By Barbara Stewart
As January came to a close, I found myself doing something that does not come easily for me. I adjusted one of my goals for the first twelve weeks of the year.
That decision mattered.
I am persistent and determined by nature. When I set goals, I do so thoughtfully and with intention. I know my goals are often ambitious, but I also believe they are achievable. I have worked from a 12‑week planning rhythm for more than two years, and it has helped me stay focused, accountable, and successful.
Which is exactly why this moment stood out.
Listening to what the data was telling me
One of the disciplines I rely on most is weekly tracking. Every week, I keep score. That practice creates awareness long before a quarter ends. You can see patterns forming while there is still time to respond.
After four weeks, one goal stood out. I was taking action, but I was not making the progress I had expected. Week after week, the indicators were flat. And if I am honest, it was starting to feel discouraging.
When you track progress weekly, two things happen. First, you cannot ignore reality. Second, you feel the emotional impact sooner. I could sense the beginning of a negative spiral. Pushing harder without clarity. Questioning myself instead of questioning the plan.
That was my signal to pause.
That decision took humility. I had to wrestle with whether I was backing away from the goal or listening to what the data was telling me.
Stepping back without letting go
I did not abandon the goal. It is still something I want to achieve. What I did instead was step back and reflect on what was actually happening.
As I moved toward the goal and took action, I realized there were things I was not prepared for. There were also things my team was not prepared for. Most importantly, I discovered there were several smaller steps between where we were and the outcome I had envisioned.
The destination still made sense. The leap did not.
This is a moment I see many leaders struggle with. We either push through stubbornly, hoping effort alone will solve the problem, or we quietly let the goal fade away and label it unrealistic. Neither approach felt right to me.
So I chose a different path.
Redefining what progress looks like
I adjusted the goal, not by lowering the standard, but by redefining progress.
I identified the intermediate steps that needed to happen first. I clarified what capabilities my team and I needed to build before expecting a different result. And I changed what I measure week to week so progress reflects meaningful forward movement, not just a distant outcome.
That shift changed everything.
Momentum returned. Learning replaced frustration. Progress became visible again.
Why this matters for leaders
I am sharing this because I know I am not alone.
This experience goes beyond New Year’s resolutions. Even with discipline, structure, and experience, there will be times when a goal reveals more complexity than we anticipated.
That is not failure. It is feedback.
Effective leadership is not about rigidly sticking to a plan that no longer fits reality. It is about paying attention, learning quickly, and adjusting course while staying committed to what matters most.
A question worth asking
If you are feeling stuck on a goal right now, consider this question:
Is the outcome wrong, or is the path incomplete?
Often, the work is not to try harder, but to get clearer. To fill in the steps that were missing. To prepare yourself and your team for what success actually requires.
Hold on to the outcome.
Adjust the path.
Give yourself permission to lead with both determination and wisdom.
Continuing the conversation
This reflection did not stop with this post. It carried over into the Conversation Among Leaders held in February, where I shared more context and talked openly with other leaders about adjusting goals, reading the data, and maintaining momentum when progress stalls.
If you would like to listen in, you can access the recording here.
And if you would like to join a future Conversation Among Leaders, you are welcome to apply here.
