Enduring happiness
I’m willing to bet some of your happiest moments have been birthed from the feeling of enduring tough and often unpleasant situations. In the moments after you’ve overcome a substantial threat or obstacle. In the utter triumph of surviving. And in our modern era, when the risk of starving or becoming someone or something’s dinner is far from the typical threat, the opportunity to “overcome” needs our attention.
I’ve camped in sub-zero temperatures for weeks in the Boreal forests of Alberta, relying on my dog to curl up at the base of the sleeping bag for heat while the wind cut through the canvas tent as though it were silk. It was pure misery when the last bit of the wood would vanish from the tiny stove, leaving me to concede defeat and leave behind that small bit of warmth I had created in my cocoon to go stoke the fire. Yet, when the last days of the trip brought that experience to a close, and I returned home to a warm house with a full fridge, the unpleasantness of the long nights would immediately fade and all that remained was a feeling of wanting to go back and do it again.
How is it that amongst the countless hours of “fuck this shit I am so cold/ tired/ wet I want to die” there is a deep sense of joy? There is power in the realization that you are, indeed, the type of person who survives. Biologically, we are geared for it, but our modern lives have turned us into doubters— we feel too far removed from regular encounters with true survival that we worry it may not be “like riding a bike”. We wonder if we’ve grown too accustomed to creature comforts to be able to let go of them, even temporarily.
It’s not easy to explain this feeling— you’ll either nod emphatically through this article and recall your own victories over the elements and your psyche, or you will need to pack a bag and get outside at the earliest opportunity so you can get a taste of it first hand. There is simply no way to test and conquer limits in the comfort zone. And so, I want to offer you a reminder of the joy you’ve experienced when you’ve challenged your limits so you’ll make a concerted effort to book your next trip, your next hunt, your next hike, your next test.
Happiness is a funny thing, sometimes it takes a visit to the edge of comfort (or even a trip into pure discomfort) to heighten the contrast of the pleasures of life. Transient sorrows that morph into enlightened pleasure.
How beautiful that the rule that best sums up this pain/pleasure paradox is also similar to the title of my blog (the6040rule.com). Jesse Iztler’s experience living with David Goggins, Navy SEAL, has taught us that when your mind is throwing in the towel you are really only operating at 40% of your capacity. It’s called “The 40% Rule”.
We leave a lot of our potential in reserves. Perhaps this is an evolutionary tactic to keep us alive by helping to conserve energy or protect us from injury. But more likely in today’s society, it’s something that can hold you back from elevating your performance. Even as I write this I think back to last weekend’s FTP test (which, by the way, I swear I’m never going to do again every time I do them). I stole a 30-second rest four minutes from the end of the test. This goes against the rules and best practices of course, where you are supposed to crank out an all-out effort, increasing force all the way to the end of the trial. Was my heart actually going to explode or did I just let myself think it was? I’d say in hindsight it was the latter, but in the moment my mind truly had me believing that without a break I would experience sudden cardiac arrest. Great opportunity to up my mental game next time.
What possibilities exist when you push past that difficult mental block and explore the remaining 60% of your capabilities? I will never grow tired of learning about all the ways humans have found a way to exist in environments and situations that are on the outer edges of our normal existence. From freediving past 100 meters, to surviving an hour-long icebath, to solo climbing the Yosemite triple crown. We are truly a remarkable species for our ability to adapt and survive.
I’m incredibly inspired, not by the people who peak at 16, but those who refine and consistently master their activities until they are their best selves at age 50, or 60, or beyond. It shows a commitment to continuous boundary exploration. These are the type of folks that wouldn’t be caught dead at a party reciting their high school track records from more than a lifetime ago. They simply get out and see what’s possible, year after year, oftentimes without accolades or an external mode of validation. I really respect those folks.
Being confined to a more limited range of places and activities over the last year has really made me reflect on happiness. It’s been a year where the only limits I’ve been testing are the number of hours I can cram into a day of work. I’m deeply craving an adventure, exploration, and pushing myself physically rather than mentally. I think the takeaway is that if a weekend comes along where I can get into the backcountry I’m going to jump at the opportunity— rain or shine, short notice, no matter how far the drive.
