Psychology

How Morning Chili Could Be Ruining Your Life

(This post is an adapted version of one I recently posted to Appalachian Trials. If you prefer the PG version I encourage you to head there. If not, you’ve come to the right fucking place.)

Yesterday, I woke up to a crockpot full of steamy-hot, delicious grass-fed beef and bison chili. The night before, I dedicated an hour to chopping and dicing onions, garlic, peppers, and jalapenos- then browning these veggies plus meat, mixing it with my soaked and sprouted black beans, tomatoes, and homemade bone broth. I then set this factory of olfactory orgasmic matter to cook for 10-hours overnight.

Here’s a question- so the fuck what?

Good question. Stay with me here.

My normal morning routine of late has me drinking a half liter of water followed by a tall cup of coffee blended with butter and coconut oil (a concoction called Bulletproof Coffee– it’s delicious, trust me). This routine has served me well for two reasons: 1) it’s a good alternative to breakfast since I almost never wake up hungry and 2) Bulletproof Coffee = (crack + adderall) – meth jitters. This creamy morning goodness gives me laser-sharp focus for the better part of 6 hours without the crash. My productivity of late has been astronomical, allowing me to get more done in a shorter amount of time.

Can you guess what happened when I walked into the kitchen and was immediately punched in the face with the sight and smell of a week’s supply of chili? You guessed it. I gave it a taste test. The taste test turned into manufactured hunger followed by an extra large serving of tortilla-less huevos rancheros.

Again- So. The. Fuck. What?

Finally: the point.

My day’s productivity suffered as a result. Not only was I not even hungry for breakfast, but I inhaled a pregnant panda’s portion of this meal resulting in all of my brain blood flowing to my fat, stupid stomach. I could blame my lack of willpower, but willpower requires a thinking brain, something I do not have prior to ingesting caffeine. The real fault lies with pragmatic Zach- the Zach that is all too aware of the importance of stimulus presentation. My fate was sealed the minute I made the decision to let a bathtub full of chili be the first thing to greet me in the morning. I set the stage for a less than productive day.

This error in a single serving (so to speak) is not a huge deal. After all, my day started with a facegasm and I was able to put in a couple extra hours that night to compensate. Leaving a delicious, ready-to-eat meal on the counter first thing in the morning every day, however, is how bad habits happen. I have made a conscious decision to prioritize productivity, I need to create an environment that supports this, and with morning chili I failed myself.

Morning Chili and Kicking Life’s Ass

What is it that you’re prioritizing?

Are you trying to lose weight?

If so are you staying up late to binge watch House of Cards or are you sending yourself reminders to power down by 9pm so you can get to the gym before work in the morning? Is a jar of cookie butter staring at you every time you open the cupboard or have you donated all your temptations to friends? Have you constructed a set of rules for yourself (e.g. The 4-Hour Body) or are you going wrestle your willpower every time hunger strikes.

Are you trying to increase your productivity?

Are you working 8-5, juggling the barrage of incoming requests (emails, texts, Facebook notifications), or are you consciously constructing a series of tasks ordered from most important to least, closing out all distractions, and working until completion? Upon waking, are you reaching for your phone or setting aside 10 minutes to meditate? Are you making a plan (like this) to improve your efficacy or are you just going to throw more hours of your day to an inefficient system?

Are you trying to kick life’s ass or are you leaving delicious morning chili on the counter?

lead image: via

Redefining Pain

A hundred billion neurons. Ten trillion cells. One hundred trillion bacteria. All of this influenced by an immeasurable number of environmental and biological factors.

Human beings are complex creatures, aren’t they?

If you look through a microscope, perhaps. If you take a step back, however, human behavior can be summarized in one sentence.

We move toward pleasure and away from pain.

In most situations, pain plays a greater role in our motivation. Burning your hand on a hot coal, walking across broken glass, or getting punched in the face with a baseball bat are all painful situations, however this is typically not the kind of pain that influences our behavior. What pain does move us?

