Energy, efficiency and excellence

Energy, efficiency and excellence

On knowing and practicing your art.

As the heavy axe fell and twisted sideways in the dried dead core of the fallen log I mused at how rusty my axe-swinging skills were.  I was clearing some deadfall from the trails behind my house. The head refused to bite where I aimed the blow, twisted in my hand and skittered in the notch.  I was sweating and exerting undo energy in the effort.  My axe was dull.  I was making up for unpracticed discipline by swinging harder, instead of letting the axe do the work.

I’m no neophyte with the swinging of axes.  My father taught me how to balance and aim an axe to best effect.  I’ve felled many trees and chopped many cord of firewood in my day.  I’m a decent woodsman. It struck me a funny one day at work when a coworker said he was going to rent a chainsaw to clear some trees…what? You don’t own a chainsaw? Huh.

Even with my relative amateur abilities at axe swinging I bet with a few weeks of practice and a bit of sharpening of the axe and my skills I could double my effectiveness.  Even so, I bet there are professional woodsmen who swing the axe everyday for their livelihood who could make a mockery of my efforts.

And that’s how it is with everything.  With running, with biking with swimming.  With work.  With everything. There are levels of excellence.  This excellence only comes when practice, combines with skill and is infused with energy.

Most of our journeys in sports begin with effort.  The coach remarks; “The boy really hustles…” He means that regardless of skill, energy can cover up many shortcomings.  The first step in our sports journey begins with energy.

After energy comes skill.

When I go out mountain bike riding with my friends who are good at it they flow over the land.  They use the downs to power the ups.   They roll through the obstacles without braking or losing momentum.  I always have to recover and pedal harder to keep up.  I am spending 30-40% more energy because I am not as skilled as they are.

When I ride with the group on the road it is the same thing. I’m see-sawing in and out of the pack, alternately braking and pedaling to close the gap.  I lack the skill.

Skill is both given and attained.  Some lucky folks are born with the prewired ability to do something, to be good at it. Any of us can rise to a new level of proficiency in anything by practice.  Practice leads to mastery.  But few are gifted.

The truly gifted, the fortunate few among us find that thing they were born to do and spend their lives in practice of it.  Then when the time comes they can apply energy with such an artful presence that sport becomes art.

Energy.  Efficiency.  Excellence.  In that order.  Work.  Practice.  Art. In that order.

Perhaps if you lined me up next to that grizzled, pot-bellied professional woodsman, you might say I am more fit, but he would humiliate me in his art.  The chips would fall where they may and I would not be able to keep up.

You and I may never find our art.  You and I may not be the fortunate that were born to a sport.  But you and I can still bring effort and practice to the thing and become proficient enough to sense the art in it.  That my friends I deem a worthwhile life choice.