Autumn Reflections: How We Spend Our Time

By Elliot Conway The year turns, the days shorten, the pace quickens. Autumn makes time visible again. It’s the season that reminds us nothing stands still - not the leaves, not the light, not our days. Which makes it the perfect moment to ask: how are we really spending our hours?

As Ted Sarandos of Netflix said, when they create a new show it isn’t just competing with what’s on that night - it’s competing with everything that’s ever been made. His Chairman, Reed Hastings, was even blunter: “Our biggest competitor is sleep.”

They’re right. Everything we need to do and want to do competes for the same scarce, equal resource: time.

Time Isn’t Fungible

We like to think of time as fungible - an hour is an hour. But that’s not how it feels.

Some of my favourite footballers - Glenn Hoddle, Andrea Pirlo, Luka Modrić - seemed to have more time on the ball than anyone else. They slowed the game to their rhythm, always two steps ahead, always unhurried.

And then there’s Tom Brady in Super Bowl LI, 2017. His Patriots were trailing the Falcons 28-3 with just over two minutes left in the third quarter. By any normal measure, there wasn’t enough time left. But Brady bent time. He orchestrated drive after drive, 25 unanswered points, forcing overtime, and ultimately winning 34-28 - the greatest comeback in Super Bowl history.

What looks like “more time” isn’t magic. It’s clarity, anticipation, and preparation. The lesson for the rest of us: time expands when you’re intentional.

False Idols of Productivity

I’ll admit: I’ve always been sceptical (and a little jealous) of those day-in-the-life profiles of high-flying executives who supposedly wake at 4am, gym, run, smoothie, inbox zero, and work straight through to 10pm.

It makes for good copy, but it isn’t real life - and it isn’t desirable. We don’t need to stuff more hours into the day. We need better hours.

Another hero of mine, Jerry Seinfeld, calls it “garbage time” - those unstructured moments when you’re not producing, but still living.

The counterintuitive truth is that the marquee, tent-pole moments in life - the big deal, the big holiday, the big celebration - are wonderful, but they’re often not as meaningful as the time in between them.

In fact, it’s the in-between time that gives those marquee moments their meaning. The dog walks, the in-car chats, the sofa sessions - these are the raw material of memory. They’re what make the highlights feel like highlights.

Life isn’t about living for the big moments. It’s about how you spend the countless ordinary hours in between. And sometimes those hours, if you let them breathe, contain the best ideas, the most honest conversations, and the deepest connections.

A Different Model of Time

Consider Warren Buffett. He spends nearly all his days reading, thinking, waiting. And then, when the “fat pitch” comes, he swings decisively. His discipline lies not in filling time, but in refusing to squander it on noise.

The opposite is the trap we must resist: “I must do something. This is something. So, I’ll do it.” Busyness masquerading as progress.

With this in mind, I’ve started to run a weekly calendar audit with three headings:

• Value: Did I create or contribute to something meaningful?

• Noise: What drained energy without moving anything forward?

• Legacy: Will this still matter in 10 years?
  

It’s simple but clarifying. And it makes the trade-offs visible. I picked it up from reading about Brad Jacobs, who built billion-dollar companies again and again by mastering time and priorities.

A Personal Experiment

A few weeks ago, inspired by my Co-Founder Andy Alderson and friend Avrom, I committed to dunking in an ice bath every morning (Sunday to Friday!) and I haven’t missed a day yet. I know this admission potentially opens me up to ridicule but I’m not sure I care, because the truth is, it’s working.

Five minutes of cold exposure hasn’t just boosted recovery - it’s slowed me down, sharpened my mind, and paradoxically made me feel as if I have more time.

And by putting this in writing, I’m adding another layer: accountability. Now I’ve given myself one more reason to keep it going, especially as winter isn’t that far away.

The bigger point is this: sometimes a single ritual can transform our relationship with time. It doesn’t create more hours. It changes the quality of the hours you already have.

What Really Matters

The weekly “screen time” report on my iPhone is a brutal mirror. It shows me where my attention really went - often not where I wanted it to.

And as my kids grow up fast, I’m acutely aware: these stages don’t come back. One school run doesn’t matter. A thousand do. I refuse to wish them away.

Because the highest return on time isn’t measured in IRR. It’s measured in memories, in relationships, in love. Business cycles come and go; our kids are only “this age” once.

And at work, it’s no different. In building Alderway, and in meeting countless leaders at the top of their games, I’ve seen how diaries reflect priorities. People don’t just listen to what you say; they watch where you actually spend your time.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Time is the great equaliser. Everyone gets 24 hours. But those hours aren’t interchangeable. Some stretch. Some shrink. Some matter. Some don’t. In the end, we are what we do, not what we say we do.

Our calendar is our character. Our diary reflects our values. If you want to know who you are becoming, don’t look at your goals. Look at last week’s schedule.