It depends on how you define pain. More accurately, it depends on what you choose to believe is painful.

For most, uncertainty is the greatest source of pain. Even if our current situation isn’t ideal- or far from it- we are more likely to continue with the status quo because we can predict the outcome. What lies behind door #2 could be your wildest dreams realized. It could also be humiliation, failure, ridicule. The potential pleasure is overshadowed by this potential pain, so we choose the familiar route, the certain route, the easy route.

What’s the problem with doing what’s easy?

Everything.

We settle. We fail to grow. We lower our own bar. We become a victim of our own limitations.

Worst of all, we lose our edge. When everything is easy, nothing is exciting.

Redefining Pain

The first step for changing this course is to redefine what we interpret as pain.

Which is worse?

[Short term] The rejection that comes from a failed attempt of hitting on the girl at the bar or [Long term] a lifetime of loneliness?

[Short term] The humiliation of not being able to follow through on a publicly stated goal or [Long term] the complete absence of self-confidence?

[Short term] The failure that comes from “unsuccessfully” pursuing an entrepreneurial venture or [Long term] marinating in regret on your deathbed?

When we take a bigger picture look at what’s painful, pain and pleasure change camps. What’s easy becomes hard.

What’s hard becomes easy.

How to Get a Job in Social Media: Let Your Natural Moron Roam Freely

I recently received the below e-mail…

(the names have been changed to protect the innocent- but mostly to make myself laugh)

“Hey Zach,

My name is Cletus Chud and I am a friend of Russel Rambcastle.

Post Appalachian Trail Depression: Advice from Miss Janet

It was July, 24 2011, a group of 20+ hikers huddled around a large picnic table in the backyard of the Happy Hiker’s Hostel in Glencliff, New Hampshire. The night’s menu offered home-cooked meatloaf, grilled corn on the cob, mayonnaise-rich pasta salad, coleslaw, homemade buns lathered in liberal amounts of butter, and of course Miller High Life (obviously). We were shoveling plate after plate of the delicious homemade fare directly into the deepest part of our throats, as if we unlearned the lost art of chewing. A week of consuming only Ramen has that effect on people.

We were fortunate this evening for the home-cooked meal. The typical hostel culture leaves a hiker on his/her own to walk or catch a shuttle to the nearest restaurant; the Happy Hiker Hostel is usually no exception. This evening, however, we were graced with the presence (and culinary skills) of Miss Janet. Miss Janet is an Appalachian Trail celebrity. I remember my first week on the trail, a fellow hiker (who I had never conversed with), came up to me and excitedly said, “did you hear that Miss Janet is hiking the trail this year?!?”

“Are you serious?! … By the way…who is Miss Janet?”

Apparently that was a dumb question (I’m good at those). A legend of the trail (objectively speaking – she is featured in the documentary “Trail Angels”), Miss Janet has been involved with helping AT hikers since she was only 13 years old. Miss Janet’s hostel in Erwin, Tennessee was regarded as arguably the best hiker hostel on the entire AT (in competition with over 60 others). Some hostels are known for their cheap price, some are known for the quality of their setup, Miss Janet’s was known for, well Miss Janet.

That’s why when Miss Janet talks, hikers listen.

Sensory Underload: Ninety Minutes Inside An Isolation Tank

Because 5 months in the woods wasn’t enough to isolate me from the surrounding world, I decided to kick it up a notch.

While on my little walk thingy, I became a big fan of the Joe Rogan Experience podcast. It served as my social fix when I wasn’t in the mood for actual interaction. For those who are unfamiliar, Joe Rogan is a stand up comedian/UFC commentator/host of Fear Factor/Carlos Mencia basher.

One of the many reoccurring theme’s on the podcast is Rogan’s fascination with introspection. In several episodes, he would reference a “sensory deprivation tank” (aka isolation tank/flotation tank) that he had set up in his house. The tank, as Rogan puts it, “is the most important tool that [he’s] ever used for developing [his] mind“. This, coming from someone who is an outspoken proponent of both psychedelic drugs and marijuana.

