For much of my adult life, I have been driven by goals. Building physical strength, developing a successful business, achieving financial independence, and continually working toward becoming better at what I do.

I don’t regret any of it. In fact, I think having goals, developing discipline, and working hard to accomplish meaningful things are incredibly important.

However, I’ve come to realize something that I think many ambitious people struggle with. At some point, you have to recognize when enough is enough. Otherwise, the pursuit of success becomes a never-ending cycle in which no accomplishment is ever quite sufficient. You achieve one goal, experience a moment of satisfaction, and immediately move on to something bigger. More strength, more money, more success, more recognition. But to what end?

Several years ago, I accomplished one of my biggest strength-training goals when I deadlifted 605 pounds. It was something I had worked toward for years. It required tremendous dedication, consistency, patience, and plenty of difficult workouts. When I finally pulled 605 pounds, I felt an enormous sense of accomplishment. But I also felt something else. Relief!

I remember thinking, “I did it! Now I never have to lift that much weight again!” Haha! I certainly wasn’t thinking about pursuing a 700-pound deadlift. Why would I? I’m not a competitive powerlifter trying to become the strongest person in my weight class. I love strength training, but I also want to remain healthy, mobile, and capable for many decades. Pursuing a 700-pound deadlift would have required considerably more effort and exposed me to additional risks for a reward that simply wasn’t important to me. I had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish, and I was genuinely satisfied.

And that satisfaction lasted. For more than a year afterward, I regularly deadlifted 500 pounds for five to seven repetitions. I even worked up to 585 pounds for a single on a few occasions. I hadn’t lost my strength or my enthusiasm for training. I had simply stopped feeling the need to constantly surpass my previous accomplishments.

These days, I enjoy working with 405–455 pounds regularly and occasionally pulling 500 pounds just for the fun of it. At 53, I recognize that maintaining this level of strength for many more years is a worthwhile accomplishment in itself. And something interesting has happened. With the pressure to continually break personal records removed, I enjoy training more. I still train hard. I still challenge myself. I still care about being strong. But I’m no longer chasing a number to prove something to myself or anyone else. I’m simply enjoying an activity that has been an important part of my life for decades.

I think the same lesson applies to business and financial success. I’ve been self-employed for much of my adult life and have spent decades building a career in the fitness industry and developing my supplement business. Building a successful business allowed me to earn a living doing something I enjoyed, invest consistently, and work toward financial independence. These are accomplishments I’m proud of. But here’s the question I’ve increasingly been asking myself: When does pursuing more stop improving your life and start preventing you from enjoying it?

Someone builds an investment portfolio worth a million dollars but decides they can’t relax until it’s worth two million. They reach two million, and suddenly three million becomes the goal. Someone builds a profitable business but feels compelled to keep expanding, even when additional growth means more stress, less free time, and diminishing enjoyment. Someone becomes incredibly fit and strong but remains dissatisfied because there’s always another level to reach. The goalposts keep moving.

Sometimes people become so accustomed to the pursuit that they don’t even know what they’re pursuing anymore. They assume that more success will eventually provide the satisfaction that has continued to elude them. But if you never learn to appreciate what you already have, why would acquiring more suddenly change that?

I’m not suggesting that everyone should stop pursuing ambitious goals or that there is some universal level of wealth, strength, or professional success that constitutes enough. Enough is different for everyone. What matters is being able to recognize what enough means for you.

There’s another aspect of this that I find particularly interesting. Even activities that are supposed to improve our quality of life can become another form of striving. People turn meditation into something they need to master. They turn hiking into a competition over distance, speed, or elevation. They turn reading into a contest over how many books they can finish. They turn relaxation into yet another activity that needs to be optimized. Before long, they’re approaching enjoyment with the same pressure they were supposedly trying to escape.

I’ve spent much of my life in the fitness and personal development world. I understand the value of self-improvement. But I increasingly question the assumption that every experience needs to make us better, stronger, smarter, more productive, or more successful. What’s wrong with doing something simply because you enjoy doing it? Why does everything need to have a measurable benefit? Sometimes the experience itself is enough.

