How I Kicked the Cramming Habit (and What Happened Next)

I’ll admit, the urge to cram is wired deep. For years, I thought big wins came from big efforts. If I didn’t block out whole weekends or exhaust myself in one sitting, how could it possibly count? Of course, those heroic sprints left me burnt out or, honestly, just dreading the next round.

Here’s the problem every engineer or AI hopeful meets sooner or later: those ambitious, exciting goals—the ones that actually matter—begin to stall out. Progress shows up in intense, irregular bursts. You promise yourself a fresh start after a rough week, but then the cycle repeats, burnout, procrastination, the heavy feeling that you can’t even get started. It’s not a lack of motivation, just too much friction at the launchpad.

By the end of this, you’ll know how to pick a minimal daily step for your biggest goal—and actually do it, every day. That small start adds up, faster than you think.

Why Tiny Habits for Software Engineers Win (Even for Big, Complex Goals)

Back when I still believed you could “catch up” on progress if you just tried hard enough, I figured gym workouts worked the same way—skipped a week, then hit everything in one wild Saturday. It never worked. You can’t get all your physical exercise for the week in one session, and for learning or building anything complex, tiny habits for software engineers beat batching by making you show up again and again. When learning is spaced out—even by just a few percent—performance climbs in a way batching can’t match. The win isn’t in massive effort; it’s in showing up often enough that it becomes part of what you do.

Here’s why. There’s always a hidden barrier right at the start—the activation energy that makes you hesitate or delay. In technical terms, it’s like the “energy spike” your system needs before anything starts running. Every bit of extra friction (finding which lesson, figuring out what repo to open, picking what to do next) jacks up that barrier, so you just keep putting it off. But if you slice down the hassle to a single, tiny action, you drop the activation energy way lower. Want proof? In one well-run study, cutting down hassle factors shot action rates from 15% to 53%—making the first step easier nearly quadruples follow-through.

That’s not a motivational poster; it’s physics and psychology working together to move you forward. The minimal start step is your ignition switch. Once that’s in place, “hard to start” transforms into “already started.” No more wrestling with yourself, just a ritual you can trust.

A minimal start step isn’t just “do a little.” It’s more specific: define a minimum viable action you can begin in 60–120 seconds, with zero decisions, zero setup, and a simple yes/no for success. That’s it. For me, it’s logging onto the Azure portal and reading one ARM template, or for an AI project, pressing play on a 2-minute tutorial or running a small Jupyter cell. You want it too easy to skip.

Here’s what happens next: with small steps big results, repeating those small starts day after day makes them compound. When you show up consistently, you don’t just build momentum—you build habits. Habit strength jumps when routines are self-chosen, timed well, and repeated—think morning rituals and micro-prep making habits really stick.

You might worry tiny is too slow to matter—like you’ll never get anywhere if you only start small. The truth? The tiny start is just the ignition, not the whole drive. Most days I end up doing more once I begin. Sometimes, that’s all I manage (and that’s fine, because I kept the promise). Tiny on its own—but over time, those wins stack up. That’s how the big, ambitious stuff finally moves. You’ll surprise yourself with how far you get—just by making it frictionless to begin.

What a Minimal Start Actually Looks Like (and How to Make It Stick)

For my study goal, that means logging in and hitting the play button. That’s it. If I log in and start the first lesson, it counts as a win for the day. The only thing that matters is making the action so small and clear that there’s no space for debate or delay.

The same idea runs through engineering and AI work: micro habits for engineers you can repeat without friction. Maybe it’s opening your IDE and running the linter on yesterday’s code. It could be reading the first pull request in your queue or opening a dataset and running a baseline model. All of these are small, achievable wins—simple, unmistakable actions that tell you, “yes, I started.”

Getting this right usually comes down to designing the path of least resistance. For me, that’s doing it at the same time every morning, browser tabs preloaded, and one-click shortcuts right on my desktop. No searching, no setup.

I keep only the study tab open, the playlist queued to the next lesson, and my notes app beside it. Sometimes I even start the night before—leaving my laptop open to the page, so all I have to do is press play. If you’re working on code, that might mean having your most-used repo cloned to a single folder, or a bash script that launches your dev environment and opens the docs you need. Make everything about your starting ritual smoother than not starting. The less you have to think or decide, the more likely you are to move forward—consistently, not just occasionally.

Weirdly, this same friction principle hit home the day I lost my guitar pick. I kept telling myself I’d just practice for five minutes. But searching for that pick every night? It was enough to make me skip. Micro-friction kills momentum, even when the habit is tiny.

It’s the same everywhere. Five push-ups, reading one line of Spanish, or strumming the first chord. Give yourself an easy starting block, and pretty soon, consistency stops feeling like such a struggle.

Your First Week: Tiny Steps, Real Progress

Here’s your plan for this week, if you want to give this a real shot. Pick just one goal—something that’s been stuck or feels too big to start. Write a one-line “start step” that’s so bite-sized you can’t talk yourself out of it. Schedule it at the same time every day, whatever fits your routine. Put a reminder somewhere you can’t ignore—a sticky note on your laptop, an alarm on your phone, the browser home page. This isn’t about doing everything at once. It’s about making the start automatic.

Honestly, starting slow is normal, even if you secretly wish it’d ramp up faster. The first few days, my only win was logging in and watching a single AZ-305 video—sometimes just five or ten minutes. But it’s wild how often a tiny start snowballs into more. If I pressed play, half the time I’d watch two or three videos before I realized it. Most of my actual progress came from those “accidental” expansions, not epic sessions. That minimum step isn’t just a box to check—it’s the gearshift that kicks you into motion.

If you think this won’t work for complex or technical goals, I promise. The minimal action isn’t your whole build, just your entry ticket. For deep work, the hardest part is always getting past the fuzz at the edge—where motivation fizzles and friction spikes. The tiny step gets you through the doorway, setting focus without asking your brain to commit to hours. Whether I’m mapping out a solution architecture for AZ-305 or debugging an AI workflow, pressing play or opening the IDE is my coding habit starter that warms up attention muscles.

Complexity doesn’t mind small beginnings—it needs them. Once you’re inside the space, you can always go deeper. But instead of relying on random bursts of energy, you’re showing up consistently, letting focus build from a simple ritual. You lower activation energy, widen your window for flow, and dodge the “I’ll start tomorrow” trap.

Track your streak if that motivates you—a list on paper, or a daily check-in in your notes app. Celebrate the day you actually show up, not just when you crush it. Give yourself off-days without guilt, but protect that core consistency like you would any important system. Each tiny start is momentum banking up; don’t let burnout raid your reserves. This way, progress really does compound—and you get somewhere real, instead of running on empty.

Make Progress Simple: Feedback Loops and the Rule of Escalation

This isn’t about being a hero. It’s about compounding tiny, reliable actions over time—the kind that add up while you barely notice.

So here’s your move. Pick one start step and do it today. Nothing fancy—just begin where momentum can find you.

Even now, I catch myself thinking I could probably “make up” for missed steps by going big later. That used to set me back every time. Maybe that’s one thing I haven’t completely shaken off yet.