Naturally my curiosity was piqued.

For those who are unfamiliar (me, as of 3 months ago) an isolation tank is basically a giant metal coffin with about a foot of salt water at the bottom. The water is heated to the same temperature as a human body, eventually resulting in an inability to feel the water. After an individual gets inside and shuts the door behind them, there is only total darkness. Once the water settles, the only sound you can hear is your own breath. Because the water is extremely dense – about 800 lbs. of Epsom salt is dissolved into it – a human body, which is made mostly of water, floats very easily. The theory goes that because there is no sensory input causing distraction to your brain, the mind is left to more freely wander. Beneficial claims include everything from pure rest and relaxation, to improved health and vitality, to being a shortcut toward enlightenment.

Last Lap-itis

I write this from the cement patio floor of a frat house at Dartmouth College. This is completely irrelevant to the proceeding post- but how could I not mention that?

You know that uneasy feeling you get when some significant stage in your life is nearing its conclusion? Maybe you’ve experienced this during your senior year of high school, or college, or before moving to a new city or leaving a job, or the end of a meaningful relationship. You’re still in the midst of it, but once you let your mind wander just a little bit forward in time, you can sense the end. I call this “Last Lap-itis”.

I have a severe case of Last Lap-itis.

The Social Construct of the Appalachian Trail

Lets play a visualization game, shall we?

Close your eyes and envision outer space just moments after the big bang. What do you see? Chaos, right? Some gasses are spinning off in separate directions while others are pulled together due to their gravitational force. That is until another wave of hot gasses ruptures through and breaks the converging mass thus creating a whole new series of smaller sets of gasses as well as other converging masses. The only constant- is change.

Now, replace “hot gasses” with “smelly hikers” and you have accurately grasped the social construct of the Appalachian Trail. Actually, the proper term would be “smelly hiker with hot gasses” (the AT is pretty much a symphony of farts- yes I found it necessary to inform you of that. Blame yourself for ever reading this site).

Prior to departing for the AT, I had imagined the trail to be a cluster of static groups marching north from Springer Mountain, Georgia. And in the early stages of the trail, this is exactly how it worked. Most hikers either come out with another person/multiple people or quickly attach to those within a near proximity, not unlike the way you would make friends on the first day of school. Groups would form to relieve the anxiety of not having to walk through the cold, bare woods by your lonesome. Early on, it wouldn’t be uncommon to witness groups of up to eight people stroll into a campground at a time.

Slowly, however these groups started to break into smaller divisions. The 45 year old school teacher had less in common with the 19 year old stoners than she may have originally considered. Or – the super competitive, army vet wanted to push out big miles while their soon-to-be former hiking companion was slowed due to a series of small nagging injuries. All of a sudden the grouping by proximity philosophy started to prove impermanent.

Soon group dynamics had more to do with common interests and hiking pace. The recent college grads looking to do 22-mile days seemed to find one another. So too did the retirees. Groups of 6-7 now were in clusters of 2-4.

And then eventually, the concept of “group hiking“ breaks down as we know it. Although it’s not unusual for hikers to arrive to a common destination in groups of 2 or 3, the day of the static group is over (with few exceptions, of course).

It is at this point you might hike with the same person for three days, split apart because they needed to stop into town to pick up a mail-drop, only to run into this person two weeks later and resume hiking as if you’ve never separated.

It is at this point you have likely camped underneath the stars by yourself- multiple times.

It is at this point you have likely gone a full day without seeing another human being.

It is at this point in the hike, the AT cliché “hike your own hike” has really taken precedence.

