I’ve been lifting weights consistently for over 15 years now, and in that time I’ve learned that no matter how dialed-in my training is, every now and then I hit a stretch where the wheels fall off. I get busy with work and family stuff, sleep goes to pot, or maybe a kid gets sick. Or sometimes nothing is going on in my life, but when I go down to my garage gym and do my warm-up sets, I can tell it’s not going to be a good workout. Weight that should feel light feels like it’s bolted to the floor. I don’t have any pop.

As a younger lifter, I’d try to push through these times of feeling beat up and tired. It never went well. I’d miss lifts, feel even more beat up and tired, and just end up feeling frustrated and down.

What I do now when I hit one of those stretches is take a deload: a week where I still show up and train but where I dial the work down so my body and mind can recover.

The deload is a useful tool to have in your lifter’s toolbox, but a lot of guys don’t use it correctly. Some never take one and end up injured or burned out. Others take them too often and never make any progress. So today we’ll cover when and how frequently to take a deload, as well as what a deload does, how to structure it, and how to get back to your regular programming afterward.

What a Deload Does

Every workout produces two things at once.

First, fitness. These are the lasting adaptations you’re after, like bigger, stronger muscles and a nervous system that’s better at getting the most out of them.

Second, fatigue. This is a temporary hit to performance from beat-up tissue and a taxed neuromuscular system.

What you can actually lift on a given day is your fitness minus your fatigue.

When you train hard for weeks on end, fatigue builds up faster than it dissipates. Eventually the fatigue starts masking your fitness. You’ve gotten stronger over those weeks, but you can’t tell, because you’re lifting with a bunch of accumulated fatigue.

A deload gives your body and mind time to drain off some of that built-up fatigue so your fitness can shine through once again.

You’ve probably experienced the benefits of a deload without intentionally taking a deload. Maybe you trained consistently for months and reached a point where you felt like you weren’t making any progress adding weight to the bar. But then your family took a week-long vacation where you couldn’t train. All you did was eat, play, and relax with your kids. When you came home and got back to training, it felt like the barbell was just flying off the ground.

Your vacation gave your body time to get rid of some of its built-up fatigue, allowing you to express the accumulated fitness that was already there from your training.

When to Take a Deload

There’s a lot of competing philosophies out there about deloading:

Never deload. Some people think that with proper programming, you never need to take a deload. That’s probably true in theory, and maybe some guys are able to do that, but in my experience, deloads usually become necessary during the course of training, no matter how well the program is structured.

Schedule deloads. Some programs build deloads right into the training schedule. They often prescribe a light week every 4 to 8 weeks whether you feel like you need it or not. If you like structure like that, this is a fine way to do deloads.

Deload when you feel like you need it. The way I approach deloads is to take them when I feel like I need them. When I feel the need arise, I just tell my longtime coach, Matt Reynolds of Barbell Logic, to schedule a deload week for me.

This isn’t something I do willy-nilly, based on my mood in a given week. Instead, I look for these specific signs:

My performance drops, and stays low. One bad workout doesn’t mean you need a deload. You’ll have off days for random reasons. Maybe you didn’t sleep well the night before, or maybe you had a stressful day of work. Sometimes you can feel flat for no particular reason; maybe it’s something in the atmosphere or the stars. If you have a single bad workout, shrug it off and try again next time.

But if you have a few bad workouts in a row where you have to drop the weight to get your reps, or you’re missing reps on multiple sets, it probably means it’s time for a deload. You’ve got too much built-up fatigue.

Everything aches. If I’m just feeling persistently beat up and achy in my joints and tendons, despite adequate recovery time between sessions, I take that as a sign that I could use a deload.

I dread training. Training is the part of my day that I most look forward to. So when I have a week of training where before every workout I think, “Ugh, I don’t want to train,” I pay attention. Loss of motivation has been a reliable sign that I’ve got too much fatigue built up and need a deload.

Life is kicking my butt. If I’m not feeling well or I just have a lot going on with work and family, I’ll sometimes take a deload. All of that stuff that happens outside of the gym contributes to your overall fatigue level, so trying to add intense workouts on top of that is just going to exacerbate your overall fatigue. Taking a deload when life is kicking my butt allows me to keep up the habit of training without taxing myself even more.

How to Take a Deload

Okay, you’ve decided a deload is in order. So how do you do it? Like a lot of things with fitness, there’s more than one avenue to take, and the one you choose depends a lot on your goals.

If you’re training for strength: back the weight off a little and cut the volume a lot. The standard prescription Reynolds uses with me on a deload is to reduce the weight on the bar by about 10% and cut the number of work sets roughly in half. So I’m keeping the intensity (weight) relatively high, but backing off on volume (number of sets).

So instead of doing 5 sets of 5 on bench at 265 lbs, I might do 1 set of 5 at 240 lbs and then just one more set for as many reps as possible.

You’re not dramatically backing off the weight because you’ve still got to keep your neuromuscular system primed even during your deload.

And according to Reynolds, despite the lightening up, a properly calibrated deload will still feel heavy, which surprises a lot of people. You look at the programmed weight that’s 10% less than you were doing last time and think, “This will be easy.” Then you get under the bar, and it feels just as heavy or even heavier than the weight you were lifting before your deload. Reynolds tells me he actually likes hearing a client say, “How is this still so heavy?” during a deload. You’ve built up fatigue, and it doesn’t instantly vanish the moment you reduce the weight. Don’t get discouraged mid-week of a deload and conclude it isn’t working. It is.

Also, a heads up: your deloads will get harder as you get stronger. Your reward for pulling bigger deadlifts is that even your light weeks involve weights that would’ve been max-effort lifts a few years back. I’ve called Reynolds to grumble about “deload” deadlift sets programmed in the mid-400s. Even though 450 pounds is lighter than my usual 500 I might do for a set of five, 450 pounds still feels really dang heavy.

If you’re training for size: cut the volume and back off the effort. Bodybuilding-style training generates a ton of localized muscle damage, and staying acclimated to maximal weights matters less. So cut your sets by a third to a half — if you normally do 4 sets per exercise, do 2 — and stop each set well shy of failure, leaving 3 or 4 reps in the tank instead of 1 or 2.

You usually don’t need to reduce the weight.

