In 2010 I enlisted into the Singapore Armed Forces as part of my National Service. 102 weeks of service, to be precise.

About 10 weeks into it, I realized that I hadn’t done anything worth mentioning. I hadn’t learnt anything worth mentioning. I hadn’t contributed anything, and amounted to precisely nothing. I was determined to do better for the remaining 90 odd weeks of my National Service.

I liked the idea of “What gets measured, gets managed,” which I believe is a Peter Drucker quote, which I heard of through Tim Ferriss.

Well, I completed my National Service 3 weeks ago, and I’m proud to share that the 90 Week Project was a wonderful… failure.

The reason it failed was remarkably specific.

The project had been going great for about 30 weeks, during which I collected a remarkable amount of data about myself. The mere act of collecting this data transformed the way I acted and carried myself. I made better decisions. I ate better, spent less, worked out more, read more. It wasn’t even a particularly conscious decision.

We behave differently when we think people are watching- and keeping a journal sort of has that effect. You observe yourself- and you behave differently when you’re being observed.

Around week 40, I was to “repeat” my Basic Military Training. (I hadn’t actually done it- I wasn’t allowed to the first time around, because I was suspected of having a medical condition that I didn’t have.) BMT shook my life up completely, in both good ways and bad. I brought along my notebook- THE notebook, with all my statistics, metrics, goals, plans, and most precious of all, a series of passages I had written for myself, stream-of-consciousness style.

This was a bit of a bad idea- on hindsight, I should have prepared a separate journal for BMT, or perhaps simply used the raw materials I was given there, and then transfered the data to my main journal on the weekends, when I got to go home.

My journal would have been safe in my locker in my bunk, and on hindsight I should have left it there. But I brought it along with me in my load-bearing vest when we were headed to another part of camp which was far away, and rarely visited.

Physically and psychologically drained from training, I didn’t notice that I had left it behind. The realization hit me when I returned to my bunk later in the day, and it absolutely shattered me. I was emotionally distraught. I made every attempt I could to recover it- I even approached my superiors, who surprised me with their willingness to take the trouble to pursue the matter- but it was gone, lost for ever.

Prior to BMT, I had made it a point to constantly transfer data from my notebook to digital formats- text files and blog posts. However, the weeks leading up to my BMT were rather rushed, and I didn’t take the time to keep up to date with my backups.

I was devestated.

On hindsight, I should have picked myself up, dusted myself off and started over. It’s okay, I should have told myself. I could have dealt with a few blank weeks in the middle of the larger project. Sometimes a little silence speaks the loudest. But I was unable to recreate that sort of positive mental state. BMT simply wasn’t a conducive environment to start something all over again, or to manage any kind of emotional stress- just ask anybody who broke up with their significant other during those few months. The project lost its flow- I broke its back, and it would never recover until its timely end.

So let’s break it down.

My project died prematurely because I was not sufficiently prepared for failure. I did not expect to cope with unexpected loss. I went on tilt and sabotaged the mision by refusing to try again. I did not know how to fold and start over. I was like a sportsman whose career ended after an injury- because it broke not just his leg, but his spirit as well. I didn’t know how to roll with the punches.

I’m reminded of Rocky’s words: It’s not about how hard you hit- it’s about how hard you get hit, and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! If you know what you’re worth, go out and get what you’re worth, but you gotta be willing to take the hits! And not say you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that, and that ain’t you! You’re better than that!

Sorry. Anyway, as you may have guessed, the 90 week project wasn’t a complete and total failure. Nothing ever really is. I still have a bunch of data that I can interpret and learn from. It was still a hell of a ride.

Here are some consistent trends I noticed.

My 3 biggest complaints were:

1: Not enough sleep/sleep deprived
2: Dehydrated
3: Wasted time online

These 3 were highly recurring problems- things that I complain about on a very regular basis. They’re also things that I have the power to change.

Hard Reset: Every so often I fall into a pattern of late nights that seems difficult to break. The only way to fix this, I find, is to set aside a day where I go to bed at about 8pm or earlier. This has been effective so far.

