When we decide we want to push our upper limits, we must first determine and declare what our current limit is. We need to define it, give it a measurement, draw a line, and then seek out a project that will push that limit. And then spend however long it takes trying to conquer it.

Project climbing is a paradox, because projects are at our limit until we do them. And once we send, it’s no longer our limit, is it? We’ve inched that line forward, redefined what is possible, and established a new marker of our performance. We have a new baseline. And now we get to start the process all over again: define a limit, set a goal, and try to beat it.

Say we keep doing this, inching our limit up and up. Then what’s our actual limit? How long can we keep this up? Do we even have an upper limit?

After listening to athletes who have been in the game long enough, to paraphrase basketball great Karl Malone, it pretty much comes down to whenever you don’t want it bad enough anymore. You can keep pushing that bar forward for as long as you are still willing to put in the time and effort, and more of both are required as you get older.

The paradox of project climbing—of any quest for mastery—is that you are always at your limit, while simultaneously never at your limit.

Once you accept this fundamental truth, you can learn to love the process, not just the achievement.