Pursuing an academic goal is within the realm of science. But how most people do it, isn't. For some particular reason, people assume that professionalism transfers between skills. But being a good scientist does not mean you are a good manager—and neither does it work vice versa. The prevalent naïveté of assuming how to do things right is baffling. Just ask yourself:
Have you ever been taught how to study?
If you were, I would be happy for you. But my hunch, the majority of us haven't. If you are a first-generation academic (as I am), chances are probably even lower since you did not have access to the tacit knowledge of people who made their fair share of mistakes.
I have hinted multiple times that the scientific approach of striving for sustainable Peak Performance is omnipresent in the world of exercise science. I am not the first to make the connection that getting to the mountaintop is conceptually the same in exercise, entrepreneurship, and science. For the curious-minded, I suggest you might benefit from Scott H. Young's Ultralearning or the books of computer science professor Cal Newport.
The most important task is to make people aware of it: starting a Ph.D. will bring a fundamental change in the objectives of what you need to excel at. In contrast to acing the curriculum, there is no generally-applicable, step-by-step guide to discovering something new. There are best practices (such as exploring the adjacent possible), but there are no "10 steps to reach a scientific discovery".
I previously touched upon hedging high- and low-risk projects and embracing variability to maintain our drive. But that's not enough. I am not preaching about work-life balance, but your work will suffer if your life is not in order. There is mounting scientific evidence besides common sense telling you that how you eat, sleep, and relax significantly affects your performance. Obvious, isn't it?
This post is not about pointing out the obvious per se, but it is about pointing out that the obvious is often hidden by the Invisibility Cloak of our ignorance.
Sometimes, the obvious is what we need to be reminded of.