In the entrepreneurial world, exhaustion is worn like a medal. “I work 14 hours a day”, “I haven’t had a holiday in three years”, “I sleep with my phone under the pillow”. We say it with a mix of pride and resignation, as if it proved we were serious. I believed that for a long time too. Since I was 18, when I started Bucharest Popcorn, I have never been anyone’s employee, and for long stretches I ran several companies at once: manufacturing, distribution, transport, insurance, then online stores, Floria (an online flower shop) and, more recently, Retargeting.
There were periods when I worked almost nonstop and was convinced that was how it had to be. Nothing dramatic happened, no movie-style collapse. But looking back, I realise those were the periods when I made some of my worst decisions and enjoyed what I was building the least. So, after more than 20 years as an entrepreneur, I have learned, slowly and with relapses, how to stop. Here is what works for me.
Burnout doesn’t arrive with a siren
The most dangerous thing about burnout is how quietly it settles in. You don’t wake up one morning “burnt out”. You slide into it gradually, and from the inside everything looks normal: it’s just a busy patch, it will pass after the launch, after the season, after one more client. The trouble is that after one season comes another.
That’s why I’ve learned to watch for signs rather than for how tired I “feel”. These are the ones I have recognised in myself and in people around me:
- Irritability. Small things set you off: a badly written email, a repeated question, a colleague five minutes late.
- Bad or postponed decisions. Either you put off everything important, or you decide on autopilot just to get the topic off your plate.
- No joy. A good result does nothing for you anymore. You jump straight to the next problem.
- Free time turns into guilt. An evening without the laptop feels like a wasted evening.
- The people closest to you say something. They usually notice first. They are worth listening to.
When I tick two or three of these, I know I don’t need more work, I need a break. Counterintuitive, but almost always true.
Bad decisions are the real cost of fatigue
Entrepreneurs measure tiredness in lost hours. I have come to measure it in bad decisions. A tired person doesn’t just work slower, they work worse: they negotiate poorly, hire in a hurry, react to emotion instead of numbers. One wrong call made on an exhausted evening can cost you more than a month of holiday.
I once wrote that one prepared person is worth ten unprepared ones. I would now add: one rested person is worth three tired ones. Rest is not a prize you give yourself once the work is done. It is part of the work.
Build a team that works without you
The best antidote to burnout I have found isn’t meditation or sport, although both help. It’s delegation. If your company stops when you switch off your phone, you don’t have a company, you have a very stressful job you created for yourself.
It took me years to accept that other people can do things differently from me and still do them well. A few things that helped:
- Write your processes down. What lives only in your head can’t be delegated.
- Delegate outcomes, not tasks. “I want fewer late deliveries” beats a list of steps.
- Accept small mistakes as the price of your freedom. If you step in every time, people stop making decisions.
- Choose partners you trust completely. I wrote more about this in my piece on how to choose a co-founder.
My test is simple: can I leave for a week without opening the laptop and the business keeps running? If the answer is no, that is the first job to do, before any new project.
Family doesn’t go in the leftover time
I have a wife, a daughter and a son. For a long time, time with them was whatever was left after work. And since work never ends, not much was left. I learned to do it the other way round: family time goes into the calendar first, everything else after. Anyone with kids knows those years don’t come back, and no product launch is worth a missed school show.
There is nothing heroic here. Just small rules: dinner with no phones on the table, weekends when I don’t answer emails that can wait until Monday, holidays booked months ahead so office “emergencies” can’t push them around. Real emergencies are rare. Most are just loud.
Sport and hobbies are not a luxury
I need activities where my mind simply can’t wander back to the office. The best example for me is diving. Underwater there is no signal, no notifications, and you can’t think about cash flow because you are busy breathing properly. That is why diving has remained one of my most constant passions.
Then there is skiing, tennis, bowling with friends and travel. I have been to five continents, and every trip has reset my perspective: problems that looked huge at the office look different from a beach in Asia or a city in America. They don’t have to be expensive sports or exotic destinations. What matters is that it’s something you do regularly, that demands your full attention and has nothing to do with work.
Learn to say no
Entrepreneurs suffer from a lovely disease: they see opportunities everywhere. Every idea looks good, every partnership offer looks like a door opening. But every “yes” to a new project is a “no” to your existing projects, your family or your rest.
Now I ask myself three questions before taking anything on: do I have real time for this, not theoretical time? What do I give up to do it? Would I still say yes if I had to start tomorrow morning? If I hesitate on the third, the answer is no. I have turned down projects that would probably have worked. I don’t regret them. I regret the ones I accepted on reflex and did halfway.
Holidays without the laptop
The last habit is the hardest: holidays without the laptop. Not “almost” without it, where you check email “just for a bit” every evening. That isn’t a holiday, it’s remote work with a view. The first few days are uncomfortable, I admit. Then the brain calms down and starts doing what it does best when left alone: connecting ideas. Many of the good decisions I have made in recent years took shape on holiday, not at the office.
To make it work, I prepare before leaving: who decides while I’m away, what can wait, which phone number is only for genuine emergencies. The team knows, clients are told, and the world doesn’t stop. It never has.
You don’t win a marathon by sprinting
If I had to add one lesson to those I collected in 20 years of entrepreneurship in Romania, it would be this: entrepreneurship is a marathon, and whoever runs every kilometre like a sprint doesn’t reach the finish. Hard work is sometimes necessary. Nonstop work is just an elegant way of burning yourself out.
How do you know you’ve pushed too hard? And what habit helps you stop in time?