Skip to main content

Mental see-saw.

I don't really have a good sense of moderation. I never have. It's something I struggle with, I guess. And it seems like it shouldn't be such a problem since balance is one of those tenets I try to base my life around. I guess I have trouble with moderation because I also have trouble with balance.

These things are difficult.

But it's not so much a difficulty exhibiting moderation with vices--drinking, smoking, gambling, womanizing, thievery, leaving toilet seats up, etc.--as it is a difficulty exhibiting moderation in a reflexive sense. It's something I notice most often, and ignore, when I do something that requires physical strain. Like athletics, competitive or otherwise. Most people seem to have a dimmer switch of intensity, where they can appropriately adjust the output of their intensity in response to factors both environmental and personal. They generally never push themselves beyond capacity unless they truly have to, and they make sure to mellow out to avoid unnecessary exertion or injury.

Which is totally stupid, I guess.

I have a switch with two functions: mellow and maximum intensity. I don't want to settle for trying pretty hard. I won't. Unless I, you know, don't care. But it's that switch that makes me try to sprint up Enchanted Rock. Even if I'm dragging my limp, exhausted body up to the top I'll be doing it as fast and as hard as I can. It makes me sprint up the hill that's too steep for my bike. It makes me sprint and make hard stops and turns even after my knee is worn down to the bones until the game is done. It drives me forward regardless of the personal cost.

I feel like that's a good thing. It's a good thing to do. I mean, why wouldn't you do something at your maximum ability? It's such a waste.

Comments

Carolynn said…
I feel like I'm always on "FUCKIN INTENSE AS HEEEECK" and "Jesus Christ I don't even care anymore." It is my cross to bear I guess.

Popular posts from this blog

Pseudo-science (like psych).

I consider myself a man of science. I try to approach problems and deal with them logically, using observations previously recorded to handle new problems. So of course my interest was piqued when someone I knew posited that men are needier and more complicated than women. An interesting theory. But to properly examine it, one must understand the concept of sexual selection and its two aspects: male competition and female choice. Which brings us to point one: men are needier [in relationships] than women. This is true. In a natural/primal setting, the males are generally love-'em-leave-'em kinds of guys. Their main objective is to reproduce as much as they can. Humans, in their infinite wisdom, have decreased the emphasis on this to the point where it has become a footnote in male purpose. Civilization dictates that, instead of finding a partner for the sole purpose of reproduction, males find females for life companionship. With the effective removal of their natur...

I'm a geologist, not an alcoholic.

I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty. Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana , a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish , the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam , sidescan , and grab sampler --getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening. And then, drinking. So much ...

What the fuck am I looking at.

Today, I went to the gym and found something new. I found a room with pads on the floor and walls. A room with a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. It was like walking into a dream come true. It was exactly what I had been looking for for months. For years , even. And I attacked that bag. I'll be spending a lot of time there, I think. I have been in such an inexplicably good mood these last few days. I don't know what the deal is. Maybe it's because I've been eating so many bananas. It's probably because things are going pretty well and I'm just feeling good. Doing nice things, feeling confident. Good things. And most importantly, I'm feeling less tired. Maybe it was a diet change. Maybe it's all the exercise. I will probably never know, but that doesn't bother me.