What are you actually optimizing for?

I was at the gym last week between sets, scrolling LinkedIn on my phone while catching my breath, when I saw a post from a founder I'd talked to a couple months back. I don't even remember what the post was about. But seeing his name triggered the memory of our conversation, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. So I went to the treadmill, started running, and let my mind wander. Because when you're running and there's nothing to do but think, sometimes you arrive at conclusions you didn't expect.

‍

The conversation came back in pieces. He runs a small marketing agency. Eight people. $40K a month in revenue. By most measures, doing fine. We were on a Zoom call, and I asked him a simple question: "What do you actually want? Let's say six months from now, everything goes the way you hope. What does that look like?"

"You've got eight people now, $40K coming in. Do you want more money? More free time? Different projects? Personal recognition? The feeling that you're doing something important?"

‍

He paused. Then said: "I want the agency to work without me."

‍

I let that sit for a second, then pushed back gently.

"Okay, but let's be honest. You can step back from daily operations, sure. But there's always going to be someone who has to care. Someone who catches the ball before it drops. An agency that truly works without you — that's more like being a portfolio owner than a founder. And that requires completely different people at the top. Different systems. Different everything."

"But why? What's the point of building that?"

‍

He went quiet. We sat there on the video call, looking at each other through the screen. Five minutes, maybe longer. I didn't rush him.

Finally, he said: "You know... I've never actually asked myself that question."

‍

He kept talking, thinking out loud.

"Everyone talks about building a business that runs without you. And I just assumed that's what I should be aiming for. I pictured myself earning two or three times what I make now, having all this free time, working on side projects I've been putting off. But I'm already working 60 hours a week. And I don't actually want to be a portfolio owner. This business means something to me. The people I work with — my team — those relationships matter. I like being involved."

‍

I told him: "You know, my first business partner said something to me years ago that I believed for way too long. He said: 'Lots of clients is a good problem to have.'"

That was around 2010. Our business was growing fast, and we'd sometimes talk about where things were headed. One day I asked him: "What are we even doing? We've got brochure design here, a website there, a call center system over there, logo work somewhere else. Who are we? What do we actually do?"

He laughed. "Lots of clients is a good problem."

‍

And I believed him. For years.

‍

So we said yes to everything. Every opportunity, every client willing to pay. We grew like crazy, hired more and more people, chased volume because that's what "growth" looked like. But eventually, I started seeing the cracks. One Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk going through our financials — the way I did most Fridays — and I saw it clearly for the first time.

‍

Our margin per employee was pathetic. After all the costs, we were left with crumbs. And clients kept pushing prices lower because we were competing with freelancers in India, the Philippines, Pakistan — people willing to work for almost nothing. We'd turned ourselves into a commodity. We weren't getting paid for expertise or knowledge. We were getting compared to Upwork profiles and losing on price. And the only way to make any profit at all was to hire more people. Because if the margin per person is tiny, you need more people to turn those crumbs into something resembling a real number.

‍

It was a treadmill to nowhere.

‍

Back at the gym, running on the actual treadmill, I kept thinking about that conversation with the founder. And I realized: what I went through — what he's going through — it's not unique. Most agency founders go through the same phases.

‍

But here's what hit me mid-run: these phases aren't stages. They're options.

‍

And the problem is, most founders never stop to ask themselves what they're actually optimizing for. So they just drift from one phase to the next, assuming "growth" means moving forward. Until one day they wake up and realize they built something they never wanted.

‍

There's the operator phase: just you, maybe one or two people. You do the work, you make the money. AI and contract help make this more viable now than it used to be. You can even layer in digital products — courses, templates, tools — to create income that doesn't depend on your energy or mood that week.

‍

Then there's the coordinator phase, where most agency owners get stuck. Five to ten people. Looks like a real business from the outside. Decent revenue. But everything still depends entirely on you. Every decision, every piece of client work, every fire that needs putting out. And when things get tight, the instinct is: hire more people. But that just makes it worse, because now you're managing and coordinating even more, and you've hit a ceiling tied directly to your personal capacity.

‍

That's where the question becomes critical: What do I actually want?

Do you want to stay small, tight, controlled? Build real expertise in a niche and learn to say no to opportunities that don't fit?

Do you want to scale thoughtfully — bring in systems, delegate decision-making, build a network of trusted partners who handle the stuff you don't want to say yes to but your clients need?

Or do you want to go all the way — build a business that runs on frameworks, checklists, protocols, data, and KPIs, where most problems never reach you because the system handles them?

None of these is wrong. They're just optimizing for different things.

‍

The sweet spot I missed

‍

When I talked to that founder, and he admitted he didn't actually want more people, didn't care about massive revenue growth, but did want time for his own projects and stability when sales dipped — I told him:

"What you're describing is a hybrid. Coordinator meets operator. Your team has authority, resources, and responsibility to make decisions without dragging you into every question. But you're still involved. You're still building relationships, shaping culture, helping people grow. You're defining direction. You just don't have to be the answer to every problem."

"You don't need to build a business that works without you. And honestly? That's impossible anyway. You just need a business that doesn't drain you."

He thought about that. Then said: "I've never thought about it that way."

‍

We kept talking for a bit. Then the call ended. We stay in touch occasionally, just messages here and there. I don't know if he'll ever become a client. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But I'm glad I could help him see something he couldn't see on his own. That's the thing about being inside your business — you can't always see what you're optimizing for until someone asks you directly. And honestly? That moment on the treadmill made me realize: that sweet spot he described? That's where I should've stopped years ago. Ten, maybe fifteen people. Small enough to know everyone. Big enough to do meaningful work. Expert enough to say no to commodity bullshit and yes to projects that matter. But I didn't stop. Because I thought "lots of clients is a good problem," and I was optimizing for the wrong thing without even realizing it.

‍

Here's what I want you to do this weekend:

‍

Sit down somewhere quiet. No laptop, no distractions. Just you and a piece of paper.

Write down this question: "What am I actually optimizing for?"

Not what you think you should want. Not what everyone says you're supposed to build.

What do you actually want?

More revenue? More free time? A tighter team? A bigger one? Recognition? Legacy? The freedom to work on other projects? The satisfaction of building something excellent in a specific niche?

Write it down. Be honest. Then ask yourself: "Is what I'm building actually optimized for that? Or am I drifting toward something I don't even want because I never stopped to ask?"

Most founders never do this. They just assume the next phase is the goal. Until they get there and realize it wasn't.

‍

So... What are you actually optimizing for? And is your business actually built for that?

Hit reply and tell me. I read every response.