Related to: Make an Extraordinary Effort, On Doing the Impossible, Shut up and do the impossible!, Humans are not automatically strategic.

http://theferrett.livejournal.com/1587858.html

Excerpt:

We live in a culture so bound by what most people are willing to do that we often take them as hard limits - "I can't do more than that," we say. "I've done the best I can." But it really isn't. It's just the best we're willing to do for right then.

When I was running and got my side-stitch, I really thought that I'd put 100% into it. But the truth was that I hated running, and I hated exercise, and I was putting maybe 20% of myself into it. If I was being chased by a bear, suddenly I'd find new reserves within me. And though I hated math homework, and thought that the grudging half an hour I did was really balls-out for math homework, I'd forget how many hours I'd spend memorizing PAC-Man patterns.

After that, I realized where my real limits were - they were way up there. And maybe I could stop telling myself and others that I did my best. I didn't. Not even close. I did what I thought was reasonable.

Sometimes you don't want reasonable.

The thing about it is that you don't have to feel guilty about not giving it your all, all the time. That'd be crazy. If you started panning your friends to see the latest Rush concert, you'd be a mooch. But what's important is not to conflate "a reasonable effort" as the top end. Be honest. Know what percentage you're actually willing to give, and acknowledge that if it was that critical, you could do a lot of other, very creative, things to solve this problem. I don't ask you guys for money because I find it distasteful - but when my sister-in-law's life was at stake and I didn't have the cash, you bet your ass I begged.

Recommend reading the whole thing.

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When I shared this post on Facebook, I got linked to an article about a biker who quite literally drives himself crazy in order to win races.

Around Day 2 of a typical weeklong race, his speech goes staccato. By Day 3, he is belligerent and sometimes paranoid. His short-term memory vanishes, and he weeps uncontrollably. The last days are marked by hallucinations: bears, wolves and aliens prowl the roadside; asphalt cracks rearrange themselves into coded messages. Occasionally, Robic leaps from his bike to square off with shadowy figures that turn out to be mailboxes. In a 2004 race, he turned to see himself pursued by a howling band of black-bearded men on horseback.

‘‘Mujahedeen, shooting at me,’’ he explains. ‘‘So I ride faster.’’

I guess you can't say you're putting in your best effort if you still remain sane during the race.

(Of course, trying to truly put in your best effort may sometimes be counterproductive, if you don't know the right way to do it. I'm reminded of the times when I figured I needed to study a lot, so I'd stay at home to do it for days on end. The end result was that I felt miserable and didn't get much studying done. If I'd allowed myself to go out and see people once every two days or so, I'd probably have been more productive than when trying to work full time.)

Was this guy abusing stimulants during his races? The symptoms certainly indicate an overloaded dopamine system.

If I'd allowed myself to go out and see people once every two days or so, I'd probably have been more productive than when trying to work full time.)

Probably. The most successful diet-control routine I ever operated on included a scheduled monthly Indulgence, in which I went out for dinner with friends and ate whatever the hell I wanted.

An aspect of procrastination worth being aware of.