Or take the whole week off. Another way to deload is to just take a break from training completely for a week. I do that every now and then. I used to try to keep training while on vacation, but now I don’t and just use it as a chance to deload. If I have a particularly busy week of life, I’ll skip my usual lifting sessions and just try to get in a 30-minute walk.

If you’re worried that a week away from the iron will erase your gains, you can relax. Research on trained lifters shows you don’t lose meaningful muscle or strength even after two to three weeks of complete rest. One week of not training will hardly have any effect on you.

Whichever way you go, one week is the standard deload dose.

Getting Back to Your Regular Programming

When you come off a deload, the temptation is to storm back into the gym and test your newly un-buried strength on day one. Don’t. You’ll dig the fatigue hole right back out. Your first week back, run weights you were handling two or three weeks before the deload, then ramp up from there. Within a couple of weeks you should be at or near your best numbers again — and often past them.

One thing to prepare yourself for: your first workout back from a deload may feel a little stale. You might feel like you got no pop. After a week without heavy weight in your hands, the bar can feel a little foreign, and guys sometimes finish their first session thinking the deload was a bust. Give it one more workout. Reynolds says he can’t tell whether a deload worked until a client’s second session back, and my experience matches his. First workout, you feel flat. Second workout, the bar starts moving fast again.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Steve Kamb.

We all know “That Guy,” and we all have at least one in our group of friends.

He’s the one scalawag who is generally pleasant to hang out with except for one glaringly painful characteristic. Although there are different species of That Guy, some far more deplorable than others, they all have one thing in common: they often piss their friends off without knowing it.

Today, you’ll learn about the various forms of That Guy, how to react should you find one in your midst, and how to evolve in case you are That Guy.

The Poor Sport (Crybabial Sporticus)

Characteristics: The Poor Sport is dreadful to play against in any sporting event or competition. He complains incessantly about bad foul calls in pickup basketball, a weekend golf match among friends causes a temporary loss of arithmetic skills, and he will never accept blame for a loss, no matter the occasion. The cards are unlucky in a bad poker loss, the controller is faulty in a video game defeat, and the racquet is the reason for a poor tennis performance. In his own mind, he can do no wrong.

How to deal with That Guy: To start, don’t let him get away with cheating. If you know he counted incorrectly in golf, kindly remind him about the six shots it took him to get out of the bunker. If you defeat him in any competition, brace yourself for a torrent of expletives and excuses, but don’t fan the flames. Although you might want to defend your stellar performance or yell at him for being a crybaby, everybody around you already knows the truth: your friend is a sore loser.

How to evolve if you are That Guy: Go ask a few people about their worst “bad beat” in poker. Exhausted of the complaining yet? This is what you sound like to your friends ALL THE TIME. First of all, stop cheating in golf — your life won’t change if you post a 79 or a 119, and your friends ARE keeping track of your score whether they admit it or not. Show a little sportsmanship and integrity. If you lose to your friends at Halo, pickup basketball, tennis, scrabble, bocce, cards, whatever — take it like a man, and accept defeat. Everybody loses at some point, and nobody wants to hear excuses. Get over it.

The Mooch (Dudicus Moochalum)

Characteristics: The Mooch never has any money, brings any food, or provides any shelter; he instead leeches off of those around him. Think Cosmo Kramer in real life. The cause is most likely an allergic reaction to ambition. The last beer in the case, the final ice cream bar in the freezer, and any leftovers in the fridge tend to disappear whenever he’s around. A Mooch’s wallet gets “accidentally” left at home quite frequently, and he is always a pain to track down for repayment of money borrowed.

How to deal with That Guy: The Mooch usually understands his unfortunate situation, but he’s often too lazy to do anything about it. If you’re feeling magnanimous, help him find a job; just be careful who you recommend him to because it’s your reputation that’s at stake. Now, until he finds employment, do what you can to keep him in line: keep track of how much money you’ve loaned him and consider charging 10% interest each week until the debt is repaid. Don’t be afraid to call him out when he eats the last Oreo either, because that’s just not cool.

How to evolve if you are That Guy: Stop being lazy and get a job (and if you have a good job, quit mooching; the only thing worse than a poor mooch is a well-off cheapskate). Secondly, NEVER take the last one of something that isn’t yours unless you plan on replacing it. Try chipping in every once and awhile, too — show up unexpectedly with a case of beer or volunteer to buy the first round of drinks. I don’t care if you have to rob somebody first, always repay your financial debts to friends within 24 hours, no exceptions. Now, if you already have a job, and you’re still poor, find another way to contribute: are you a good cook? Do you have connections at a restaurant or movie theater? Do what you can to make up for your lack of funding — your friends will appreciate it.

Mr. Unreliable (Amigus Bail’Outicum)

I told the flake to pick me up at 7. Damnit!

Characteristics: It’s never known if Mr. Unreliable is actually going to show up, no matter how many promises have been made. He often signs up for an engagement before backing out at the last minute. “On time” to him usually means at least an hour late. Getting Mr. Unreliable to commit to something that requires an upfront financial deposit is like pulling teeth. Rather than saying no to an obligation, he’ll give a noncommittal answer that allows him to bail out at the last minute with a lame excuse via text message, thus avoiding confrontation.

How to deal with That Guy: Always expect Mr. Unreliable to not show up, and then be pleasantly surprised if he does! If you’re planning a trip with him, make sure to get some sort of financial commitment before putting up your own money — when he tries to back out this time, allow him to only do so if he can find a replacement. At that point, it’s no longer your responsibility. Not surprisingly, you should rely upon Mr. Unreliable as little as possible.

How to evolve if you are That Guy: Your friends don’t think you’ll show up to anything anymore, and eventually they’ll just stop calling. Change that perception by actually showing up to stuff consistently! What a novel idea, I know. Now, if you get invited to an event you don’t want to attend, be up front with your friends and tell them not to expect you. Lastly, start showing up on time. Arriving late consistently tells your friends that your time is more valuable than theirs. Show up at the right place at the right time.

The One-Upper (Betterum Than’Youicus)

Characteristics: Reeking of superiority and elitism, the One-Upper is a constant name-dropper of famous people and locations. During story time, the One-Upper must always ensure that he appears the strongest, best, had the toughest life growing up, drank the most beers, and/or met the coolest people. This is mostly due to a strong sense of insecurity, causing a need for constant affirmation and attention.

