The real sting here is that Aristotle isn't celebrating excellence as something you achieve once and then rest upon—he's insisting excellence is exhausting, because it requires constant, unglamorous repetition. We tend to think of quality as a destination (the perfect project, the polished performance), but he's saying it's the small, daily choices that compound: the editor who reads every sentence twice, the cook who tastes before serving, the parent who listens fully even when tired. This explains why someone mediocre at their craft can't suddenly produce brilliance, and why the master craftsman's excellence feels almost invisible—it's simply what they do.