I find that I don’t enjoy challenges. I experience no pleasure from being frustrated with a puzzle or struggling against my physical limits. So what do I have to enjoy, devoid of this supposedly essential source of pleasure? I have humor, and stories, and art, and friends, and food, and snuggling in bed because I don’t have to get up yet, and ridiculous wordplay (in the broadest sense) when I’m a little loopy and find repeating the phrase “cherry tart” amusing. Pretty sure I am not a wirehead.
The exciting thing about snowboarding isn’t the challenge [edit of learning to snowboard] it’s being able to do air time with little effort or at least I think so.
The exciting thing about snowboarding isn’t the challenge it’s being able to do air time with little effort or at least I think so.
The appeal to me is based on engineering intuitions. Skis, seriously? Hook up a great big lever to apply torque to a single joint that is not intended to twist that way at all? Something seems wrong when I do that.
I’m not sure, but I think skis were designed for moving across mountainous terrain. I find the whole idea of “cross country snowboard” somewhat absurd, but have seen alpine troops chasing each other down on skis in WW2 documentaries.
Your concept of “challenge” might be too narrow. I know you learn now skills and solve problems. I expect you feel proud when a hard-to-make meal comes out well, or when you’ve kicked the red dragon’s ass and are looting the magic items.
Alternately, maybe you desire to self-modify to enjoy challenge.
I am pleased when I pull off a tricky meal, but I do not attempt astounding feats of molecular gastronomy even if great effort could allow me to accomplish them, and I was also pleased today when I made a simple soup I’ve made often before and it turned out delicious. I enjoy D&D, including the parts where one slays color-coded evil dragons, but one of my DMs recently skipped over a week of time and gave us some treasure and a new level without us having to actually roll dice to kill the giant centipedes we were going to deal with originally, and I think my new level and my shiny new swag are about as pleasing to have as they would have been if I’d experienced the deaths of fictional giant centipedes in more detail.
I find that I don’t enjoy challenges. I experience no pleasure from being frustrated with a puzzle or struggling against my physical limits. So what do I have to enjoy, devoid of this supposedly essential source of pleasure? I have humor, and stories, and art, and friends, and food, and snuggling in bed because I don’t have to get up yet, and ridiculous wordplay (in the broadest sense) when I’m a little loopy and find repeating the phrase “cherry tart” amusing. Pretty sure I am not a wirehead.
The exciting thing about snowboarding isn’t the challenge [edit of learning to snowboard] it’s being able to do air time with little effort or at least I think so.
The appeal to me is based on engineering intuitions. Skis, seriously? Hook up a great big lever to apply torque to a single joint that is not intended to twist that way at all? Something seems wrong when I do that.
I’m not sure, but I think skis were designed for moving across mountainous terrain. I find the whole idea of “cross country snowboard” somewhat absurd, but have seen alpine troops chasing each other down on skis in WW2 documentaries.
Your concept of “challenge” might be too narrow. I know you learn now skills and solve problems. I expect you feel proud when a hard-to-make meal comes out well, or when you’ve kicked the red dragon’s ass and are looting the magic items.
Alternately, maybe you desire to self-modify to enjoy challenge.
I am pleased when I pull off a tricky meal, but I do not attempt astounding feats of molecular gastronomy even if great effort could allow me to accomplish them, and I was also pleased today when I made a simple soup I’ve made often before and it turned out delicious. I enjoy D&D, including the parts where one slays color-coded evil dragons, but one of my DMs recently skipped over a week of time and gave us some treasure and a new level without us having to actually roll dice to kill the giant centipedes we were going to deal with originally, and I think my new level and my shiny new swag are about as pleasing to have as they would have been if I’d experienced the deaths of fictional giant centipedes in more detail.