To the reader at home, I understand that the concept of hiking/camping alone for a few days might seem terrifying. I assure you however, that it is not. After a few months of living in the woods, the woods become your mental concept of home. A tree becomes the norm, while a building, road, or artificially scented human being is what stands out as unique. Now, you feel no more uncomfortable walking through the mountains by yourself, as you would have felt sitting on your couch watching TV by yourself just a few months before. We have turned into feral creatures.

But still – you might be thinking, “maybe hiking alone isn’t that bad, but I would still prefer to hike with someone else.” Maybe you would fall into this small subset of people who remain with the same familiar faces. Odds are, however, that you would eventually feel otherwise.

The alternative to “hiking your own hike” is essentially, “to hike someone else’s hike”. This could require forcing big miles in the face of severe fatigue, deviating into the nearest town when you have more than enough supplies to get to the following, or taking it easy on a day where your energy level is screaming 25+ miles. For a few days, or even a few weeks, this compromise may be worth the social security. Remaining with the same person/people for 5-6 months and working around their schedule arouses a level of annoyance meant to be reserved only for those in the institution of marriage. The AT, in large part, is about finding yourself – which is hard to do if you’re living on someone else’s terms.

Collectively, what the social dynamics have evolved into, is a community of independent spirits. Often we are still pack creatures enjoying each others company, but our long-term loyalties are tied only to ourselves.

Finding peace in times of solidarity, I believe, is one of the true benefits of this journey.

Rolling With The Rocks: Learning Lessons From the Trail

It was early February of this very same year. My mom, along with one of her long time friends, had come to visit me in San Diego.

Over lunch, we began discussing my upcoming, seemingly insane adventure of an entirely inexperienced camper going into the woods for a half year backpacking trip- covering the length of the East Coast.

My mom’s friend asked how I thought I would respond to the trail’s more challenging moments. A very fair question, and one I had spent the previous two months wondering myself.

Quickly my mom interjected, “you know Zach, if you end up hating it, there’s no shame in leaving the trail early. There’s no good reason to force something you don’t enjoy upon yourself.”

At this point in my life, any response other than the one I had just received from my mom would have been a major surprise. She wants nothing more than for her kids to be happy, comfortable, and above all, safe.

That’s why I knew my response to her would cause alarm.

“You know what the weird thing about this trip is? I hope parts of it suck…I hope parts of it suck beyond belief. If I come out of this without any struggle- I don’t think I will have received the full experience. I will have missed an opportunity for growth. To answer your question I look forward to the trail’s challenges.

Fast forward to June 17, 2011

The day began with stiff joints and sore muscles. Not uncommon following a 27 mile day, especially one covering some of the rockiest terrain experienced on trail thus far. Fourteen hours of backpacking doesn’t exactly leave much energy in the tank for the necessary stretching or care taking. Upon rising I was immediately paying the consequences. As I sat up in the crowded, mini-shelter (known to be the home of a nearby Copperhead Snake as mentioned in the trail register), the swollen feet pain was immediately met by the realization that I had scheduled another 24 miles for myself today. ShitFuck.

As is usually the case- a few miles of walking tends to numb any sort of pain you were experiencing to start the day. Today was no exception. I’m no doctor, but I’m guessing that the human body eventually gives up on sending pain signals once it realizes the individual is too stubborn to alter their behavior accordingly.

Before leaving the day’s first resting point- we note that the next spot to get water is 12 miles away. This span- would involve 85 degrees of direct sunlight and what appeared in our guide book to be a pretty serious climb- at least by Pennsylvania’s standards. I load my pack up with 4 liters of water (almost 9 extra lbs) to prepare for the upcoming stretch.

Upon crossing Lehigh river it was quickly apparent that this climb was not only steep and into a looming dark sky, but the terrain was a sheer rock face, rendering my hiking poles useless.

(the iPhone wordpress app doesn’t allow me to rotate an image. Get your shit together wordpress)

Much of the ascent was so intense that I had to throw my poles ahead of me because climbing required the use of all four limbs. A misstep or faulty rock meant a steep fall and a very bloody Badger. Add 40 lbs onto my back and a heightened state of alertness became an involuntary response.

