There’s a documented instance of modern hunter-gatherers performing a hunt off of endurance called persistence hunting. Hunters pick a prey, like a kudu, an African antelope, and run it around for the equivalent of a marathon until it falls due to heat exhaustion. The evolutionary advantage humans have is our incredible sweat glands, which allow us to run and run. Meanwhile, most animals, like the kudu, shed heat by panting, and you can’t pant efficiently at a gallop. So, after the kudu falls, it’s easy pickings, and that amount of meat will last for days. The days after a successful hunt are still filled with as many working hours as any other day, but there’s a different vibe to them. I imagine being that hunter. That elation of a successful hunt and the security of food for the tribe. I’m still busy with meat preparations and replenishing the weapons and supplies, but also finding a few moments to lie under the shade of a tree while the children run around playing. And at night, a celebration dance around the fire, full of stories and laughter. A couple of days later, it’s time to get my head in the game for the next hunt.
That arc feels familiar. Imagine working hard on a project that culminates in a successful completion. The team is thrilled, and you’re enthusiastic about your accomplishment. The team goes out to celebrate, maybe the company gives everybody a bonus, and there are a few days before you’re assigned to the next project.
There’s a goal, you put in work, it’s a success, there’s a celebration, and there’s supposed to be time to rest.
Then why don’t we feel rested?
The problem is that the accomplishments are counterfeit. The feeling of success is artificial and lacks surprise. The to-do lists will get done, the emails will get replies, and your project will make it to the next milestone. And as a reward for a predictable outcome, we’re told to celebrate the wins. Schedule vacations to recover. Watch TV with your phone dinging next to you. Manufactured rest just doesn’t satisfy.
Our biology has evolved to adapt to long, strenuous activities with the equivalent rest afterwards. The cortisol spikes to help focus on the task, and then the dopamine ramps up in anticipation of a successful hunt. The bigger the risk, the bigger the dopamine hit. Modern work keeps the constant drip of cortisol but can’t artificially manufacture the dopamine hit - it only hits when there’s genuine surprise and thrill, not at a preplanned group happy hour.
Consider how these counterfeits feel to you:
The to-do list checkmark - Checking off an item that was always gonna get done.
The manufactured micro-reward - A snack or a drink when you complete a task that was never a surprise cause it was always gonna happen.
The Friday finish line - But was there any doubt Friday wouldn’t come? And does it represent an accomplishment?
The weekend - Two days of rest, but after all the chores and rescheduled activities, how many minutes of actual rest are there?
The vacation - Scheduled rest interrupted by checking work emails, cramming in too much, and selfies posted for likes.
The retirement - After a career of working hard, an artificial demarcation that denotes it’s finally time to rest and do whatever we want. The ultimate fakeout: I’ve talked to plenty of retirees about how there’s nothing magical about it - that they should’ve traveled more, exercised more, and spent more time with the family throughout.
Well-deserved rest doesn’t hit the same when the result is a foregone conclusion. The rest our ancestors enjoyed came from a massive effort and the unpredictability of it. That rest felt authentic, and the body evolved to recognize that as true rest. No amount of manufactured rest can feel the same, and so, we are left with this constant thirst for rest. And that thirst isn’t a flaw to fix - it’s the one part of you that still refuses the counterfeit.
“Walking 10,000 steps in a day is no joke. It requires a lot of time and commitment. It’s like a little game I play with myself everyday - where can I slot in a few more steps?”
- from my AffirmStreak this morning

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