Water Parades: The military got this figured out. Drink 500ml when you wake up, again at lunch, and again after dinner. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than dehydration. A dehydrated body is terrible to work with. A dehydrated mind even more so. Water is the magic juice.

Strict Pomodoro: I waste time online when I’m not paying attention to the time. I find that Google Chrome’s Strict Pomodoro application saves me from this. Now if only I could remember to use it more often. I need to develop a habit of deciding what I’m going to do with my time online before I even turn on the internet. (I’m writing this entire article while I’m completely disconnected from the internet.)

—

I notice that I’m much more productive in general when I’ve been working out. I kept track of my workouts, and I’d been working out consistently for 2-3 weeks or longer, I notice that I’d write more, sleep better, spend less and generally seem to have livelier, happier statistics.

—

Inertia, or Chaining: You might expect a fairly even distribution of effectiveness and lethargy, but it wasn’t. I was either furiously productive, “baseline productive”, or completely vacant and unproductive. If I had to translate that onto a scale of 1-100, we’re looking at either high 80s, low 60s, or low 10s.

Even that, I feel, doesn’t capture the dramatic difference. Some days would have so much done that I wouldn’t have enough space in the pages to write what I did- and sometimes there’d be days or even weeks of vacant emptiness. Sometimes I’d write 3 to 5 blog posts in a day, when I’m on fire and completely oblivious to reality.

Otherwise I’d spend a few hours writing a single post, distracting myself with frivolous nonsense along the way. When I finally complete it, my productivity for the rest of the day is shot- I feel like I’ve “hit my quota”, and subsequently accomplish nothing. But even that’s better than my absolute listlessness, where I get nothing done.

If I am to be more productive, which I’d like to be, I see 3 things I need to do.

First, I need to increase the number of “beserker” days, where I write like a beast. This is done, I find, by stimulating myself in advance- I write like a crazy beast after having great conversation, whether with people, or with myself when I’m reading good books. I need to incorporate this into my operating system, making it a habit.

Second, I need to learn to swap tasks. If I’m not in beserker mode, I should be content with publishing a single post- and move on to another pursuit, such as reading, practicing music, building my business, whatever. By changing the game, I exploit the 80/20 rule and minimise the effect of diminishing marginal returns.

Third, I need to avoid listless days by keeping track of what I’m doing, and setting periodic alarms. A brief period of listlessness is understandable, but an entire week is not. I need to institute daily routines, and even maybe half-daily routines, to constantly remind myself of my goals, what I want to accomplish, what I want to do.

—

Splitting Up The Writing: During my Signals course (which was right after my BMT), I discovered a powerful and disturbing fact- I write far, far more when I’m disconnected from the internet, or even a word processor. I can fill up pages and pages with just ink and paper. I could write literally thousands of words, about 4-5 blog posts worth of material in a single evening.

The slight “catch” is that they’d be unedited, so the language might not be as perfect as I’d like it to be. But the sheer volume was overwhelming. It made me feel a bit pathetic, because it made me realize that I might not be using even 10% of my potential- that I could be writing at a level far beyond anything I had imagined before.

—

I’m sure I have more lessons to learn. But reflection must be coupled with action. I’d get more out of this if I act upon what I’ve learnt so far.

I’m restarting the 90 week project in the form of the 28 week project (which is the time between my ORD and my A level examinations.) It’s currently week 3, day 5. We’ll see how this one works out.

TL;DR:

My project failed because I lost my notebook, which broke my spirit. I learnt that I should prepare for setbacks, and get back on my feet ASAP.

My main problems were sleep deprivation, dehydration and online distractions. I am taking steps to remedy this.

I’m more productive when I’ve been working out.

I have 3 levels of productivity- beserker, satisficing and snorlax. I need to encourage more of the first, hack the second by switching tasks once I’ve accomplished something, and systematically eradicate the third through a series of checks and balances.