To my surprise, I summit the mountain without breaking my face open. Because this particular stretch is so rocky- there are very few tress to obscure my view of the awesome lightning storm happening to the mountain range just to the west. I just hoped it was moving in any direction other than towards me.

I wasn’t so lucky.

As the lightning storm moved closer to me – and my metal hiking poles – my pace began to increase. It wasn’t until I hit the rocky descent that the rain and lightning really intensified. Perspective was gained that what I did on the way up the mountain was more challenging than it was dangerous. Now I was hopping from wet, jagged boulder to wet, jagged boulder with lightning striking in all directions of me. This was more dangerous than challenging- and still very challenging.

Before I know it- I’ve reached the gap (the bottom of the mountain). The whole experience was so intense it felt like it couldn’t have lasted longer than 30-45 minutes. In reality- I had just covered 5 miles- in just over two hours. Apparently time flies when you’re about to die.

….

This is just one challenging day of many in the recent past.

Add to the above that I’ve been battling pretty severe headaches for over a week (enough so that I made a hospital visit to be tested for Lyme Disease) – a near constant battle with Mosquitos, ticks, and gnats, and a brutal heat wave – and, well…

I got what I was asking for.

This stretch has “sucked beyond belief”.

Well, at least, it should have sucked beyond belief.

Despite all of the elements going against what would be considered “perfect”- I’ve managed to keep a clear, appreciative mind-state (at least relatively so).

I’m learning to roll with the punches- whether the punches be rocks, lightning, dehydration, or parasites. The woods have a way of keeping perspective. A perspective that life will deal to you what it will – it’s up to you to decide how these elements are perceived.

I perceive a life of walking in the woods. What more could I ask for?

Point/Counter-Point: Anxiety vs. Adventure ft. The Dusty Camel

For those who read the Good Badger regularly, you’ve probably noticed that I deal a good amount of grief to my poor, poor, Jewish mother. On top of the constant state of near self-defecation I have placed upon her with my upcoming journey, I also take every opportunity I get to take jabs at her highly anxious nature (see: the first part of this very same sentence).

Well, a little known fact about coming from someone else’s insides, is you tend to take some of their DNA with you in the process (I was a biology professor in another lifetime). As much as I try to deny it, I have acquired many of the same high-alert qualities from my poor, poor, Jewish mother. My playful jabs at her are 1) my sick way of expressing love and 2) what Freud refers to as “projection”.

I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to dull the over-active flight or flight response portion of my brain. If 2,200 miles of disease, bears, and snow/lightning storms doesn’t finally finish the job, there’s no hope for me.

That’s why I’m very excited to have my friend, Ian Mangiardi, help co-author this post. Ian is the founder of The Dusty Camel (the Good Badger’s trail posts will be syndicated here), a website dedicated to all-things backpacking with an emphasis on gear reviews. Ian has also successfully thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, and is preparing for his 2011 trek up the Pacific Crest Trail. Ian is a true adventurer.

For the last few weeks, Ian and I have been exchanging e-mails in where he is saddled with the task of repeatedly talking me off of AT ledge. Instead of hoarding all of his wisdom to myself, we agreed to make this discourse more public.

How To Accomplish Anything: The 2011 New Year’s Resolution Edition

Accomplishing anything can be achieved in one simple step.

I normally charge people $9,995.00 to obtain this ancient skill, but because it’s the holiday season, and the Apple Store was all out of iPads, I will give you this instead. I hope you like it (no 3G coverage, sorry).

The Only Secret You Need to Accomplish Anything

1) Stop telling yourself, “you can’t”.

That’s it. You can now do anything.

See you in 2011!

……..

(Perhaps I’ll elaborate a bit) Read more →

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Morning Chili and Kicking Life’s Ass

Redefining Pain

“Hey Zach,

Fast forward to June 17, 2011

The Only Secret You Need to Accomplish Anything