Doer v. Planner

Everyone has a “planner” and a “doer” (Richard Thaler - Misbehaving).

On Monday I went on an 8 mile hike of Mount Si.  4 miles up and 4 miles down, my calves were completely shot.  Tuesday morning I climbed on a plane and experienced the miracle that is human flight.  When I got home on Tuesday my “doer” decides he doesn’t want to work out.  My “planner” wants to stick with the regularly scheduled work out plan.

My doer argues that my body is tired and I should give it time to rest.  He fears that I will hurt myself if I tried to workout.  My “planner” knows that I’ve worked out when tired in the past, he isn’t convinced that I don’t have enough energy to put in some work and he doesn’t back down.

My doer decides to unpack, run some laundry, clean the kitchen, go grocery shopping, and do anything other than go downstairs to workout.

My Dad calls.  He asks if I am crying.  I assume he means because I just got home from Seattle; turns out he is talking about the Cardinals losing to the Cubs.  I cover my conversational tracks.  My doer stretches the conversation.  I like the Cardinals, but how can you be upset about a team who hasn't won in over a hundred years getting a chance?

It is 7:45pm; my doer claims it’s too late to workout.  There is some homework to do and if I go workout it will be late before I can get to it.

My planner has one weapon to wield over my doer, guilt.  He unleashes wave after wave of unrelenting guilt.  He refuses to give in to the doer’s impulsive and shortsighted desires.  He looks forward and say’s two hours from now you’ll be happy you worked out.  He argues that come tryout season you will have wished you worked out more not less.  He pushes the doer deeper into a sea of guilt; the weight of the water crushes the doer.

Guilt drives me down the stairs.  An hour later, pride carries me up.