If Part 1 was about awakening, Part 2 is about what happens when curiosity decides it has legs.
This chapter did not unfold in a lab, a clinic, or a training facility. It unfolded over coffee at Starbucks. Paper cups. Background noise. A few unsuspecting bystanders who had no idea a pinball think tank was quietly forming two tables over.
Somewhere between the first sip and the second refill, Peter’s eyes lit up like a late night casino slot machine. Once the words “state tournament” entered the conversation, the tone shifted. Not pressure. Play.
This was not a man asking for instructions. This was a man naming a direction.
What followed was not a plan. It was a soundboard.
We talked about sleep hygiene, nutrition, supplements, education, and environments, not as rules, but as levers. The goal was simple and serious at the same time. To prepare for a state tournament, he would need to: Improve recovery. Enhance stamina. Support emotional regulation. Protect cognition. Stay sharp long enough to enjoy the work.
No idea was off the table.
Wearables came up. WHOOP. Oura. Not as scorekeepers, but as curiosity tools. Conversations drifted toward local clinical professionals who specialize in brain training, eye tracking, and reaction timing. Even post-concussion protocols entered the mix, not because something was broken, but because Peter understands that brains deserve protection long before they demand repair.
Then the questions started to get even better.
Had anyone ever called Stern, the world’s leading maker of modern, arcade-quality pinball machines, to ask what features they expected players to discover, and which ones surprised them?
What happens when you talk directly with the engineers who design the rules, the flow, and the personality of a machine?
What were they thinking when they built it?
What might be coming in the next generation of machines?
At one point, Peter looked at me and said, half joking and fully serious, “We might need a road trip.”
That is when the aperture widened.
We talked about traveling to Chicago. Visiting the home of Stern Pinball. Meeting engineers. Walking factory floors. Asking questions. Listening. We talked about attending the largest annual Pinball Expo held in Chicago. Not to collect swag, but to immerse in the culture, the craft, and the future of the game.
As the conversation continued, learning itself became part of the fun.
We laughed about:
Spaced repetition, coming back to the same machines across days instead of cramming.
Interleaving, bouncing between machines and styles instead of grinding one endlessly.
Variation, changing conditions on purpose.
Retrieval, trusting recall instead of always watching tutorials.
Elaboration, explaining why a shot worked or failed.
Generation, solving problems before being shown solutions.
Peter and I explored formal terms for reviewing play afterward.
Post play calibration felt right.
We also wandered into adjacent worlds. Sports and disciplines that demand physical endurance, cognitive stamina, fast reaction timing, and emotional regulation under pressure.
Formula 1 came up more than once. Not because pinball and racing look alike, but because the nervous system does not care what uniform you are wearing.
That led to another question. What are elite performers actually using to level up their game?
Not trends. Not hype. What actually sticks?
And finally, the grounding question that keeps everything honest.
How will we know if any of this is working?
Not by trophies alone.
Consistency of engagement. Is he showing up? Is he playing regularly?
Recovery quality. How does sleep feel? How ready does he feel stepping up to the machine?
Emotional signal. Does he leave energized or depleted?
Skill progression. Not just scores, but control, composure, adaptability.
From there, the framework revealed itself again, quietly and without effort.
Name the priority.
Wrap support around it.
Expand the environments that honor it.
For Peter, that means protecting access to flow rich spaces like the pinball club. Introducing adjacent environments that sharpen the same capacities. Ensuring physical and cognitive support systems keep pace with ambition. Preserving joy while quietly reinforcing resilience.
Nothing about this feels forced. Nothing about it feels like discipline.
Once again, health is not leading. It is following.
A Plausible Post-Play Calibration
After a session or a tournament, no spreadsheets required.
Did my reactions feel sharp or forced?
Did I leave with energy or feel wrung out?
What did the machine teach me today?
What did I do well that I want to repeat?
What am I curious to explore next time?
No judgment. No grading. Just information.
Spending time with Peter when he is this impassioned is actually a bi directional investment in both of our Health401k® portfolios.
Part 3 will arrive either just before or just after the state tournament. It will not be about outcomes alone. It will be about what preparation reveals when it meets pressure.
For now, the silver ball keeps moving.
And the only honest question left is this.
Where might it lead us next?
Ryan Travis Woods
Local Business Spotlight
Community environments are catalysts for identity shifts. This one deserves recognition:
Western Mass Pinball Club (Palmer, MA), a vibrant, electric environment where beginners, experts, and legends like Peter gather to compete, connect, and rediscover flow.
Spaces like this do more than entertain. They give people back parts of themselves they thought were gone.
STAY CONNECTED
Individuals | Businesses | About | Events | Blog| Trademark & Legal
Individuals | Businesses | About | Events | Blog| Trademark & Legal