The Unrivaled Joy of Digging Pole Holes

Waylon Hasty, owner and head instructor at the Elite Lineman Training Institute (ELTI), told our class repeatedly that hand digging pole holes was “the best job ever.” After a month of digging holes I can confidently confirm his assessment, and I may even be bold enough to state that he undersold how enjoyable digging pole holes was.

I’ve always embraced “grunt work” in my jobs, which was work that needed doing, but few people genuinely enjoyed. Credit my upbringing, my depression, or my perfectionism, perhaps all three — I’ve always been able to do monotonous work with a high degree of attention to detail. That served me well as a web developer, eLearning designer, and even as an official. What I didn’t expect was that this skill I honed through years of looking at code, if/than statements, and rulebook arcana would lead to such moments of joy when the grunt work is made as simple as: dig a hole 6.5 feet deep and 3 feet wide.

I remember hearing derogatory comments toward those that did physical labor while growing up. Sometimes from teachers. Often it was from the older friends of my parents or some aunts and uncles. “Make sure you study hard so you don’t grow up to dig holes for a living,” was a common refrain during my middle-class upbringing. Now, I’ve never been against physical labor. I remember a co-worker of mine at US Lacrosse, Beth (who is awesome), told me she was going to compliment my work ethic to my boss after I assisted her team so well at a national tournament event. She said I was always available from the moment we woke up until the whole day was done to move material, haul water jugs, set up tables, or just clean. Part of me was surprised that that was enough to get a commendation, and the rest of me was happy that I made a good impression.

Since my mom first “volunteered” me to move rocks and plants around in the backyard as a young child, I’ve found it simple to grit my teeth and get the job done. That skill morphed into an ability to grit out tech work and spreadsheets, but its grounding in the physical has helped me stand apart at all the jobs I’ve had.

All this flashes across my mind in some form or fashion while I’m using post hole diggers. I’m in a flow state where my entire being is focused on the task at hand. Slam diggers into dirt, compact dirt, bend at the knees, lift, deposit dirt on tarp, kick diggers, repeat. This continues for one to four hours, depending on the size of the hole and if we run into any rocks. I will say, rocks freaking suck, but that’s for another post. A flow state is whenever you are fully immersed in an activity, and you’ve tasted this state whenever time seemed to slip away while you feel joy.

I referee because it puts me in a flow state and that state is immensely pleasurable. I’ve said before that refereeing saved my life when I was younger and severely depressed, but that isn’t as specific an answer as I thought. I think repeatedly being in a flow state dumped tons of feel good chemicals into my brain. Coupled with the all the endorphins from running around and the deep social connections I forged with crew mates, being in a regular flow state helped me survive. Additional proof for this hypothesis is that all of my attempts to end my life were in the lacrosse offseason. When I was not spending three to five nights a week officiating double-headers. This is why I’m so happy that I’ve made this career change.

I wanted something that was similar to being an official, and where I could develop a career. I’m still officiating this season to a limited extent, but when the season ends in May I be digging holes and hauling material. I’ll still be accessing that flow state regularly, and now that I’m on a healthy dose of Prozac, eating well, and still benefiting from my ECT procedures, I feel my future is getting brighter and brighter while I get dirtier and dirtier.