The Marathon of the Last Mile

f the hardest part of any race is getting going, then the second hardest is definitely the final push to cross the line.

In exciting news, the finish line for Arete is finally in sight. After months of pivoting, iterating, and surviving a steep learning curve, the light is finally peeking over the horizon. I’m in the final stages of polishing the app and getting it ready for users—a feat that, honestly, feels monumental given the journey it took to get here.

But here’s the thing: pushing through these last few inches has been way more challenging than I anticipated.

Have you ever been so close to finishing a project that you can practically smell the victory, only to find your internal drive suddenly stalls out? Or it feels like for every two bugs you squash, three tinier, more annoying ones pop up to take their place?

At this stage, the work isn't about the big, sweeping architecture anymore; it’s about the finishes. In the world of Arete, that looks like an endless list of overflow errors, buttons that don't quite click right, or icons that refuse to behave.

These micro-edits might seem insignificant to the casual observer, but they’re the details that carry all the psychological weight. It’s like walking into a gorgeous new house only to realize there are no baseboards or door handles. You might not name the problem immediately, but the closer you look, the less it feels like a "home" and the more it still feels like a construction site.

If I’m being perfectly honest, I’ve felt a massive amount of resistance over the last two weeks. You’d think after all this blood, sweat, and code, I’d be sprinting toward the ribbon. Instead, I’ve found myself procrastinating—prioritizing literally anything else and going days without even touching the app.

It’s a bizarre form of self-sabotage I noticed that got me wondering: Why is the end so much heavier than the beginning? To no surprise, there’s reason for this dread, and it’s something almost every one of us falls victim to.

The 90/10 Rule

It turns out, there is a concept in project management circles called the 90/10 Rule. It’s a cynical (yet frighteningly accurate) variation of the Pareto Principle.

The rule states:

Think about that for a second.

It suggests that our perception of "progress" is fundamentally flawed. We spend the first few months of a project flying. We build the walls, we roof the house, we install the plumbing. We look at the structure and think, "Wow, I'm almost there!"

It’s as if it popped up overnight.

But the "almost" is a mirage.

We’ve finished the macro, but the micro is where the clock actually lives. In software development—and in life—the "last 10%" is where the "edge cases" live; where the weird bugs, the user experience friction, and the final polish reside. It is the iceberg beneath the water, and if we aren't careful, it’s where momentum goes to die.

The Lifecycle of the Spark

In his book The Creative Act (which I’ve mentioned before and highly recommend), Rick Rubin talks about the different phases of an artistic project. He describes the initial phase as one of pure "Source"—where ideas are flowing, energy is high, and the world feels full of possibility. Everything is "blueprints" and "sketches."

But as a project moves toward completion, it shifts into the Craft phase, where we do most of the building. The final stage is Completion. This is the stage of discipline. The stage of the "last 10%."

He offers a helpful guideline to know when something is finished:

Helpful, right? *eye roll*

To combat this, he embraces a connected detachment—being connected to the project but detached from the outcome.

At the start, you are fueled by dopamine and the "new car smell" of a fresh idea. By the end, you are fueled by sheer willpower. The energy is lower, the motivation is waning, and the visible progress slows to a crawl. When you’re building the frame of a house, you can see the change every day. When you’re caulking the baseboards (or however you install them, I’m not a carpenter), you can work for eight hours and the house looks exactly the same to the casual observer on quick glance.

This creates an Illusion of Progress. We think because the heavy lifting is done, the finish line is just a step away. In reality, we’ve just warmed up.

Scope Creep

Why do we kick the can down the road when we are so close to the goal?

There’s something I’ve come across in my own creative process with Arete called scope creep. And it’s something we don’t realize is happening until we’re drowning in it.

Scope creep manifests in two ways: tweak additions and tweak delays.

In tweak additions, you fix one button, and then you think, "Well, wouldn't it be better if it also made a slight clicking sound? And if it makes a sound, I should probably add a volume toggle." Suddenly, your 10% has grown back into 40%. We expand the requirements to avoid the finality of finishing.

Where I’ve really been hit with Arete, is in tweak delays. This is where you get a part of the project “just good enough” to move on to the next phase and you leave the clean up for later. That’s like cleaning every room in the house, but you save dusting until the very end. When you go back to dust, you end up having to pick everything up again, knocking dirt and debris and you might as well go back and re-vacuum the floors.

