I myself do my best to be a slacker in any part of life in which I can afford to be. Sacrificing this and hurting that I leave to enthusiasts into those things, which includes a younger me, but definitely not the current me. For current me, enjoying life every minute is very important, and this includes setting my own pace whenever possible.
With lifting weights, for example, I do not push for increased endurance or bigger muscles--staying mildly toned is all I ask for. Running is also great, but I'll do the power walk, thank you.
Likewise, going army sergeant on myself about writing, and pushing myself through stiff necks and bleary eyes in the name of appeasing the astral phallus of some grim writerly god, is something I no longer feel the need for.
Important caveat: I felt the need for that when I was starting out, and perhaps doing all that back then helped me develop as a writer. Park your ass and give me twenty! Pages! Maggot!
But after a certain point I prefer to switch to cruise, with everything, not just writing. Given the choice between manically focusing on one thing and slackingly poking at five things, these days I tend to chose the latter. I reach the level I'm comfortable with at doing X, and then just stay there, while perhaps branching out into Y. Which not only allows to have a more tension-free existence, but also, IMO, brings other benefits. When you are passably good at more than one thing, the different parts of the mind that develop doing those number of things, then combine into
Captain Metaphysics an individual mental porridge which you and no one else or almost no one else has, not to this precise degree, so this allows for some mild innovation to happen naturally, without pressure, in your chosen fields, in spite of you not being a total master of them.
In writing, as in the other arts and crafts, I think it's very important to be able, after the initial months or years of getting the hang of the basics, to figure out what your natural aptitudes are, and what your natural style is. Often enough those will not overlap completely with your tastes as a consumer of the same art or craft, but this is where the road forks. Go down one branch--and you follow the path of least resistance and produce the best you can at the lowest cost to yourself. Go down the other branch--and you commit to inhuman* efforts of fighting every inch of the way, trying to maintain a passable imitation of something that does not come naturally to you. And here I think the issue of speed also comes into play. One's natural style will likely lead to faster written stuff**.
There are writers and musicians and painters and directors who have succeeded in both--either by following their natural styles, or by choosing to subjugate them to a different vision. Of course, sometimes one realizes that one's natural style shall not produce a hit (as some natural styles do), but rather promises to be a complete commercial failure, and if one sticks with it one will at best become a cult writer or musician, mildly appreciated by eight Brazilian weirdos and one eccentric Slovak, and if one is not content with that (although why not, with a day job?) and wants more, then one has no choice but to try and enhance one's natural style with some artificial additives that make life much more difficult, but may expand the fan base.
Thus the natural style and the unnatural style are more ideal categories than anything else, and the degree of actual overlap is what decides where one stands. Being the current slacker that I am, I definitely stand at the 'least resistance' end of the spectrum, which, among other things, allows me to write slightly faster than otherwise.
_____
*Or at least "inhumane".
**Which in my slackerly case is "very, very slow" as opposed to "impossibly, nerve-grindingly slow".