Turns out the Chinese cigarette brand I was smoking was also functionally poisonous. Zhongnanhai 8′s. Dunno if they have any additives; internet research implied not, for Chinese cigarettes in general. But they do quite a bit of treatment and processing on the tobacco, and there’s a filter, so that could be enough.
In any case, the evidence was clear. I switched to handrolls and lotsa problems went away, including poor quality sleep. So that explains a lot, because my attempts to work were always linked to heavy cigarette consumption.
However, the real force multiplier was the arrival of my Lifespan DT-5 treadmill desk. Hooooly shit. My only objective is to either fight for the Kingdom or put a revolver to my head, and this lets me do it. Seth Roberts invented the concept, and it works. Being sedentary plays havoc with your metabolism, just like the SAD and diseases of civilization, as the astronaut sedentary studies demonstrate. Moreover, walking without the usual stimulation of a changing physical environment leads the monkey brain to latch onto abstract work like a terrier on a rat or a 6 on an alpha.
It just feels great. There’s no constant war against fatigue and procrastination. Stress, frustration and negative affect that piles up while sitting rolls away with the swagger stroll, left miles behind in the dust, keeping completed milestones company, both never to be revisited.
I wonder whether liver damage increases my susceptibility to the metabolic effects of being sedentary. My initial incacitation was brought about by super long working hours in Hong Kong, sitting at a desk and drinking Red Bulls to push myself harder. That was the wrong way to push. This is the right way. Now life can begin. Time to start rolling out what I’ve been saving for the last 10 years.
The physical pain of this illness was nothing compared to the soul destruction of failing in my one objective to work for the Kingdom. The amazing thing is the simple act of walking and working lets all that pain roll away, miles behind. All the difficulties with keeping the regimen, staying disciplined, self-control, are likewise gone. It was the damn sitting. All I wanted to do was work, which meant all I wanted to do was sit, which meant all that I wanted to do was fail.
The first inkling I had that sitting might be a genuine problem was in college, when I gave myself arrhythmia and a few grey hairs by workaholic sessions with poor posture. Shoulda taken the hint then.
It makes no logical sense that, on the same day, I can have 1-2/5 willpower and energy whilst sitting and pseudoworking, and then 4-5/5 energy and willpower, with the only difference being a treadmill desk. Or, it makes no logical sense if you have a Newtonian view of body energy reserves and output. It’s not physics, it’s chemistry. It’s not morality; it’s evolutionary biology.
I have four walls and a forge. I will not budge from this place, for love or money, until I’ve built my empire, or at least have had minions prep prep the next peripatetic lair.