How to deal with That Guy: As tempting as it is to get into a pissing match with the One-Upper, the best course of action is to give him his small moment of glory, because he clearly needs it. As explained in Ben Franklin’s Virtuous Life Series, “People may talk about that guy’s exciting story the next day, but they’ll remember how much of a gentleman you are years later.” Be thankful you don’t base your self-worth on how much attention you can get. Go about your business, do great work, and the results will speak for themselves.

How to evolve if you’re That Guy: Nobody really cares how many famous people you know, how much you can bench, or how much better you are at something than everybody else. Start by letting other people have the spotlight every once and a while; continually one-upping your friends is a surefire way to piss everybody off. Instead, pick your battles and share stories when appropriate — not to brag, not to show off, but just to share a great story.

The Fibber (Fullofum Crapolakis)

Characteristics: The Fibber can stretch the truth like a penny-pincher can stretch a dollar. Known to tell dull stories that suddenly become way more exciting (and ultimately completely unbelievable), The Fibber is also known for creating inane excuses when trying to weasel out of any scenario. The Fibber is closely related to Mr. Unreliable and the Poor Sport for similar “lack of truth” qualities.

How to deal with That Guy: Take everything The Fibber says with a grain of salt and don’t bother wasting your time trying to trap him in a lie — he’ll simply get defensive and start weaving another web of lies. Just be thankful that you’re not a liar and take solace in the fact that people can rely on your word. Now, if the lies start to become disruptive to the group, pull the person aside and have a serious conversation about the lies in private rather than calling him out in public.

How to evolve if you’re That Guy: You know you’re lying, your friends know you’re lying, and that hole you’re digging for yourself is only getting deeper. Instead of creating new tall tales and more complex lies to cover for the old ones, just freaking tell the truth and wait until you actually have a good story to tell! Your conscience will thank you and so will your buddies.

Other Lesser Known Species of That Guy

Other than the five prominent species of That Guy listed above, there are actually quite a few others who might be lesser known but are no less abysmal:

The Flip Flopper (Fencium Sitterus). Having no opinion of his own, the Flip Flopper will alter his beliefs depending on who he’s talking to and who he’s trying to impress. He is generally classified as an invertebrate for lacking a backbone.

The Loud Mouth (Pieholus Gigantum). This chump cannot keep his mouth shut, whether it’s keeping a secret, talking during a movie, or putting down another friend when he’s not around. The Loud Mouth generally should not be trusted with any important information unless it needs to be shouted from the rooftops.

The “Takes It Too Far” Guy (Over The’Lineicus). This poor soul lives life to the extreme a little too often. He’s generally the one that always gets WAY too drunk at parties, takes jokes too far after they’ve become unfunny, and gets offended over things that nobody else would ever take personally. Tact is pretty much non-existent.

“The Garbage Man” (In’lovum with Jesses’girlikus). The Garbage Man has no problem attempting to date his friend’s ex-girlfriend, because he lacks the skills to move outside of the social circle and meet new people. The most despicable variation of this species will attempt to date his friend’s current girlfriend, which generally results in an ass-kicking.

Steve Kamb is the founder of Nerd Fitness and the author of How to Try Again. You can find him on Substack. 

Be sure to listen to our podcast with Steve about his latest book: 

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With our archives now 4,000+ articles deep, we’ve decided to republish a classic piece each Sunday to help our newer readers discover some of the best, evergreen gems from the past. This article was originally published in August 2010. 

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

The Friends of Eddie Coyle. This week I watched this 1973 crime film during my Zone 2 cardio, and man, it’s awesome. Robert Mitchum, in one of the best performances of his career, plays Eddie Coyle, an aging, small-time Boston gunrunner who’s facing prison time and has to decide whether to snitch on his associates to stay out. It’s based on the novel by George V. Higgins, who worked as a prosecutor in Boston and filled the book with dialogue that sounds like how actual criminals talk. Everything about the movie is well done: the story, the acting, the gritty and washed-out 1970s cinematography. Also, Dave Grusin’s funky soundtrack is top-notch. One of the most ’70s movies I’ve seen. 

Pentel Sharp Premium Mechanical Pencils. I like a good pencil. While Blackwings are my mainstay, I also appreciate a well-made mechanical pencil, and these fit the bill. They’re a dressed-up version of the classic Pentel Sharp drafting pencil that’s been around since 1970. They feel nice in your hand and lay down some smooth graphite. I’ve been using them lately to make notes in books as I read them; the fine 0.5mm lead works well for cramming comments into the margins. A pack of four runs about sixteen bucks.

Don’t bunt. Friend of AoM Michael Easter writes one of my favorite Substack newsletters, Two Percent. In this installment, he shares some advice from the legendary adman David Ogilvy: when you’ve got a job to do, don’t bunt. Swing big and “compete with immortals.” Easter then digs into the psychology of why we tend to bunt; we overestimate how much other people notice and judge us, and our brains treat the possibility of social rejection like a survival threat. A good kick in the pants if you’ve been hedging on something.

David Ogilvy was a fount of good advice, by the way; we’ve got a great write-up of all his rules for creative success here.

Rebel Yell by S.C. Gwynne. Back in 2019, I had S.C. Gwynne on the podcast to talk about his book Empire of the Summer Moon. It’s one of my favorite narrative history books, so I’ve been wanting to read more of Gwynne’s work. I finally got around to reading his big mamajama of a biography of Confederate General Stonewall Jackson called Rebel Yell. It’s an incredible story. Before the Civil War, Jackson was a socially awkward, intensely religious professor at the Virginia Military Institute whose students mocked him behind his back. When the Civil War started, he transformed into one of the most audacious and effective generals in history. He became a celebrity not only in the South, but also in the North. People around the world were comparing him to Napoleon. Gwynne does a great job of not only describing the fascinating character of Jackson, but also the ferocity and savageness of Civil War battles. If you liked Empire of the Summer Moon, you’ll like this one, too.

On our Dying Breed newsletter, we published How My Favorite Personality Test Changed How I See Myself and Others and Sunday Firesides: Keep Looking Over Your Shoulder.

Quote of the Week

People smile at the ‘enthusiasm of youth’ — that enthusiasm which they themselves secretly look back at with a sigh, perhaps unconscious that it is partly their own fault that they ever lost it. — Charles Kingsley

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

Things are hard out there in the money game. It seems like every month the cost of stuff goes up, making it harder to get ahead, let alone keep your head above financial water. It can make a fella feel hopeless.

