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How many chess-related problems can you spot with this AI-generated image? It is comical how many there are that I figured I would just go with it
Let me start with a confession: I’m not sure if my daily chess routine is objectively good or if it will help anyone else. What I do know is that it works for me, and after years of chasing results and constantly switching methods, I’ve finally found a pattern that I actually enjoy following.
Like many adult improvers, I spent way too much time searching for the “perfect” training method instead of just sticking with something that worked. Sound familiar? We find a system that helps us improve, but then we abandon it for the next shiny approach that promises faster results. I’m guilty of this too—I dropped the Chess Steps method for a couple of years because I thought I could find something better and faster. Spoiler alert: I came crawling back.
The Foundation: Following the 1/3 Rule
My routine is built around GM Noël Studer’s simplified chess improvement plan and the 1/3 rule, which suggests spending roughly equal time on playing games, doing tactics, and learning new concepts. This framework, which I’ve seen versions of from other coaches, gives me structure without being overly rigid. The beauty is that it takes about 60 minutes total per day, but broken into 15-20 minute chunks that fit naturally into my schedule’s natural breaks.
For context, I’m rated around 1500 online but closer to 900 over the board—a gap that tells you everything about what I need to work on. It’s not more chess knowledge that I lack; it’s the confidence and mental strength to apply what I already know when it really counts.
My Daily Chess Menu
Morning Maintenance (5 minutes): I start each day reviewing Silman’s endgame course on Chessable and going through my openings on Chessbook. I’ll admit it—I’m mostly keeping my 1400+ day Chessable streak alive at this point, but those few minutes of endgame review and 10-15 opening moves per day add up. I do this while on my exercise bike, which makes it feel almost effortless. If you haven’t tried Chessbook for openings, it’s fantastic for spaced repetition and automatically highlights your opening mistakes from games.
Mental Training: I follow up with daily meditation using the Calm app. This might seem unrelated to chess, but hear me out. My biggest enemy isn’t tactical blindness—it’s the pressure I put on myself during over-the-board tournaments. I get anxious about the time I’m taking away from family, about justifying the effort, about living up to my own impossible expectations. Meditation helps me recognize that anxiety and stay present. Even if it doesn’t directly improve my chess, it’s making me a more mindful person.
Tactics Work (20-25 minutes): I’m working through the Chess Steps method, currently on step four, completing about one page per day. I write down my solutions before checking answers and aim for 60-80% accuracy. It’s definitely harder than when I started, but that’s the point. This method taught me to think systematically about tactics, and despite my two-year detour trying other approaches, I’m convinced it’s the best foundation for tactical training.
Playing and Analysis: I try to play 3-4 15|10 rapid games a week. I play online using a physical board connected to chess.com—this gives me the over-the-board experience while making it easy to find opponents. After each game, I try to analyze it in a Lichess study, writing down my thoughts and looking for missed opportunities. I’ll be honest: I don’t analyze every game, especially when I’m tilted, but I’m getting more consistent about it.
The Guilty Pleasure: I also play some blitz on my phone—the slowest setting chess.com offers that still counts as blitz. I don’t count this toward improvement time and only allow myself one or two games after completing everything else. It’s pure fun, and I try not to worry about rating at all.
What I’m Not Doing (And Why)
You’ll notice I’m not reading chess books or diving deep into positional theory. That’s intentional. My problem isn’t lack of knowledge—it’s converting knowledge into practical skills. I’m focusing on building habits that strengthen my board vision, pattern recognition, and mental resilience rather than accumulating more information I might not be ready to use effectively.
I am considering adding more annotated game study, not to become a chess expert, but simply to see more games and enjoy greater exposure to beautiful chess. The key word here is “enjoy”—I’m done forcing myself through training methods that feel like drudgery.
The Real Secret: Falling in Love with the Process
Here’s what I’ve learned after years of rating obsession and method-hopping: consistency beats perfection, and enjoying the journey beats optimizing for results. I’ve genuinely started to love my daily routine more than I ever loved seeing my rating climb. There’s something deeply satisfying about the rhythm of daily improvement, about showing up regardless of how yesterday’s games went.
Does this routine guarantee chess improvement? I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that I’m learning, I’m engaged, and I’m having fun with chess in a way I haven’t in years. Some days I solve tactics brilliantly; other days I blunder pieces in time trouble. But I keep showing up, and that consistency has become its own reward.
If you’re struggling to find a routine that sticks, maybe the answer isn’t finding the perfect method—maybe it’s finding the method you can do consistently while actually enjoying yourself. Your routine will probably look different from mine, and that’s exactly as it should be. The best training plan is the one you’ll actually follow.
So whether you’re grinding tactical puzzles, studying master games, or working through endgame positions, remember that the goal isn’t just to get better at chess—it’s to find sustainable joy in the process of learning. Master that, and the chess improvement might just take care of itself.