I used to feel really strongly about this. You get good at what you do. Like, if you build websites all the time, you get good at building websites. If you make burritos all the time, you get good at making burritos.
It could extend to almost anything. Healthy places that fit into the logical narrative you already know, like if you lift weights to the point of exhausting your limits a lot, you’ll get stronger. But also silly and unhealthy situations. Like, if you sit on your ass and watch TV all day, you get good at sitting on your ass and watching TV all day. Your body and mind will tolerate it well. You’ll know how to operate the remote well. You’ll know what you want to watch and when.
I have some doubts, though.
In the ~9 years I’ve lived in Bend, Oregon, I’ve gone skiing ~100 times. I do not think I’m any better at skiing in my 100th time than I was when I moved here. Maybe like, a little? But I’m not entirely sure. Could be worse. I do it, and I don’t get better at it. I want to get better like I want to like seafood. It’s aspirational, it’s just not happening.
I’m sure most people get very good after skiing 100 times. I’m just a weirdo. Yes, I’m getting older. Yes, I could be healthier. I’m not sure that’s the entire math here.
I think I’m uniquely bad at skiing because I do not like going fast. I don’t like going fast in cars. I don’t like going fast on a bike. I don’t like going fast… ever. I get this extreme discomfort really quickly. So I’m constantly fighting to slow down, which just isn’t very enjoyable and doesn’t lead to the breezy flow state I see most people in.
There’s like a speed threshold: if you’re comfortable there, that’s a super normal speed to travel down a hill and get into that breezy flow state where it’s fun, and you feel safe. If you’ve got this higher-speed tolerance, a much wider zone of fun opens up. Whereas I have this narrow sliver I can enjoy, and precious few runs that offer that kind of experience.
I’m gonna keep doing it, but just because I want my daughter to be super comfortable skiing, because it’s quite a cool lifelong hobby.
I believe it’s difficult to quantify our own experience level in something. Like if you’ve been working somewhere and technically become really good at it, you can still feel imposter syndrome about it. Because you’ve been witnessing yourself grow and subconsciously take in knowledge, but you still feel like the same person. You almost need others as a gauge for if you actually are an expert at something.
I’ve had a similar thought for years on something that’s adjacent. There are just certain things that it’s difficult to refer to yourself as, such as calling yourself humble. Doing so is sort of anti-humbling. But if someone else says that of you, it comes across better.
Not to say we don’t all strive to be things we see as positive. But for being an expert, they also say about learning that we’ll always realize there’s more to learn. We may know more over time, but the amount we don’t know seems to explode. It’s daunting and hard to imagine ourselves ever being happy to be called a true expert in this mental state.
Well, and there’s sometimes fear of change… I’m likewise afraid of going fast, so my wall for being an expert at skiing is probably as DOA as the physical wall or tree I’d fear hitting if I did go too fast.
feels related to the concept of “deliberate practice.” imo putting hours into something is generally necessary but not sufficient for continued improvement. I think it’s really common to reach a plateau and not get much further than that regardless of how much time you spend doing something… I felt this a lot with clarinet (I played a bunch in high school and a decent amount in college) even though I was trying to be deliberate. long story short after that whole thing I kinda feel like continually improving at something is actually really freaking hard haha