I thought I just had unusual hobbies. I spent countless hours practising classical guitar; not just because I enjoyed performing, but because I loved refining technique. Playing the same passage over and over until every movement felt effortless never felt like a chore.
Later I found the same feeling in fighting games. I'd happily spend entire evenings in training mode, repeating the same combo hundreds of times. Not because anyone was watching. Not because I had to. Because getting a little cleaner every repetition was satisfying in itself.
Then rhythm games. The more technical they became, the more I enjoyed them. The appeal wasn't beating someone else's score; it was watching my own hands gradually become more precise through repetition.
Looking back, all of these activities had something in common: they were procedural. They weren't about memorising facts or understanding explanations. They were about repeatedly performing an action until my brain and body simply knew how to do it.
Eventually I realised that wasn't just how I liked to spend my free time. It was probably how I learn best. That changed the way I think about learning entirely.
Most educational advice assumes repetition is the unpleasant part; something you endure because it eventually leads to understanding. For me, repetition is the enjoyable part. The understanding comes afterwards.
That sounds like a small distinction, but it completely changes what makes a good learning tool.
Most learning software tries to maximise how much you learn in a single session. It explains concepts more clearly, tracks progress more carefully, adds quizzes, unlocks, streaks, and rewards. None of that matters if I don't actually want to open the app. The bottleneck isn't how much I learn every minute; it's whether I feel like doing another repetition.
Once I recognised that, I started building tools for myself instead of trying to build educational software. One lets me repeatedly type command-line commands until they become automatic. Another has me type mathematical derivations instead of choosing answers from multiple choice.
To someone else, they probably look repetitive to the point of boredom. To me, they're relaxing. Typing the next command. Solving one more derivation. Writing one more function. Each repetition feels complete on its own, and before I know it I've spent an hour practising something without ever feeling like I was studying.
The strange thing is that whenever I tried to make these tools more educational, I usually made them worse. I'd add progression systems. Unlocks. Guided pathways. Recommended next exercises. Every feature made perfect sense from the perspective of teaching; every feature also made me slightly less interested in using the tool.
Eventually I realised I was optimising the wrong thing. I don't need software that convinces me to study. I need software that makes me want to do one more repetition. The learning takes care of itself.
I think that's because the activity itself is rewarding. The small improvements in timing, accuracy, and fluency are enough to keep me engaged. I don't need an external reward because the repetition already provides one.
Procedural learning looks incredibly inefficient from the outside. Hundreds of repetitions to internalise one thing looks slow next to reading a summary or watching an explanation once. But the more I rely on learning this way, the faster I seem to get at learning new things this way. I have no source for this beyond my own experience; it's entirely anecdotal. But it also seems that once something is learned this way, it doesn't fade. You don't forget it the way you forget a fact you once read. Your body just knows.
I'm sure this isn't how everyone learns. Some people love reading. Others enjoy listening to lectures or discussing ideas. Many people would probably find my way of practising incredibly monotonous. But recognising that difference has been surprisingly valuable.
For years I thought I lacked discipline whenever I abandoned learning resources. Now I think they simply didn't match the way my brain likes to acquire skills. Instead of fighting that, I've started leaning into it. Rather than trying to become someone who enjoys traditional study, I'm building around the kind of practice I naturally gravitate towards anyway.
It's a simple idea: if I genuinely enjoy the repetitions, I'll keep coming back. And if I keep coming back, improvement is almost inevitable.