how to perform beyond your capacity

     I noticed with interest readers' interest in the educational testing I had as a child. I don't remember it -- of course not. I'm not that smart. But here's the thing: if I really wanted to get my hands on the testing, I could get as close as anyone could. I would have the persistence and wherewithal to approach someone at Alice Peck Elementary School and persuade them (in writing; I can't think fast enough face-to-face to persuade many of much) to let me take a flashlight down into the school basement, find the box marked 1960-1965, and sift through its contents. Eventually I would find one moldy page, I'm thinking, with the test results and commentary written by hand.
     Paula Barrett Chu; age 8 years/2 months; grade 3:
     Overview: Not that smart, but will persist until the cows come home, provided cows are in a fenced area and have not strayed too far in the first place. 
     Conclusion: performs beyond her natural capacity. 
     Implications: Given time, she is somewhat smarter than she seems. Except when that is not true.
     Recommendations: [smudged].

     How can someone perform beyond their natural abilities? Watch and learn. Here is one of the "games" one plays on Lumosity.com when one wants to stretch their brain and feel it snap back at the same time. Here you want to move the seed to the hole in 21 moves, without bumping into the ladybugs. Those you need to move out of the way.

Here is what typically ends up happening:

 

     I've made 29 moves and still have one more to go. Why not show all 30, little seed safely in its hole? Because it took me a few rounds of the game to figure out that you can't take a screenshot of the completed puzzle -- the picture disappears as soon as the seed reaches the hole. Q.E.D. 

     But here, one step shy of getting the seed to the hole, the timer is already black, and my "route score" is moving in the same direction. And when the little celebratory tune sounds as I finally plant the precious seed in the damned hole, I can tell it is sarcastic.

     As life unfolds and I take 30 steps to do what perhaps could be done in 21, I will remind readers of my commitment to getting 10,000 steps a day -- which, when you add up all the detours and searches for phone, eyeglasses, and the 8-foot ladder, not the 5-foot one -- I am proud to say I do achieve.

     That's how you do it though, buttercups. You just keep going, even if you take a circuitous route. That allows you to attach a little extender to your brain's leash.

     Keep pulling until the collar is a little too tight and you start kind of panting.