Work

Work equals Force times Displacement. This is a simple physics equation. Work has some weird definitions, though. I mean, how much work does dad actually do sitting behind a desk? He doesn’t go anywhere. It doesn’t take any force to send an email across the world. Maybe when he goes out to lunch somewhere he does work in getting there, but he will come back after his lunch break to the same place where he was, so there wasn’t any displacement. Technically dad doesn’t do any work at work. So what does he do?

There is a classic physics equation that shows that there is no work done when an object goes down a hill and then back up a hill to the same height as where it started. That is because the potential energy lost in going down the hill is all gained by going back up the other hill. Of course this only works in a perfect world.

There is a hallway in the Clyde (Engineering) Building here at BYU where there are two flights of stairs that look like they have absolutely no point. First you go down ten steps, and then five feet later you go up ten stairs. There is nothing at the bottom of these stairs. The only option is to go back up. For the longest time I’ve wanted to put up a sign on these stairs, which would read: “If this were a perfect world, you would do no work on these flights of stairs.” I’m pretty sure the engineering kids would get a kick out of it.

While hiking on the backpack one year, I was discussing physics with dad, and he told me that for every pound you have in your backpack, you lift a ton for every mile you hike. We even worked out the math one year. I forget how it all works; I was going to show how the math worked out if I remembered. But I felt pretty proud of myself for lifting 135 tons on Friday.

On Friday I had the last physical test for wildland firefighting. It is called the Pack Test. It really isn’t all that hard…if you are physically fit. I heard along the way of testers who would hurl afterwards from working too hard. The Pack Test consists of a three mile hike with a forty-five pound pack. (It doesn’t matter what constitutes the forty-five pounds—apparently someone wanted to wear their sousaphone one year because it weighs that much and they were used to it from marching band.) This hike has to be done on level ground in less than forty-five minutes. Jogging is a disqualifier.

So, from this math that dad explained to me a long time ago (you’ll have to explain it better sometime, dad), I lifted 135 tons in 40 minutes and 55 seconds. That would beat the strongman contest, wouldn’t it? And it didn’t really feel that hard. The pace was kind of quick, but it wasn’t anything we wouldn’t see on the backpack to Lost Lake. It made me feel good to be in shape.

Power can also be described in physics terms. Power is the rate at which work is exerted, or P = W/t. Therefore, because I got a lower time than twenty of the other hikers, I am that much more powerful than them.