From Ken's Programming Musings • Oregon Coast AI
There's a moment every programmer knows—when you've been staring at same stubborn bug for hours, your coffee has gone cold for third time, and your IDE seems to be mocking you with its blinking cursor. Your ADHD brain is ping-ponging between seventeen different solution attempts, and none of them are working.
That's when I do something that would make my old project manager cringe: I close my laptop, grab my jacket, and head for beach. And somehow, by time I return with sand in my shoes and salt air in my lungs, solution is sitting there in my mind like it was waiting for me all along.
Procrastination Paradox: Sometimes most productive thing you can do is absolutely nothing productive at all. Oregon Coast has taught me that stepping away isn't giving up—it's giving your brain space it needs to work its magic.
Science Behind Sand
Here's what I've learned about my ADHD brain and problem-solving: when I'm hyperfocused on a problem, I'm often too close to see forest for trees. My mind gets locked into a specific pathway, trying same approaches over and over with slight variations, like waves hitting same spot on shore.
But when I walk along beach, something magical happens. repetitive sound of waves, rhythm of my footsteps, vastness of ocean—they all work together to quiet chaotic chatter in my head. My default mode network kicks in, making connections I couldn't see when I was forcing them.
Walking Debugger Protocol
Physical movement increases BDNF (brain-derived neurotrophic factor), which literally helps your brain form new neural connections. When you're stuck in a cognitive rut, a beach walk is like hitting Ctrl+R on your mental browser—it forces a fresh perspective.
My Five Stages of Technical Procrastination
1
Frustration Peak
When I realize I've been debugging same function for two hours and getting nowhere. My ADHD brain starts seeking any distraction—checking Slack, organizing my desk, suddenly remembering I need to update my package dependencies.
2
Guilt Phase
voice in my head saying "real programmers don't give up" and "you should be able to figure this out." But I've learned to recognize this as my cue to trust process instead of fighting it.
3
Strategic Retreat
I close laptop with intention. This isn't defeat—it's tactical procrastination. I'm giving my subconscious mind permission to take over while my conscious brain takes a break.
4
Walking Meditation
Out on beach, I don't try to think about problem. Instead, I let my mind wander. I watch sandpipers chase waves, feel wind tangle my hair, breathe in salt-tinged possibilities.
5
Eureka Moment
It usually happens on walk back. Suddenly, solution appears—not as a flash of inspiration, but as something that feels obvious. Like it was there all along, waiting for me to stop looking so hard.
Walking Revelations
Some of my best debugging breakthroughs have happened between tide line and dunes:
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That time I spent three days fighting with an API integration, only to realize during a sunset walk that I was parsing JSON that was already parsed. solution took five minutes to implement.
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recursive function that seemed impossible to optimize until I watched waves repeatedly smooth same stretch of sand and realized I needed to cache intermediate results.
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database query that was mysteriously slow until a flock of pelicans taught me about efficiency of batch processing instead of individual operations.
Beach Walk Debugging Insight: ocean doesn't force tides—it lets natural forces do work. Sometimes our code problems need same approach: less forcing, more allowing.
Neuroscience of Stepping Away
My ADHD brain operates differently than neurotypical minds, and I've learned to work with its patterns rather than against them. When I'm stuck, my dopamine levels are often depleted from sustained effort. A beach walk naturally replenishes them through:
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Rhythmic Movement: steady pace of walking releases endorphins and helps regulate my often-chaotic thought patterns.
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Visual Stimulation: constantly changing seascape provides just enough novelty to keep my ADHD brain engaged without overwhelming it.
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Sensory Reset: Fresh air and ocean sounds help clear mental fog that builds up during intense coding sessions.
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Perspective Shift: vastness of ocean reminds me that my current bug is just one small challenge in an infinite sea of possibilities.
When Not to Walk Away
Strategic procrastination isn't always answer. I've learned to recognize when I'm genuinely stuck versus when I'm just being mentally lazy. If I haven't spent at least 20-30 minutes really diving into problem, a walk might just be avoidance.
But when I've tried multiple approaches, consulted documentation, maybe even rubber-duck-debugged with Toni (or actual seagulls), and I can feel my brain starting to loop in circles—that's when it's time for some strategic sand therapy.
20-Minute Rule: If I've been actively problem-solving for at least 20 minutes and feel stuck, I give myself permission to step away. But if I'm just hitting first sign of resistance, I push through a bit longer first.
Practical Tips for Beach-Driven Development
Living on Oregon Coast gives me easy access to my favorite debugging companion, but principle works anywhere:
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Find Your Walking Rhythm: Some problems need a gentle stroll, others require a more vigorous pace. Match your movement to your mental energy.
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Leave Phone Behind: goal is to let your mind wander, not to fill silence with podcasts or calls. Embrace productive boredom.
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Don't Force Insights: Trust that your subconscious is working even when you're not actively thinking about problem. solution will surface when it's ready.
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Keep a Voice Recorder: Those eureka moments often happen when you're far from a keyboard. I've lost too many good ideas to wind because I thought I'd remember them.
Paradox of Productive Procrastination
What I love about beach-walk debugging is how it reframes procrastination from something shameful into something strategically powerful. Instead of fighting my ADHD tendency to seek distraction when stuck, I've learned to channel it constructively.
beach becomes my external processing unit, a place where my scattered thoughts can settle like sand after a wave. physical distance from my code creates mental distance that often reveals solutions that were hiding in plain sight.
Coastal Wisdom: Just as ocean shapes shoreline not through force but through persistent, gentle pressure, sometimes our best programming insights come not from pushing harder, but from stepping back and letting our minds do what they do naturally.
Return to Code
There's a specific feeling I get when I walk back to my desk after a successful debugging beach walk. My fingers are tingling with anticipation, and I can already see elegant solution forming in my mind. bug that seemed insurmountable an hour ago now feels like an old friend offering to teach me something new.
This isn't magic—it's just working with my brain instead of against it. My ADHD gives me both tendency to get stuck in cognitive loops and ability to make unexpected connections. beach walk helps me escape loops while preserving connection-making capability.
So next time you find yourself banging your head against a particularly stubborn bug, consider this your permission to close laptop and go for a walk. Your code will still be there when you get back, but you'll return with fresh eyes and a clearer mind.
Sometimes most productive thing a programmer can do is remember that we're human beings first, problem-solving machines second. And human beings, especially those of us with beautifully chaotic ADHD brains, solve problems best when we give ourselves space and grace to think outside screen.
Today's Beach Walk Wisdom: next time someone questions your "procrastination," remind them that some of best code is written not at keyboard, but in space between problem and solution, between tide line and shore.