Going A Year Without Sports
An experiment in self-awareness, self-restraint, and self-improvement in an attempt to rewire my pandemic brain
Introduction
Almost a decade ago, I sat relaxed on the back deck of a Baltimore rowhouse with two best friends discussing the future. We were under the influence, listening to Steely Dan, and imagining what’s next — careers, marriages, and big moves ahead.
The conversation cracked some shell, shedding light on the seed inside — a craving for something. I could tell that an idea was about to surface.
In my mid-20s a few years into workforce membership, I fostered a desire for change in both scenery and circumstance, something deemed drastic but not completely out of your mind foolish. An adventure landing somewhere on the scale between hiking a mountain and joining The Peace Corps.
Thanks to forces both known and unknown, a year or so later I accepted an offer to join a consulting firm in Austin, Texas. I lived in Central Texas for two years, obliterating my existing comfort zone and learning hard lessons in the process.
Flash forward to the present day and I’ve uprooted once again, this time to Massachusetts at the urging of my then-fiance, now-wife, a New England native. The pandemic converted our 1,200 square foot apartment into an office for several hours each weekday — now going on 15 months.
We added a soon-to-be large dog because a shedding roommate was irresistible (good thing he’s cute). Pic for attention.
But recently, even with a move, a wedding, and a dog, that familiar feeling has yet again returned — the urge to do something extreme, out of the ordinary, and beneficial in the long run despite the amount of sacrifice it will require.
So, what is it?
What I’m envisioning is an exercise to rewire the brain; a mental disrupter. I need to untangle a tight web of repetitive action and insert something new.
My challenge
To give up the consumption of sports entertainment — by TV, app, and computer — for a calendar year, and using that time to learn a new skill.
My background in sport goes back almost 30 years to when I first learned to skate. Ice hockey is in my blood, and even seeing the two words together makes me happy.
Then came lacrosse, football, soccer, baseball, basketball, bowling, darts, horseshoes, tennis, swimming, horseracing, and car racing — all played and watched for hours and hours with family and friends from as far back as I can remember to the present day. What began as building coordination, physical activity, and socializing evolved into excellence and competition. Supporting a specific team feeds some primal urge to be part of a strong tribe.
The concept left to prove runs deep.
And in the last 12+ months, the daily, weekly, monthly, and quarterly consumption of sport has reached a critical level. Sport is healthy as compared to the majority of mindless programming on TV and streaming, but too much of anything can lead to unintended consequences.
2020 disruptions excluded, absorbing sports entertainment is preset yearly. I know what to expect — September pennant races, October playoff baseball, fall/winter football two to four days each week, The Masters, March Madness, hockey playoffs every day in the spring, free agency, draft lotteries, and entry drafts until it starts all up again. The same games with new storylines keep us coming back for more.
In response, I’m conducting a year-long experiment to mitigate what I perceive to be a growing problem, rewiring my brain to learn something new. The journey begins next week after the 2021 Stanley Cup Finals in July. When that Cup is lifted, I’ll watch the entire ceremony like I always do, then turn off the TV, delete the apps from my phone, disconnect subscriptions to services and periodicals, and bid adieu to the sport for a year.
Why Sports?
Sports, at both the professional and amateur levels, bring out the best and worst in us. As fans and players, we ride the highs and lows in the blink of an eye. That inherent tension looped on a yearly cycle helps teach the brain to chase championship bliss — an event that statistically is not likely to happen. Though sometimes it does.
I’ve never been addicted to any physical substance. I’m not addicted to video games or pornography. Tobacco products hold no place in my life. But I recognize that my extracurricular habits mimic the behavior of someone suffering from addiction:
- Prioritizing the activity over everything else; sometimes scheming or manipulating others into decisions based on my own thoughts and intended actions. Feeling very little guilt for such actions because of end result (desired reward).
- Intentional overconsumption despite my own thoughts of restraint or insisting from others.
- Outbursts of extreme joy countered by bouts of extreme sadness or anger as a result of such an activity. Inevitably returning for more.
- Spending excess cash to support the activity or habit despite thoughts of restraint and perceived regret.
- Justifying the behavior because “others are doing it” and “there are worse things in the world.”
- The activity is a gateway to additional vices that compound the same habit-forming tendencies, some with an even lower floor.
This list goes on and on. Number six refers primarily to gambling. I’m not a gambler in the same way someone drinking beer knows better than to switch to liquor; or pills to heroin, though the upside temptation is always there. Likewise, I retired from fantasy sports in 2016 — the first phase of this entire plan.
“…an exercise to rewire the brain; a mental disrupter. I need to untangle a tight web of repetitive action and insert something new.”
How much time are we talking here? How much television watching, article reading, live game-attending, and Podcast listening can one person consume in a given week? Well, a rough estimate goes — three hours podcasts daily; two hours television watching; one hour reading. Six to seven hours each day spread out from wake to sleep.
What will I do with all that time? That’s the exciting part — the joyful distraction accompanying the inevitable pain and annoyance that boils over when changing any deep-rooted habit. Daily reading and writing will go on, taking a larger slice of the overall pie. The joy comes from improvement.
Activities Under Consideration
- Learn to read and speak a new language. My two most recent international trips were to Italy in 2018 and Montreal in 2019. Both experiences would have been elevated to a new level if I understood their respective languages and was able to communicate with greater ease. I vowed to return in the future better prepared. Would I learn French or Italian? Perhaps Spanish or Mandarin Chinese? Would a second language open the door for a third? The benefits of such an ability would compound over time.
- Learn to play an instrument. Music, rhythm, and rhyme share brain-space with writing. Poetry and song is the dish prepared with all of those ingredients. Original poetry would not go to waste given the opportunity to pair with music. I want to learn some of my favorite songs, too, understanding the language when I hear them played. This task is two-fold — one part mechanical, one part mental.
- Build something(s). I’m a below-average handyman. My ability to use a variety of manual and power tools is lacking and with a house in the not-so-distant future, it would be a worthy skill set to sharpen. I’ve often imagined implanting and curating one of those Little Free Libraries out front of a house, the ones with the hinged door and see-through front window. I’d fill it with books, magazines, and even CDs for all those passing by. What a great place to start — I wonder what color we’ll paint it?
From a writing perspective, it remains to be seen if strong content and a fun story will exist after 12-months to expand into a longer form.
And as for the sports, there will be occasional relapses, haters, and maybe a few exceptions made on this year-long challenge. I’m only human, after all.
The journey is the destination.
Monthly updates to come.
This is my first Medium article of 2021 — it feels good to be back.