One way to counter a sense of helplessness and hopelessness is to score a quick win. It gives you a sense of agency and momentum.

Socking away an extra $1,000 in the next 30 days is a way to get this win and a goal that’s within reach for most people.

What can you do with an extra $1,000?

Well, you could start by setting up an emergency fund. We’ve talked about emergency funds before. This is money that you keep aside in a savings account and only touch when stuff hits the fan in your life, like a water heater going kaput or a car tire that needs replacing. Instead of having to resort to a credit card to pay for these things (where interest makes the cost go up even more), you use the cash in your emergency fund.

Surveys consistently find that a majority of Americans couldn’t cover a $1,000 emergency with cash on hand. If you’re in that camp, building a $1,000 emergency fund is a goal you can accomplish in a month. It will give you some peace of mind and get the ball rolling for other financial goals.

Even if you’ve already got your emergency fund squared away, an extra $1,000 can be put to productive use. You can use it to save for a down payment on a home or make an extra payment on your mortgage or pay down car and student loans or even just invest it in your retirement account — where, through the power of compound interest, it will start snowballing into serious money.

To help you knock off the achievable win of socking away an extra $1,000, we provide seven ideas to get it done. You don’t have to do all seven. Pick a few that fit your circumstances and put your shoulder to the wheel for a month until you get that one thousand extra smackeroos.

1. Audit your subscriptions. We did a deep dive on this a few months ago. Auditing your subscriptions and canceling the ones you no longer use or that don’t provide value to you is an easy way to save some scratch. A few hours this weekend going through your subscriptions can save you $100-$200 a month. You’re already 10 to 20 percent of the way to the $1k goal!

2. Call the retention department. Internet and cell providers spend a few hundred bucks to acquire each new customer, so they’d rather cut you a deal than lose you to a competitor. Before you call, look up what other providers in your area are charging. Then call your provider and ask to be transferred to the retention department; frontline customer service reps typically don’t have the authority to offer the good discounts. Tell them you’ve been a loyal customer, that your bill has crept up, and that Competitor X is offering a better deal. Then just be quiet and let them work. Haggling like this feels a little awkward, but a 30-minute call can knock $50 or more off your monthly bills.

3. Shop your insurance. Most folks set up their auto and homeowners policies once and never think about them again. Insurance companies know this and count on it. Rates on loyal customers tend to creep up year after year while the good deals go to new customers. Spend an evening getting quotes from three or four carriers, or let an independent agent do the shopping for you. Re-shopping both policies can save you $100 or more per month, and bundling them with a single carrier usually saves even more. I did this a few years ago and saved $500 a month in just a few hours (this isn’t typical — but it’s possible!).

4. Bring your lunch to work. A $10 lunch out doesn’t feel like a big deal in the moment, but over multiple workdays, it really adds up. Brown-bagging it is a classic money-saving tactic for a reason. Eat leftovers from last night’s dinner, or check out how I meal prep macro-friendly, nutrient-rich lunches for just $3 each. Depending on how much you’re currently eating out and how much you’re spending on those meals, bringing your lunch from home can save you as much as $250 a month.

5. Put your spending in a 30-day deep freeze. For one month, go spartan on the rest of your discretionary spending: no restaurant dinners, no drive-thru coffee, and no takeout. Cutting out a couple restaurant nights a week plus the daily coffee run keeps another $200-$300 in your pocket. Instead of buying new books, use the library. Instead of going to the movies, stay in and watch a movie at home. If you’ve had your eye on buying a new piece of gym equipment or a new shirt, put it off for a month and use that money for your $1,000 goal.

6. Put your skills to work on nights and weekends. So far we’ve been talking about how to make cuts to get to that $1,000 goal. But you can get there faster if you start bringing in some extra cash. One way to do that is to moonlight. You’ve probably got some skills and knowledge that you can hire out during your off hours. Freelance in your professional field, officiate youth sports games, teach guitar lessons, tutor a foreign language. Those are just a few ideas off the top of my head; I’m sure you’ve got more.

7. Sell your stuff. Another way to make some extra scratch for your $1,000 goal is to offload your unwanted possessions. Most of us have hundreds of dollars of dormant cash sitting in our garages and closets in the form of old smartphones, books, tools, sporting gear, and clothes we never wear. Have a garage sale without a garage. Spend a weekend photographing things you no longer need and listing them on Facebook Marketplace, Nextdoor, or Poshmark. You can easily net $200-$500. You get a cleaner home to boot.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

With the release of Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of the Odyssey, it seems like everyone’s been talking about a 3,000-year-old epic again. But my guest thinks this ancient tale offers a framework for understanding our modern lives that you probably haven’t heard before.

Patrick Deneen is a professor of political science and the author of American Odyssey. Today on the show, Patrick argues that Odysseus embodies a tension that has defined the human experience, and especially the American experience: we’re both home-seeking and exploring, rooted and restless. We long to settle down somewhere, yet we’re equally driven to push beyond the horizon in search of something new. Patrick shares how Alexis de Tocqueville made this observation about our country two centuries ago, how Odysseus navigates the temptation to become both more than human and less than human, and the surprising act Patrick thinks is the most heroic thing Odysseus does. We end our conversation with the idea that having a home can give us the confidence to explore, or as David Brooks put it, “All of life is a series of daring explorations from a secure base.”

Resources Related to the Podcast

• AoM Article: 3 Lessons From Homer’s Odyssey
• AoM Podcast #337: What Homer’s Odyssey Can Teach Us Today
• Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville
• “Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Connect With Patrick Deneen

• Patrick’s faculty page
• Patrick’s website
• American Odyssey’s page on Creed and Culture’s website

Listen to the Podcast! (And don’t forget to leave us a review!)

Listen to the episode on a separate page.

Download this episode.

Subscribe to the podcast in the media player of your choice.

Transcript Coming Soon

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

Over on Dying Breed, we’ve been doing a book club where we’re reading Lonesome Dove.

If you haven’t read Lonesome Dove, the basic plot is that two former Texas Rangers — Woodrow Call and Augustus McCrae — lead a cattle drive from the Rio Grande all the way up to Montana. Actually, it’s Call who does the leading. Gus mostly drinks whisky and hangs out with Lorie, a young prostitute with a heart of gold.

