Just over half a year ago, I detailed my ideal reading month- somewhere between five and seven books. No, not necessarily six, even if that is true on average (!). And then I get a month like December 2016 and I end up reading thirteen (13) books!
The problem is that I enjoy reading books. It's not so easy to sit there, jot down the notes for books I've just finished, and then go write up a quick little blog post about it when there is a more exciting new book to read sitting on the windowsill. To ignore a new book is often a pop quiz of my willpower- and sometimes I flunk.
The struggle to delay the gratification of reading reminds me of a book I considered writing about as 'life changing' back in the spring. Like the (approximately) three thousand sports books I read as a kid, I do not remember the name of this book. All I recall is a delayed gratification problem that the main character, just barely a teenager, struggled with every single day.
The thing about the kid is that he really wanted to be a pitcher. This meant daily practice. But pitching is an unnatural motion that takes a toll on the arm. Practicing too often almost guarantees an elbow or shoulder injury, especially for young players.
If it were up to this kid, though, he would throw fastballs from dawn to dusk (when he would presumably switch over to curves and change-ups). He was smart enough to understand the consequences of such a plan, though, so he maintained an uneasy equilibrium with his practice schedule and sought other ways to relieve his boredom.
The thing I remember from the book is that, as much as he enjoyed practicing, he looked forward to practicing even more. Just the mere idea of an upcoming pitching session was good enough to see him through a dull summer day. The earlier he practiced each day, the earlier he would lose the ability to look forward to practicing. Once his practice session ended, there was little left to look forward to the rest of day.
This effectively divided his day into three sections- looking forward to pitching, pitching, and misery.
Looking back, this book was perhaps my first true example of delayed gratification. As a kid, what is often framed as 'delayed gratification' is really just disguised cause-and-effect. Eating your vegetables before dessert isn't delayed gratification, it's a trade you make- one carrot for a bowl of ice cream. I wish someone offered me that trade today. Doing your homework before watching TV isn't delayed gratification, it's a math problem. If x = faster performance, y = an early reward.
Ultimately, I decided not to consider this particular book life changing. The reason should be obvious- nothing changed! Healthy people don't just buy vegetables, they eat their salads. And knowledge remains useless (and therefore not life changing) without application. Today, every time I open a new book before I've completed the note taking and blogging process for the previous one, I'm reminded that I still fail to apply the basic concept.
Now, the idea of taking notes for future reference brings me to a second book. This book's title is, no surprise, forgotten. But I know the basic mechanics of the plot.
The story was very straightforward. The main character was an athletically overwhelmed quarterback with a brain for the sport. Desiring to one day become a coach, he joins a powerhouse college football team as a practice-only player. Throughout his four years, he meticulously observes the methods of his legendary head coach and catalogs everything he learns in a giant binder. The idea was for this binder to serve as the foundation- a playbook- for his future coaching philosophies.
About halfway into my first job, I started doing this. I would show up on a Monday morning, print out a few of these book notes that I (eventually) wrote up, and circle anything I thought might be of use on the job. I combined the ideas that related across notes documents into reference material for the more common challenges that I faced on the job- integrating new people, teaching a skill, running a meeting, organizing a job interview.
This habit proved immensely valuable for any tasks I handled outside a set schedule. That way, I could return to something a few months later without losing my past insights about a specific function or project. You could say that these documents were my own managerial playbook.
I'm not quite sure what my next role will be at the time of writing (March 2017). But I'm almost certain to continue the approach. Having accumulated wisdom on hand is tremendously valuable. Although I regret a little bit that I did not start doing this as soon as I finished reading this particular book, I am glad that I eventually got around to it. I cannot think of a better way to retain and apply what I learn from the books that I read.
