Wrestling with Willpower

“9, 10, 11.” A deep breath. “12”.

A sigh of relief as the weight falls and clanks around on the floor, exclaiming its temporary defeat. I wipe my brow.

The reps aren’t easy, but they’re straightforward. Willpower channeled directly into moving weight from here to there.

If only everything in life could be this simple. A recurring thought as I click the panic bar on the way out and drive home. The rush of endorphins has me sedated but focused. The Bluetooth finally syncs, but nothing is going to provide the answer I’m looking for today.

In the gym, willpower functions upon bounded tasks. The weight moves or it does not. Feedback is immediate. There is no abstraction or second guessing. It is mechanical. It is honest.

Marketing, people’s emotions, strategy, life decisions work the opposite way. Delayed feedback and often ambiguous outcomes.

I can apply enormous willpower and still have nothing move. Or worse, something moves and I do not know why.

I pull into the driveway, sip my last bit of energy drink, then walk into the garage. I intend to walk straight into the house to make a shake, but am held back by the lure of the surrounding golf clubs. Willpower fading so soon.

“Nice and easy, just hit the center of the face”. First swing. Chunk. I pull another ball from the tray and make the necessary adjustments. The club feels good in my hands. Backswing looks good in the mirror. I setup with intention and swing again with good tempo this time. Thin. The ball barely gets off the ground. My nerves in my hands ring with pain.

I repeat this little masochistic dance with myself until I hit a few good ones. As I drop the club into the bag, I naturally try to apply the scientific method. Why do I think this has happened? What can I potentially to do change it? How can I test it?

“A fool’s game,” I think to myself as I walk in the house.

“Hey, daddy,” says my son who does not care about my frameworks and mental models. They need not apply.

“Hey man, I love you. Did you have a good morning?” I give him a hug and am grounded for the moment.

“Yes sir.” No long monologue from the nine year old. Apparently he’s fortunate enough not to ruminate on existential questions just yet.

I drop into the office chair after I grab a banana and protein shake. I’m stuck and I know it.

Stuckness. Not my body. My mind. It sticks on multiple little decisions and next steps like a maze of tar puddles. I pull from one and get stuck in another.

How should I spend this day to maximize value? Write new social posts, update my website, optimize an ad campaign, pitch a new prospect. The list goes on.

My willpower is there. It’s like a lion waiting to get out of its cage. But I don’t release it. I must have a perfect target first. Time goes by.

The target is the problem. At the gym, my target for success was so clear and right in front of me. But now, I am afraid of what to do next.

Afraid of failure, wasted force, a void in meaning.

I sit there long enough until the necessity of refilling my bank account propels me. I pick the task with the most immediate feedback and the tar loosens. Slightly.

I am suddenly struck by the relationship between what I was able to do at the gym and what I was struggling to do at home. It’s not that willpower does not apply in the abstract, it just needs a surface to push against. When the target is unclear, the correct move is not always optimization, but ignition.

In a maze, only motion will create clarity. Not the other way around.

I stand up. The shake is gone. The day is still imperfect. But it has begun.