My Unicycle Adventure
For a long time, I had been thinking about learning to ride a unicycle. A few weeks ago I found one that someone had left outside their garden to give away. Since it was almost in perfect condition, I decided to give it a try.
In this experiment, which I started on June 11, 2026, I am trying to apply the central idea behind this website: the brain does not learn because we want it to or because we decide to learn. It learns in order to save energy. But this can only happen if the task is repeated, ideally every day. Then the brain «realizes» that the task is relevant and begins to automate the necessary movements in order to reduce the energy required to perform them. This is why I believe routines are so important—not only because they guarantee daily practice, but because they repeatedly tell the brain that the task truly matters.
At the same time, the brain builds models of the world in order to navigate it. In this case, I am exposing it to a huge number of possible movements in every direction. It must discover which movements keep me balanced and which ones make me fall.
The number of possibilities is not only enormous; it is also chaotic and highly complex. Everything depends on countless variables: the position of my body, the unicycle, the wheel, the pedals, inertia, and every tiny shift in posture. Processing all this requires a tremendous amount of energy—which is precisely the kind of work the brain dislikes most.
If the task disappears, the brain will never learn it. If the task persists, however, the brain will eventually be forced to reorganize itself so that it can perform it while reducing its energy expenditure, including the effort needed to maintain balance. Seen from this perspective, success is not primarily a matter of talent or intelligence. It is simply a matter of energy economy.
My suspicion is that this principle applies to everything. The brain learns thanks to a sufficient number of experiences through which it discovers regularities that allow it to automate the task in question. But it needs a large enough sample, because with very few experiences the conclusions would be as unreliable as a survey conducted with only five people. Only after hundreds or thousands of attempts will it begin to recognize patterns that allow it to build a more precise model of how to maintain balance.
This means that virtually anyone can learn almost anything at any age, provided they create the conditions for that large number of experiences to occur.
Unicycle Logbook
Week of July 1–5, 2026
This week I want to start moving forward several metres. It will depend on whether I can find someone to help me. The good news is that I already feel quite comfortable mounting the unicycle—and perhaps more importantly, I have learned how to fall safely. I have noticed that this training has brought an unexpected bonus that was not part of the original plan. I realized it recently when I was riding my bicycle: I fell twice while stopping and had no trouble at all getting back up and continuing.
Week of June 25–30, 2026
I am now moving with considerable confidence and can mount and dismount as if I had been practising for months. What I have just noticed is a conceptual error: holding onto the rope significantly limits my range of movement. In other words, I have been practising balance almost exclusively, and my forward progress is only about two metres—far too short a distance to properly train balance while moving. I think that from next week I will ask someone to walk alongside me holding my hand. I already feel confident enough to try it.
Week of June 18–24, 2026
Little by little, mounting and dismounting is becoming easier. The fear of falling is now almost gone, even though it has already happened a few times. I still hold on firmly to the safety rope, but I have started exploring what happens when I move forwards and backwards. It will take some time before I can do it confidently, though in recent days I have noticed that the rope has faded into the background.
Week of June 11–17, 2026
The first sensation on the unicycle is that of a man who appears to have absolutely no control over his body—almost as if he were drunk or had lost the use of his limbs. Fortunately, I already know that feeling helpless at the beginning is common to all learning, and besides, I am holding onto a rope fixed to the ceiling. Even so, I am acutely aware of the countless ways I could fall, as if I myself were nothing more than a piece of jelly. Over the following days I will simply let my brain explore those possibilities. I will be like a baby crawling around and discovering its surroundings, but without straying too far from its mother. Seen that way, it is actually fun. Like recovering a piece of childhood.