Call got the idea for the cattle drive after another former Ranger partner rode into their ranch and mentioned that the grass in Montana was great for cattle, and a guy could get rich settling up there. Call, bored with life on the border, decided on a lark to round up a crew and drive cattle thousands of miles north.

But when the cattle drive gets going, you get the impression that Call really doesn’t want to go, or at least he doesn’t know why he’s taking on such a big venture. His compatriots are equally indifferent. Gus doesn’t want to go, but he accompanies his old friend because he has nothing better to do. Newt, the orphan boy who lives with Gus and Call, goes because he’s a kid and nobody asks him what he wants. The cowboys who join sign on because it’s a job.

Individually, there doesn’t seem to be much buy-in, but everyone goes along with the trip anyway.

You’ve probably experienced something like this. Your family decides to take a big vacation because everybody assumes it’s what everybody else wants, and it later turns out nobody really wanted to go. Your church rolls out some new program, and in the meeting, everyone acts like they’re on board, but when you talk to people one-on-one afterward in the parking lot, every single one of them thinks it’s a bad idea. Somebody at work greenlights a project that drags on for months, and it eventually comes out that none of the people working on it thought it made sense in the first place.

This mismatch between individual preference and group action happens enough that there’s a name for it. It’s called the “Abilene paradox,” and today I want to talk about what it is, why it happens, and how to keep yourself from being caught up in its force.

Why Don’t We Go to Abilene?

The idea of the Abilene paradox comes from a management professor named Jerry Harvey, who introduced it in a 1974 article. He named it after a trip his own family took one summer. Here’s the story:

Harvey was visiting his in-laws in Coleman, Texas. It was a Sunday afternoon in July, 104 degrees, and he was sitting on the back porch playing dominoes in front of a fan and drinking lemonade. It was a fine way to spend the day. Then his father-in-law said, “Let’s drive to Abilene and eat at the cafeteria.” Abilene was 53 miles away. The car was a 1958 Buick with no air conditioning. Harvey didn’t want to go at all, but before he could open his mouth, his wife said it sounded great. So Harvey figured he was the only one who didn’t want to go, and he didn’t want to be the party-pooper, so he said it sounded fine to him, too. His mother-in-law said she was in as well.

So they drove 53 miles there in the heat and dust, ate an overpriced mediocre meal, and drove 53 miles back in the heat and dust. By the time they got home, they were hot, worn out, and covered in grit. They sat around the porch a while, not saying much. Then Harvey’s mother-in-law said she’d rather have stayed home and only went because everybody else seemed to want to. Harvey admitted he hadn’t wanted to go, and his wife said she’d only agreed to keep everyone happy. And then the father-in-law — the man who suggested the trip in the first place — said he actually hadn’t wanted to go, either. He’d only brought it up because he thought everyone looked bored and figured he should come up with something for them to do.

Nobody wanted to make the trip. Not even the guy who suggested it.

Yet, though every person in the family thought the trip was a bad idea, they all went along with it because each assumed he or she was the only one who felt that way.

Thanks to their collective unwillingness to speak up, they took a dumb trip.

This is the Abilene paradox: a group collectively decides on a course of action that goes against the true preferences of each individual member.

Why the Abilene Paradox Happens

When we think about what goes wrong in groups, we usually think about conflict — people butting heads and nobody able to agree. Harvey thought a bigger problem was agreement. A group can talk itself into doing something not one person in it actually wants to do, and nobody says a word against it.

There are a few reasons this happens.

For one, we want to belong, and we don’t want to be the one who comes off as difficult or negative or not a team player. We don’t want to make waves. So when an idea comes up we don’t like, we sit on our opinion and tell ourselves, “Everybody else seems on board, so I guess I’ll go along so I’m not the disagreeable wet blanket.”

We’re also not very good at reading the other people in the room. When an idea comes up that you think is dumb and you see nobody’s objecting, you figure everybody’s for it, so you continue to keep your mouth shut. But a lot of the time, the other folks are keeping quiet for the same reason we are. They’ve got the same doubts, but they don’t want to speak up because they don’t see anyone else objecting. They assume everyone agrees, so they stay quiet lest they rock the boat.

That’s how you end up on a dumb trip to Abilene or a cattle drive to Montana or executing a work project that was doomed to failure.

And once you start on a dumb trip to Abilene, the action of actually going on the trip looks like proof everyone wanted it, which just reinforces the idea that this must be a good idea because if it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be doing it. Sunk cost fallacy starts to kick in. Everyone starts thinking, “Well, we’ve gone this far, it’d be a waste if we turned back. Might as well keep going to Abilene.”

How to Avoid Trips to Abilene

So, how do you keep a group — whether a team at work or your own family — from going on those dumb figurative trips to Abilene?

First, if you’re the leader in a group, don’t say what you want first. The second you say, “I’m thinking we do the lake again this year,” you’ve tipped the scale, and everybody else is reacting to your idea instead of coming up with their own. Leaders tend to kickstart Abilene trips because people in groups are often afraid to disagree with the leader. Instead, ask everyone else what they think before you throw your ideas out there.

Second, explicitly make disagreement part of the group decision-making process. Before you commit to anything, go around the room and have everybody name one reason it might not work and why the group shouldn’t take this action.

If you’re not the leader in a group and don’t have control over shaping the group discussion, if you think something is a bad idea, say so in the meeting. There’s a good chance you’re not the only one who feels that way, and once you say it out loud, you make it possible for everybody else to raise objections. It’s possible to do this tactfully and gracefully. You don’t have to say, “This is a really dumb idea.” Rather you can say something like, “I’m wondering if _____ could be an issue. What am I missing that might help resolve that concern?” Maybe there’s a legitimate counter to your doubt, but more importantly, the question opens the door for other people to raise their concerns as well.

Speak Up Before the Bus Pulls Out

You’re going to end up on plenty of trips to Abilene in your life. You’ll go along with stuff you don’t want to do, because you assume everybody else is on board. And because you don’t want to be the guy who makes things awkward, you keep your mouth shut. But a lot of the time, nobody else is sold either. The whole group is just sitting there waiting for somebody to say, “Hey, this might not be a good idea.”

So be that somebody. Next time your group starts rolling toward something that doesn’t sit right with you, say so. You’ll be surprised how often the rest of the room was hoping somebody would, so they could avoid that trip to Abilene.

