Often, just for fun, I do old NY Times Saturday crossword puzzles from their archives, usually on my phone. Sometimes I can finish them very quickly — my best times are around 10 minutes or so. But other times it can take a lot longer.
The other day I was wrestling with a particularly difficult one. I was really struggling, and it looked like it was going to take at least half an hour.
When I finally filled in the last square, I looked at my time, and it read 29:59. In that moment I felt an enormous sense of elation.
Never mind that it had taken me about three times longer than my best times. I felt enormously happy that I had gotten in just under the wire, beating the half hour mark by a single second.
If I had finished the puzzle in 11:37, I would not have felt the same pleasurable rush as I felt at 29:59. Logically it made no sense. And yet there it was.
What is this emotion, this irrational response to beating an arbitrary — and arguably meaningless — marker? Why do we get so excited at such “achievements”?
Why did I feel such a heady sense of accomplishment? All I had really done was manage to finish a crossword puzzle in half an hour.
Well, actually, less than half an hour. 🙂