Baseline Drift: When “Normal” Isn’t Healthy
- John Winston
- Apr 30
- 4 min read
You wake up tired but not exhausted. Training doesn’t feel great, but you’re getting through it. Work is draining but manageable. Nothing is obviously wrong. Yet something feels… off.
You tell yourself you’re just in a low patch. You push through, adjust expectations, and normalize the flatness. Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Eventually, this becomes your new baseline. It doesn’t feel good, but it feels familiar.
That’s where the trap is.
This is what we call baseline drift—the slow recalibration of your nervous system and internal state toward dysfunction that now passes as normal. Your metrics may not raise any alarms, and your routines may still be intact, but underneath the surface, your system is adapting in ways that limit resilience, clarity, and performance. It’s not because you’ve stopped trying. It happens because you’ve stopped noticing.

Adaptation Works Both Ways
The nervous system is incredibly adaptable. This results in a plethora of benefits until it adapts in the wrong direction. When you experience high stress without enough recovery, your system adjusts to handle that load. At first, this feels like strength. You become more efficient, more productive, more “on.” Your system begins to interpret this activated state as the new normal. Calm starts to feel foreign. Slowing down starts to feel unsafe.
Over time, this leads to a version of yourself that can function well enough under chronic tension but not truly thrive. You’re no longer bouncing back—you’re just staying afloat. You’re not growing—you’re just preserving. The more this state persists, the harder it becomes to recognize what it actually feels like to be fully regulated.
This is how people end up living in low-grade stress, inflammation, or fatigue for years. Their baseline drifted so gradually that it never triggered a full system alarm. The change didn’t feel like collapse. It felt like adaptation.
The Neuroscience of Numbness
When you live in a state of low-level stress, your brain begins to downregulate the parts of itself that process internal feedback. Areas like the insula and anterior cingulate cortex—which help you detect hunger, emotion, breath depth, and fatigue—become less sensitive. The nervous system learns to tune out “noise” so it can keep performing.
The problem is that the noise is actually the signal. These internal cues are how you determine what you need, when you need it, and how much strain you can handle. When those signals get muted, you lose access to your most important feedback system. You stop adjusting behavior based on how you feel and start making decisions based on routine or obligation.
This is where people begin to train through pain, override emotional signals, and dismiss persistent symptoms. There’s a place for that, but that place is a thin line. When you start to drift, it doesn’t feel like signal suppression. It feels relatively normal until your body reminds you that you’re not actually doing too hot.
Illusion of Consistency
One of the sneakiest parts of baseline drift is how it mimics consistency. You’re still showing up. You’re still hitting deadlines. You’re still checking the boxes. On the outside, nothing looks broken.
This creates a false sense of stability, and because you haven’t hit rock bottom, it feels like things must be okay. The reality is that your nervous system is compensating. It’s managing, not thriving. Like any system under sustained tension, compensation has a shelf life.
Eventually, this catches up. What used to feel like a slight dip becomes the new ceiling. Recovery takes longer. Clarity gets hazy. Training doesn’t hit the same. You’re not failing. You’re under-responding to inputs that used to build you. The system has grown dull not because you’ve grown weak but because you’ve accepted a lower state as normal without consciously knowing it.
You Can’t Navigate with a Broken Compass
When your baseline shifts, it also distorts your sense of progress. You begin to evaluate how you’re doing from a warped lens. The body might be sending subtle signals—decreased appetite, shallow breathing, tighter muscles—but you miss them. This isn’t because you’re disconnected; it happens because the new normal has taught you not to listen.
This makes it difficult to trust your instincts. You might second-guess whether you’re tired or just unmotivated. Whether you need rest or are just being soft. Whether a hard conversation should be avoided or engaged. In this state, you start relying heavily on data, feedback from others, or rigid plans—not because they’re better but because your internal compass is foggy.
Restoring that compass is not about tracking more. It’s about regaining sensitivity. The ability to feel subtle shifts and respond before they escalate. That level of awareness doesn’t come from grit alone. It comes from space.
Fighting Baseline Drift
One way to begin resetting your baseline is to intentionally expose yourself to regulation. That means creating structured time to experience states of real rest—not just physical stillness but physiological downshifting. Breathwork, long walks, unstructured stillness, or moments where nothing is required of you.
This isn’t about optimization. It’s about contrast. When you give your body a different state to experience, it helps the nervous system remember what “well” actually feels like. That becomes the new reference point. With enough exposure, it stops feeling foreign and starts to feel familiar again.
Recalibration doesn’t require overhauling your life. It just requires creating enough awareness to recognize what your system has been missing.
References
Craig, A. D. (2009). How do you feel — now? The anterior insula and human awareness. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10(1), 59–70.
McEwen, B. S. (2007). Physiology and neurobiology of stress and adaptation: central role of the brain. Physiological Reviews, 87(3), 873–904.
Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation. W. W. Norton & Company.
Sterling, P. (2012). Allostasis: A model of predictive regulation. Physiology & Behavior, 106(1), 5–15.
Thayer, J. F., & Lane, R. D. (2000). A model of neurovisceral integration in emotion regulation and dysregulation. Journal of Affective Disorders, 61(3), 201–216.
Barrett, L. F., & Simmons, W. K. (2015). Interoceptive predictions in the brain. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 16(7), 419–429.
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