And no offense in all this to our readers in Abilene, of course. I’ve never been there, but I’m sure it’s a great town, and its dining options have improved appreciably.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

“Compound interest is the Eighth Wonder of the World. He who understands it, earns it; he who doesn’t, pays it.”

Albert Einstein supposedly said that. Lots of quotes get attributed to him that he didn’t actually say, and this may be one of them; I personally don’t see the guy who imagined riding a light beam to figure out the Theory of Relativity waxing poetic about compound interest.

But even if Einstein really didn’t say compound interest was the Eighth Wonder of the World, it’s still a good point. Compound interest is pretty dang awesome. It’s a powerful concept — one that can massively strengthen, or weaken, your finances. It can either work against you (when it comes to debt) or for you (when it comes to savings and investments). The man who understands it will have a tool to increase his net worth; the man who doesn’t will go through life stuck in a paycheck mentality.

Unfortunately, not every young adult has someone sit them down and explain compound interest to them. Which is a shame, because its power is greatly amplified the earlier you put it to work. If you want to set a young man up for financial security and wealth, then pass this accessible and inspiring primer on to them. If you’re older and never really got an education in compound interest, or you could use a refresher on it, this guide is for you, too. Even if you’re getting a late start with leveraging compound interest, the second best time to plant a tree is now, as they say.

What Is Compound Interest?

To understand compound interest, it’s useful to understand simple interest first.

Simple interest is calculated on the principal or the original amount of a deposit or loan. It’s really, well, simple to figure out.

Let’s say you take out a loan for $10,000 at a simple interest rate of 5%. The duration of the loan is four years.

To calculate the interest that’ll accumulate on the loan, you’d use the following formula:

Principal x interest rate x term of the loan

Plugging in our numbers, it would be:

$10,000 x .05 x 4 = $2,000

So that $10,000 loan will cost you $2,000 in simple interest.

Car loans and student loans use simple interest. A loan you take from a family member or friend will likely use simple interest (if they charge you interest at all).

Now that you understand simple interest, we can move to compound interest.

Compound interest is calculated on the principal amount and — this is key — also on the accumulated interest of previous periods. It’s interest on interest.

Here’s what the compound interest formula looks like:

P(1 + r/n)^(nt) − P

[P = Principal; r = annual interest rate in percentage terms; n = number of compounding periods for a year; t = number of years money is invested or borrowed]

Yeah, it looks confusing, but let’s plug in our numbers from the simple interest example to see what we’d pay if the interest was compounded.

So we got a $10,000 loan that compounds annually at 5%. The duration of the loan is 4 years. What would we pay in interest? Let’s look at the progression of the math:

$10,000 (1 + .05/1)^(1×4) − $10,000 →

$10,000 (1.05)^4 − $10,000 →

$10,000 (1.21550625) − $10,000 →

$12,155.0625 – $10,000 = $2,155.06

So on a four-year loan that’s compounded annually, we’d pay $2,155.06 in compound interest. That’s $155.06 more than a loan issued on simple interest. Calculating interest on the interest already accrued on a principal can really add up. And add up fast as we’ll see in an example below.

If you’d rather not do the math yourself, there are plenty of compound interest calculators online. 

Credit cards charge compound interest, and unlike our example above, they typically compound it daily rather than annually. The high interest rates of credit cards coupled with their daily compounding is why pretty much every single personal finance guru out there says “Don’t carry a balance on your credit cards!” You end up paying a lot for that extended credit. For example, a credit card balance of $10,000 carried at an interest rate of 20% (compounded daily) would result in total compound interest of $2,213.36 over one year, or about $184 per month. 

Compound interest can work in your favor, though. Big time. When you sock your money into a savings account, banks typically pay compound interest daily on the money you keep with them. The national average savings interest rate is 0.61%, and some top high-yield accounts are at roughly 4%. Keep $10,000 in an account paying 4% interest compounded daily, and you’ll earn $408.08 over a year without lifting a finger. It adds up.

If you invest in an index fund, you can leverage the power of compound interest by reinvesting your earnings into buying more of the index fund which will allow you to earn even more, which you then reinvest, and so on and so forth.

Compounding Periods Have a Big Effect on Earnings

Looking at the compound interest formula, you’ll likely notice that the frequency of compounding periods can have a big effect on your earnings or how much you have to pay in interest. The more compounding periods, the more interest that is accrued. You’ll earn more in interest from a bank that compounds daily compared to a bank that only compounds monthly; you’ll pay more in interest on a loan that compounds monthly compared to one that compounds annually.

So when looking at interest rates for a savings account or loan, make sure to pay attention to how often interest is compounded.

Time Is Your Friend

The real magic of compounding reveals itself over long periods of time. The longer you let your money sit in an account and compound itself, the more money you make.

This example from personal finance expert Beth Kobliner illustrates the point:

If you were to save $1,000 a year from age 25 to 34 in a retirement account earning 8% a year, and never invest a penny more, your $10,000 investment would grow to $157,435 by age 65. But if you don’t start saving until you’re 35 years old and then invest $1,000 a year for the next 30 years (that’s a total investment of $30,000), you’ll have only $122,346 by age 65. The bottom line: Start early, so your money has enough time to pile up.

The way that investments snowball over time means that how you decide to make big purchases can have a far bigger effect on your finances than you even realize. For example, let’s say you choose to buy a $600,000 house instead of a million dollar house, and you only need to put down a $100,000 down payment instead of a $200,000 down payment. Then you invest that $100k saved and earn an average 10% annual return on it. In 30 years, that $100k will turn into almost $2 million dollars. In 35 years, it could net you around $3 million. So in choosing the more affordable house, it’s like you just made yourself $3 million dollars. (And that’s not even counting the money you saved on your monthly mortgage payments and the interest you paid on that loan.)

But the snowball effect has a profound impact when it comes to investing small savings, too. If you can find a way to save $10 a day, by, say, brown bagging your lunch instead of eating out, and you invest that money in the market, in 30 years, it’ll turn into $700k. In 40 years, you’ll have almost $2 million. Notice both how small savings can mushroom, and the difference a decade makes!

Bottom line: the earlier you invest, the better. Get your kids started now! Even if you’re older, investing today as opposed to even five years from now will make a significant difference. 