The Boredom of the Mundane

Let’s be real: polishing is boring. The initial "carnival" phase of a project is exciting and colorful. Polishing is just proofreading. It’s triple-checking copy. It’s testing the same login flow 50 times to make sure it doesn’t break on an iPhone 12 Mini. Our brains, which crave the "shiny new thing," start to scream for a new project to rescue them from the boredom of the current one.

Rubin talks about this and encourages us to find new projects at the ending phase of a current one. The excitement of a new project can actually motivate us to finish our current one so that we can get into the new one more fully. Not a bad tactic!

Perfectionism and the Fear of "The End"

There is a safety in the 90% mark. As long as the project is "almost done," it can still be perfect in your head. But once it’s 100% done, it has to face the world. It has to be judged. It has to exist in reality, flaws and all.

We procrastinate because "finished" means "exposed." This is often where Imposter Syndrome kicks in. Though I’d like to admit I’m immune, I am human and it’s something we all encounter. After all, I’m a music teacher who is building a wellness app! Talk about juxtaposition.

Expectation vs. Reality

Growing up, my mother and I loved to watch HGTV. We especially loved home renovation shows like Love it or List it, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, and my mother’s favorite, Fixer Upper with Chip and Joanna Gaines.

Among the most common tropes in shows like these is the “Unexpected Demo Find.” The host is two days away from the reveal, everything looks great, and then BAM they rip up a piece of linoleum and find a rotted log or a family of raccoons living in the foundation. Suddenly, they don't have the budget for the updated laundry room AND the kid’s bathroom, dramatic music plays, and usually one of the homeowners is in tears because they can’t get everything they want.

While these moments are often manufactured for dramatic effect, there is a profound truth there: Renovations always cost more and take longer than we initially anticipate. This is just as true for any project. When we set our expectations to "perfectly smooth," we create friction the moment reality hits a snag. If we expect the rotted log in the final 10%, we aren't devastated when we find it. We just grab the crowbar and get to work.

Expectations are the root of suffering. By not allowing our expectations to dictate the speed of the process, we yield to a more natural flow. We stop fighting the "last 10%" and start respecting it as a separate, distinct season of the work.

How to Actually Cross the Line

One way to ensure you cross the finish line is called “pre-crastination.” As you might expect, this is prioritizing all of the tasks that you are likely to procrastinate on and deciding to do them first or at least earlier in the project. This is the whole “The obstacle is the way,” philosophy. Plan for what you know you’re likely going to avoid and get it out of the way as quickly as possible.

Here are some things I’m practicing with Arete right now that you might be able to incorporate into your next project or creative task:

• Manage the Dials: As Jon Acuff says in his book “Soundtracks” turn down the volume on the "it’s not good enough" soundtrack and turn up the "done is better than perfect" soundtrack.

• The Power of Stepping Away: Another Rick Rubin concept: when you are too close to the screen, you can’t see the picture. I’ve found that taking two days off from the app actually makes me more productive on the third day because the "tunnel vision" has cleared.

• Break the 10% into 1%s: "Finish the app" is too big. "Fix the color of the 'Submit' button on the profile page" is doable.

• Establish Contingency Plans: Know what "Minimum Viable Product" looks like. Not everything has to be gold-plated for the beta launch.

What’s Next for Arete?

Despite the resistance, the progress is real. I’ve got some exciting opportunities coming up that are acting as my "north star" to get this across the line.

In addition to the app being almost ready for its beta launch, I will be involved with Tampa Bay Tech Week. I am partnering with another app on the opening and closing events for Tech Week, which gives me the opportunity to be in front of hundreds of tech and wellness individuals. This is an amazing opportunity to engage with the community and bring new members into the Arete ecosystem.

I will also be moderating a panel called “Maintaining Trust in the Age of AI.” I’ll be interviewing a panel of experts to explore how we can leverage the productivity advantages of AI to increase the trust others have in us through our authenticity. It’s a topic I’m deeply passionate about—how we remain human in a world that is becoming increasingly automated.

The finish line is there.
It’s right there.
I can see the tape.

I just have to remember that the last mile isn't a sprint—it’s a test of sincerity.

This finish line is the first of many, but I’m beyond excited to cross this hurdle and set my sights on the next.

What is that "final 10%" project in your life right now? Is it a conversation you’ve been avoiding? A book you’ve almost finished reading or writing? A health goal that’s just a few weeks away? A vacation you’ve been putting off planning?

Whatever it is, stop looking at how far you have left to go and start looking at the evidence of how far you’ve already come.

The birds are still singing. Your coffee still tastes good. And the finish line isn't going anywhere.

Until next time, live uninterrupted.

~ Coleman