Confession: I'm a routine guy.

I thrive on structure. And, in broad terms, I think of routines as a mechanism for structure. A way to ensure execution against the daily action that contributes to long-term, compounding progress.

A good routine is nothing more than a fixed set of actions that helps you get more of what matters done. Whether in your health, your career, your business, your relationships, or any other domain, it helps you focus your energy on the actions that move you forward toward the life you want.

I recently shared a ​video​ that walked through my daily routine.

At the end of it, I made an offer for anyone who watched it to send me an email with any follow-up questions or requests for advice.

To be honest, I was only expecting to get a few. But I underestimated the algorithm, and with the video getting 100K+ views, I've now received 500+ emails since it went live.

But I'm not complaining. This is why I love what I do. Extraordinary stories and questions from people across all walks of life, from all around the world.

And interestingly, the most common question was a simple one:

How do you manage to maintain your routines when life happens?

This is an important question, because there's a dark side to routines that nobody talks about. One that I've experienced time and again over the years.

When your routines become too rigid and complicated, they become a source of stress rather than strength.

The routines meant to serve you can start to own you.

I used to be fanatical about my morning routine. Every single action, down to the minute. Perfectly designed. Optimized.

It was glorious when everything went smoothly.

But some days, I'd find myself in a deep conversation at an evening event that was running long. Or chasing down an unexpected open loop. Or facing a chaotic bedtime with my toddler son. Or sitting in an airport waiting for a delayed flight.

And suddenly, I'd notice an odd sensation: I’d get routine anxiety. An anticipatory anxiety about not nailing the next morning's routine.

I'd find myself searching for an out from an engaging conversation. Leaving a closable loop wide open. Getting unnecessarily frustrated with my son. Or becoming visibly annoyed in an airport.

The routine itself wasn't the problem. My dogmatic obsession with it was.

I'm writing this piece while sitting on a plane, stuck on the tarmac, in the middle of a five hour ground delay that means my flight home is going to land at 1am (rather than 8pm).

A few years ago, this situation would have wrecked me. I'd be doing sleep math (how many hours of sleep will I get if I fall asleep the instant I get home?), mentally rehearsing how crummy I'd feel the next day, and getting annoyed at a situation I had no control over.

But now, I'm writing this, and smiling as I do, because I changed my approach.

This is where my 90-10 Rule comes in.

With any routine I create, I simply aim for the following:

• 90% disciplined compliance
• 10% open flexibility

That means 90% of the time, I'm locked in with my structure, but 10% of the time, I give myself the space to let life happen freely.

It's directional more than exact. I don't track the 90% or the 10%, I just have it as a rough compass in the back of my mind. 10% is ~3 days in a month, so I keep that as a general frame of reference.

The 90% looks like this:

• 4:30am wake up followed by 3 hours of focused writing time.
• Dedicated family time in the morning and evening with no phone. Family meals and walks.
• 1-2 hours of lifting and running (depending on training goals).
• Afternoon structured work blocks.
• Pre-bed sauna wind down ritual.

The 10% looks like this:

• Embracing serendipitous encounters, invitations, and opportunities.
• Adapting to the minor inconveniences of life by scaling back the perfect to a minimum viable level.
• Writing off a day when necessary without guilt or shame.

The 10% is what enables the 90% to be so effective.

I think of it as the Paradox of Routine:

The best routine is the one you can break.

There's real science to support this idea:

Researchers Marissa Sharif and Suzanne Shu ​conducted a study​ in which students were asked to track their daily steps for a month.

The students were assigned to one of four goal conditions:

• Hard Goal: Hit high step count 7 days per week.
• Easy Goal: Hit high step count 5 days per week.
• Emergency Reserve Weekly Goal: Hit high step count 7 days per week, but with 2 "emergency skip days" allowed per week.
• Emergency Reserve Monthly Goal: Hit high step count 7 days per week, but with 8 "emergency skip days" allowed per month.

Interestingly, those in the Emergency Reserve Goal groups achieved their goal up to 40% more days per week than the Hard or Easy Goal groups.

The difference showed up after a miss. Those in the Hard Goal group were more likely to allow a miss to derail them in the following days. In fact, they had the lowest rebound rate (hitting the target the day after a miss).

The researchers argue that the emergency reserve (their version of my 10%) allows the individual to maintain a sense of unbroken progress when a miss happens, which prevents them from feeling like a failure and getting knocked further off course.

In other words, strict, rigid adherence to a goal or routine can work against you.

So, to implement the 90-10 Rule, the next time you feel yourself in the grips of routine anxiety, ask yourself these questions:

• Am I protecting my routine at the expense of the life in front of me?
• If I miss tomorrow, how fast can I get back on track?
• What's the good enough version of tomorrow?

My plane just took off. I'll land at 1am. Get home by 2am. Probably eat something and be asleep by 3am. Tomorrow, my son will still wake me up at 7:30 to play. I'll enjoy that. Then drink some coffee, maybe do a light workout, and try to get a few simple things done.

It won't be the perfect version of my day. But it'll be good-enough.

And that's the point.

Your routine should serve your life, not own it.