Over the past year, I’ve spent more time enjoying nature with my rescue dogs, Rumi and Derby. We go on long walks every evening and regularly head out for hiking adventures in the beautiful desert surrounding Las Vegas. Recently, we’ve been exploring Sloan Canyon, which is conveniently located near our house and offers miles of spectacular trails.

When we’re hiking, I don’t listen to music, podcasts, or spend time checking my phone. I prefer to disconnect from technology and simply take in the experience. The mountains, the desert scenery, the changing light, the sounds of nature, and, of course, watching Rumi and Derby thoroughly enjoy themselves. Two hours can pass before I even realize it.

And here’s the interesting part. I’m not hiking to burn calories, improve my conditioning, reach a particular destination, or accomplish anything. I’m hiking because I love hiking with my dogs. That’s it.

Rumi and Derby certainly aren’t concerned about how many miles we’ve covered or whether we’ve made progress toward some fitness goal. They’re completely immersed in the experience. An interesting smell, a new trail, a beautiful place to explore, or simply being outdoors together is more than enough to make their day. Their ability to be present and appreciate life’s simple pleasures has really rubbed off on me.

My newest activity has reinforced this lesson even further. I’ve started volunteering with a local animal shelter, taking dogs out for afternoon adventures to give them a break from kennel life. I’ve taken dogs such as Rhino the German Shepherd mix, Amore the Pitbull, and Maddi the retriever out to explore parks and nature preserves. Watching these dogs enjoy a few hours of freedom, affection, and new experiences has been incredibly rewarding and I can’t wait to do it again very soon.

Some are outgoing and confident. Others are shy and need a little time to feel comfortable. But seeing them relax, explore their surroundings, and simply enjoy being dogs is wonderful. These experiences have had an enormously positive effect on my own mood and outlook on life. I return home feeling happier, more optimistic, and more appreciative of what I already have.

I can’t solve every problem in the world or rescue every animal. But I can make a difference in one animal’s day while enjoying the experience myself. There’s no need for an additional accomplishment or reward. The experience is the reward.

As I get closer to retirement, I’ve been thinking more about how I want to spend the next chapter of my life. More hiking adventures with my dogs. More time helping shelter animals. More live music, time in nature, and meaningful experiences. But recently, something occurred to me. Why wait? Why not start living that life right now?

I’ve already begun doing many of the things I want to enjoy during retirement, and they’ve made me significantly happier. In a sense, I’m getting a preview of the life I’m working toward. And it has reinforced an important realization: The purpose of achieving financial independence isn’t simply to accumulate an increasingly impressive amount of money. It’s to create the freedom to live the life you want.

The same applies to building physical strength and fitness. The goal isn’t necessarily to keep getting stronger indefinitely. It’s to build a body that allows you to enjoy life, stay active, and do the things you love. And the purpose of building a business isn’t necessarily to spend the rest of your life making it bigger. It’s to create something worthwhile that supports the life you want to live.

These things are tools. Important tools, certainly, but tools nonetheless. They shouldn’t become permanent obligations that prevent us from enjoying the very life they were supposed to improve.

I still believe in ambition. I still believe in hard work, discipline, and pursuing meaningful goals. And I certainly haven’t lost my interest in strength training, business, or investing. But I’ve become increasingly aware of the difference between pursuing something because it genuinely enriches my life and pursuing it because I’ve become conditioned to believe that more is always better.

There’s a time to build, a time to strive, and a time to push yourself beyond what you previously believed was possible. But there also needs to be a time to appreciate what you’ve built. To enjoy your accomplishments rather than immediately diminishing them by setting another, more demanding goal. To recognize that you don’t have to spend every waking moment improving yourself.

To go hiking without tracking your performance. To spend an afternoon with a shelter dog without expecting anything in return. To enjoy music, nature, friendship, and the company of those you love simply because these experiences make life worth living.

And perhaps most importantly, to understand that you don’t need to resolve every problem or achieve every remaining ambition before allowing yourself to be happy. Life will always present new challenges, uncertainties, and opportunities. There will always be something else you could accomplish. But that doesn’t mean you have to spend your entire life pursuing it.

Perhaps knowing when enough is enough is one of the greatest accomplishments of all.

And perhaps the greatest reward for everything you’ve worked so hard to build is finally giving yourself permission to simply enjoy being alive.