06/24/2026
Watched a grown man push away a second glass of wine last week because his ring told him to.
A ring.
Sixty-three years old. Built a company. Defeated by jewelry.
I am no better.
I own a machine that weighs me every morning.
Aged a full year over one Thanksgiving.
One pie.
It saw everything.
And I love it, because the number will not let me lie to myself.
Then it hit me.
I will track my sleep to the minute and stare at a recovery score like it owes me money.
And that same owner has no idea how many dials his best producer made last week.
Your producer has a recovery score too.
It is called his dial count.
You just have to be willing to look at the number that disappoints you.