There are, I’m increasingly convinced, two distinct forms of pleasurable activity: type 1 fun and type 2 fun.
The first category refers to activities that are enjoyable in the moment.
The second refers to activities that are enjoyable only in retrospect.
Understandably, most of us spend our lives chasing type 1 fun – hoping, perhaps, that added together these instant fixes of enjoyment might equate to lasting happiness.
But there is another type of pleasure-seeker: one who seeks out type 2 fun.
Cross country at Parliament Hall: photo by Gary Mitchell
As I made my fourth rotation of Parliament Hill – ankle-deep in mud, soaked to the bone – I reflected that I was yet again chasing type 2 fun.
There was nothing obviously enjoyable about my predicament: gasping for air as I desperately attempted to squeeze into the top 100 at the highly competitive London Cross Country Champs.
Yet something propelled me on. Perhaps it was pride. But maybe, just maybe, it was the pursuit of a different kind of happiness. One that requires hard work and effort, yes, but one that lingers longer and fulfils more deeply.
Because that’s the thing: three days after the race, I’m still on a high. My performance was fairly unremarkable – I finished 131st in a field of 353 – but the memories of bounding up and down muddy slopes have taken on a rose-tinted hew: I am now luxuriating in the warm afterglow that only type 2 fun can provide.
And the best part? It cost me nothing – only the willingness to pull on a pair of spikes and give a challenging activity my all.
In our age of instant gratification, we could all benefit from reacquainting ourselves with some type 2 fun. So, see you at the next cross-country?