Use the Power of Compound Interest to Your Advantage

Understanding compound interest can really help you move ahead with your finances. Knowing that credit card companies compound the interest on your balance on a daily basis should act as an incentive to pay off credit card debt as quickly as possible. Knowing that you can make money from your money should act as an incentive to sock away as much dough as you can and to not touch it for as long as you can.

The key is to get started today. If you’ve got credit card debt, start paying it off now so compound interest doesn’t devour you. If you don’t have a savings or retirement account, start one today so you can leverage the power of this Eighth Wonder of the World.

Be sure to listen to my podcast with David Bach about how compound interest can make you a millionaire: 

With our archives now 4,000+ articles deep, we’ve decided to republish a classic piece each Sunday to help our newer readers discover some of the best, evergreen gems from the past. This article was originally published in July 2018.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

If you haven’t already, follow the show on your favorite podcast app (Apple, Spotify, Overcast). We put out an episode a week and they’re free! Also, check out our archives. There are over 1,100 episodes. We’ve got a lot of great guests lined up for the second half of the year, so stay tuned!

Strong, Conditioned, and Ready for Anything — How to Become a Hybrid Athlete

For years, conventional wisdom has said you have to choose between getting stronger and building endurance. Alex Viada argues that you can successfully train for both — and become a more capable, well-rounded athlete in the process. He explains how to balance lifting with running or cycling, manage fatigue, and make steady progress without sacrificing one goal for the other. Whether you want to deadlift more, run farther, or simply be ready for whatever life throws your way, this episode offers a practical blueprint for building all-around fitness.

Ecclesiastes on Enjoying Our Weirdly Unsatisfying Lives

Few ancient texts feel as surprisingly modern as the Bible’s book of Ecclesiastes. Bobby Jamieson explores its philosophical and timeless reflections on work, ambition, pleasure, and mortality, and explains why its message resonates so deeply today. He unpacks why achievement alone never satisfies and how Ecclesiastes points toward a more resilient and enduring kind of happiness. Whether you read it as scripture or simply as great wisdom literature, this conversation offers profound insights into living well in an uncertain world.

The Mental Skills for Becoming an Everyday Genius

We often think of genius as something you’re born with, but Nelson Dellis argues that many of its hallmark abilities can be deliberately developed. He shares practical techniques for improving your memory, learning more effectively, solving problems, and sharpening your mental agility. Along the way, he makes the case that cultivating your mind is more important than ever in an age when information is always at your fingertips. It’s a fascinating conversation on how to think more clearly and perform at a higher level every day.

Become an Automatic Millionaire

Building wealth doesn’t require a huge income or complicated investing strategies. David Bach explains how small, consistent financial decisions can compound into long-term wealth. He shares why automating your savings and investments is one of the most powerful moves you can make, revisits his famous “Latte Factor,” and offers practical advice on paying down debt and buying a home. It’s a straightforward roadmap for achieving financial security without constantly thinking about money.

Why Screen Time Leaves You Exhausted

Spending the day in front of screens can leave you feeling surprisingly drained, even if you’ve barely moved. Manoush Zomorodi explains the hidden physical effects of our digital lives and how they shape our energy, focus, and overall well-being. She shares simple, science-backed ways to counteract the toll of prolonged sitting, along with practical advice for protecting your eyes and ears from constant technology use. It’s an eye-opening conversation on reclaiming your vitality in an increasingly screen-filled world.

How to Try Again

Setbacks are inevitable, but they don’t have to define the course of your life. Steve Kamb shares practical strategies for recovering from failure, navigating major life changes, and building habits that actually last. He explains why accepting reality, experimenting instead of striving for perfection, and focusing on consistency can help you regain momentum. It’s an encouraging conversation for anyone who’s trying to get back on track after life’s inevitable detours.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

OAS Saguaro swim shorts. I needed a new pair of swim trunks this summer. I’ve always loved Western motifs, and reading Lonesome Dove with the Dying Breed book club has put cowboys particularly on my brain lately, so when I came across these shorts from OAS (a Swedish swimwear brand), they were hard to pass up. They feature a Western cowboy print that’s a Huckberry exclusive. The shorts are made with a quick-dry fabric and several pockets for your stuff, including a small hidden zip pocket on the side to stash your car or room key. There’s also a camp-collar shirt with the same print available that you can wear with the shorts while lounging by the pool or separately when you’re out and about. Giddy up!

The Death of the Stick Shift is Almost Here. Both Kate and I learned to drive on stick shifts, and for years during our married life we had a manual Honda Element. We sold it several years ago, and I kind of wish we hadn’t. Gus is driving age now, and it would have been nice for him to learn how to drive stick on the Element. Because as this Washington Post piece observes, this is a fast-dying skill. Less than 1% of new vehicles made for the U.S. market last year were manuals, down from about a third in 1980, and only 39% of Gen Z knows how to drive one, compared to 83% of Baby Boomers. It’s too bad. Working a clutch and shifting through the gears makes you feel connected to the road in a way an automatic never does. It makes driving more fun. And the modern world could sure use more tactile fun. For a refresher on this going-going-gone skill, check out our article on how to drive a stick shift. 

Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton. Eleven years ago, we wrote an in-depth series on the nature of status, and this book is what sent me down that rabbit hole in the first place. De Botton explores why we care so much about what other people think of us and the consequences of that caring. Modern life only exacerbates status anxiety since it’s possible to compare how we’re doing with pretty much everyone in the entire world via social media. He then makes the case for how philosophy, art, and religion can be a balm for status anxiety. De Botton’s a philosopher, but he writes for regular folks; it’s an easy, accessible read, and I still think about it a lot. 

O Brother, Where Art Thou? Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of the Odyssey just hit theaters, and while I haven’t gotten around to seeing it yet (hoping to soon), all the Homer talk got me hankering to revisit the Coen brothers’ version of the epic, which I watched in chunks during my Zone 2 cardio sessions this week. Twenty-five years later, it’s still hilarious. George Clooney’s fast-talking, pomade-obsessed Ulysses Everett McGill remains one of his best roles. And the soundtrack is still awesome. The T Bone Burnett-produced collection of old-time bluegrass and gospel got a lot of rotation in my car’s 5-disc CD player back in high school (a great soundtrack for when you’re driving stick). I’ll be queuing it up on my iPhone in the car in 2026.  

On our Dying Breed newsletter, we published Sunday Firesides: Advancing on Chaos and the Dark and Dying Breed Field Trip: Woolaroc Museum and Wildlife Preserve.

