Staying power

I used to think I had built up a fair amount of mental endurance. A guy named Jeff broke me this week.

No, we weren’t riding bikes, I was listening to lectures/classes. 8 to 5 went the schedule and it was suppose to go on for 3 days straight.

For normal people this wouldn’t be a problem, and indeed the other attendees did not seem to be struggling much. But I was getting killed. I couldn’t take it. For a while I tried to view it simply as a challenge — like I was riding a particularly nasty section of head wind infested, washboarded dirt road in Wyoming. But it didn’t work, the injuries to my system were too great, the discomfort too much. In short, it drained the life out of me like no bumpy dirt road could ever hope to.

There’s a reason I don’t have a real job. I like to manage my time. I never want to work a 40+ hour job, especially with rigid hours.

But there is also a certain freedom in having your time taken up from 8 to 5. Although I’d like to think it was just a mental thing, I couldn’t help but notice how much I enjoyed being home, doing what I wanted to instead of listening to hour after hour of boring talk. “Pleasure from the lack of pain,” perhaps. But it was a very real, visceral feeling. The music vibrating from my speakers sounded better. I focused on it and told myself “it’s the same music,” but it wasn’t. Even after I recognized the mental trick I was playing on myself, it still sounded better.

I know I also enjoyed it more because I knew I should be doing whatever I wanted with my time (instead of perhaps, working on something else). My limit of “work” had been exceeded, so there was no question.

But it’s still interesting that the experience was enhanced. My ride this morning — just a basic suburban assault — was likewise enhanced. Anything was better than rotting away at the meeting, but in comparison riding my bike outside was nirvana. It’s relative.

So the question presents itself. If experience of free time, recreation, whatever is truly enhanced by relative comparison to the rest of your life, is it better to have an unpleasant “regular” life? (Given that our ultimate goal is to enjoy our lives to the fullest). Is this why so many people have unpleasant lives? Is this why we work 8 to 5?

I don’t think so, but it’s interesting to observe and think about. I don’t pretend to have any answers.

My hands are getting better by the day, and real mountain biking is so close I can taste it. Yet more psychology happening here. I’ve been deprived of it so long that the first few rides (and the ones I’ve done so far) will be bliss.

I’m waiting for a call from E. Schlimmer, currently battling it out on the Arizona Trail. I’m going to make a multi-day trip of riding out to meet him and take him through one of the sketchy sections of the trail. I really can’t wait for him to call.