Quote of the Week

Did you ever hear of a man who had striven all his life faithfully and singly toward an object and in no measure obtained it? If a man constantly aspires, is he not elevated? Did ever a man try heroism, magnanimity, truth, sincerity, and find that there was no advantage in them? That it was a vain endeavor?

—Henry David Thoreau

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.

Even as a 38-year-old guy, I still love the feeling of embarking on road trips. They promise freedom, romance, and adventure without the increasing arduousness of flying. All you need is a full tank of gas, a map (a paper one still has value!), and a willingness to explore unexpected and out-of-the-way places. As an avid reader, I also enjoy riding shotgun on other people’s road trips. Yet while literature is filled with stories of journeys and pilgrimages of all kinds, there are surprisingly few books centered on climbing into a car and following the blacktop.

Perhaps that’s because the road trip is less about the destination than the space in between. Long hours behind the wheel create a pocket where the normal routines of life temporarily fall away. Conversation deepens, big questions have room to breathe, and long-held dreams can be laid bare. Familiar landscapes give way to unfamiliar ones, and it’s often in those places that we gain the clearest perspective on where we’ve been and where we’re headed. While something special happens in those liminal hours, it resists easy capture on the page. The five books below manage the feat. Across fiction and non-fiction, they explore the unique experience from different angles, while reminding us that sometimes the road itself is the highlight.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac

The road is life.

No novel is more synonymous with the American road trip than 1957’s On the Road. Jack Kerouac’s defining work of the Beat Generation barrels across the country with the same restless energy as its characters, following Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty as they crisscross America in search of freedom and adventure. The prose is breathless, with episodes blurring together — and the whole book possesses a frenetic momentum that can leave readers feeling both exhilarated and exhausted.

It’s easy to dismiss On the Road as a novel that’s only meaningful when you’re a 20-something on the hunt for the secret to life. I expected exactly that when I first picked it up in my thirties. In some ways, the novel confirmed those expectations — its characters are forever in motion yet never seem to arrive anywhere. 

But that’s also what makes the book endure. Read with a few more years under your belt, On the Road becomes less a celebration of perpetual movement than a meditation on it. Kerouac reminds us that we all need adventure — that life grows stagnant without occasional leaps into the unknown — but he also suggests that constant motion is a form of avoidance. The trick, as with so much in life, is finding the balance between settling down and never settling at all.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig

Sometimes it’s a little better to travel than to arrive. 

This unique book is part memoir, part philosophical treatise, and part father-son road trip. It can be bewildering and difficult at times — Pirsig frequently gets into long tangents about metaphysics, classical thought, and the elusive concept of “Quality.” I get that I’m not exactly selling it so far, but stick with me — the payoff is worth it. 

Because beneath the dense ideas lies one of the most profound books ever written about craftsmanship and meaningful work. Over the course of a long road trip, Pirsig discovers and argues that quality is something we bring to every task through attention, care, and genuine engagement — it’s much more than just a final judgment on something. Whether you’re bringing an old bike back to life or doing something much more prosaic, the quality of your work ultimately reflects the quality of your soul.

Those ideas feel even more relevant today than when Pirsig published them in 1974. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is a compelling reminder that the good life isn’t built by consuming more things, but by caring more deeply about whatever is in front of you.

For more insights on the book, listen to Brett’s podcast with Mark Richardson, who came to understand and appreciate it by not only studying it, but recreating Pirsig’s road trip.

Harry Truman’s Excellent Adventure by Matthew Algeo 

I like to take trips — any kind of trip. They are about the only recreation I have besides reading. 

Harry Truman has long been one of my favorite presidents to read about, and this delightful little book offers a side of him that most histories overlook.

In the summer of 1953, just months after leaving the White House, Truman and his wife, Bess, climbed into their Chrysler and headed east on an unpublicized road trip. Truman had always loved automobiles and cared deeply about America’s roads. For a brief moment, he hoped he might simply become an ordinary citizen again. While it didn’t quite work that way — they would end up recognized everywhere they went — the Trumans enjoyed a retirement vacation in a way that no president since has been able to do. 

Algeo tells this forgotten story with warmth and humor, including short detours into the history of America’s highways and road trips in general. It’s a charming glimpse into both Truman’s character and a version of America (and politics) that no longer exists.

Be sure to also check out Matthew’s fascinating podcast with Brett about the forgotten American sport of pedestrianism. 

Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck

I am happy to report that in the war between reality and romance, reality is not the stronger. 

When John Steinbeck set out to drive around America with his French poodle, Charley, he claimed he wanted to rediscover the country he’d spent his life writing about. The result is one of the great American travel narratives.

It’s also, almost certainly, not entirely true. If you’re expecting strict reportage, you’ll be disappointed. But that’s beside the point, frankly. 

What Steinbeck beautifully and truthfully captured is the feeling of America in the early 1960s. The nation was on the cusp of enormous change: interstate highways were reshaping travel, regional identities were beginning to blur, and the old analog ways of doing things seemed to be quietly slipping away. His observations are funny, wistful, and occasionally melancholy — just like the unique characters he meets along the way.

At its heart, Travels With Charley is about paying close enough attention to notice what’s changing around you, what’s been lost already, and how to hold on to the good parts.

For a practical tip from the book, here’s Steinbeck’s clever way of doing laundry while you drive. 

The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles

How easily we forget — we in the business of storytelling — that life was the point all along. 

A novel set in 1954, The Lincoln Highway follows 18-year-old Emmett Watson, newly released from a juvenile work farm, who intends to leave Nebraska with his younger brother and start a new life in California. Instead, two unexpected companions derail those carefully laid plans, sending the group east along the historic Lincoln Highway.

Like Towles’ other excellent novels, this one is filled with memorable characters, elegant prose, and a deep understanding of the stories people tell themselves about who they are and where they’re headed. The road itself and the boys’ character traits intertwine — every detour becomes a moral choice and every wrong turn opens new avenues.  

The open road invites us to believe we’re in complete control, that with enough planning we can chart a perfect course from Point A to Point B. The Lincoln Highway is a good reminder that the most meaningful journeys rarely unfold according to plan and that sometimes the unexpected route proves to be the one worth taking.

Keep up with all of my book reviews and reading lists by subscribing to my newsletter at readmorebooks.co.

This article was originally published on The Art of Manliness.