Puzzling

A while ago I mentioned my enthusiasm in making logic puzzles; both in creating these puzzles for others to play, and in solving those made by others. But digital and/or logical puzzles are not the only kind of mental diversion I enjoy; there are also the physical sort, in the shape of jigsaw puzzles. Now this used to be something we did around Christmas time: put a big panel of wood on the dining room table (so that we could remove the puzzle if it wasn't finished by dinner time, which is honestly never was), pick a jigsaw puzzle we all liked or hadn't made in a while, and put it together. This was a team effort; someone could abandon the puzzle for a couple of hours to do the cooking or shopping or whatever, but there were longish stretches of time where everyone was at the table, cup of tea at their elbow, solving the puzzle together. My parents own a couple of puzzles, the older and bigger ones showing drawings of birds or rural scenes, the newer ones more colourful, with for example paintings by Van Gogh.
Now as I went away to uni, making a jigsaw wasn't really an option; for one because I didn't have a dinner table. But also; it's really a bit of an old person's hobby, right? So while living on my own, I never really made them. But a couple of years ago I was in a games store in December, and they sold the most beautiful puzzle of a curious bookcase, and I fell in love with the colours and the funny titles and the many beautiful details, so I bought it. And then a friend bought me another one. This was one of those friends who also enjoys making jigsaws, although this was not something you'd go around telling everyone, for fear of being considered dull.

But then this changed. We, the people, millennials most of all, are all too stressed out, working too hard and not being mindful of ourselves. Firstly, there were the colouring books for adults. Followed by yoga for everyone. Then, cuddling with cows. (I may have the order mixed up a bit, but you get the drift.) Somewhere along those lines, making jigsaw puzzles became socially accepted. Encouraged. Something to live in the moment, to take your mind off your busy life and impossible life choices. Suddenly, everyone was making jigsaws. And to make things better: they were doing it competitively.
Now I know this sounds like a proper juxtaposition: we're making jigsaws to forget about our rat race lives, and then we turned into a competition. And that is probably true. But it is a fact that the Dutch National Jigsaw Competition is in its tenth year in 2020. The first couple of years were small events with lots of jokes (puzzling in the dark, or without the example picture), but for the last 3 years it has become a serious business, with dozens of teams from all over the country competing. These teams of four (no more, no less) make the same 1,000 piece puzzle by Jan van Haasteren under the same conditions, trying to finish quickest. The national record is at 57 minutes.

One of my colleagues competed in 2018 and 2019, finishing second both times. Inspired by her stories and together with another colleague and a friend of mine, we tried to get into the 2019 competition as well, but all the qualification rounds were already fully booked. So, we set about practising. We'd all made jigsaw puzzles, lots of them, but trying to make one as fast as you can, without taking the time to go to the bathroom or take a sip of tea or do something else entirely was very strange at first. Hard to take serious, in a way. Also, the strategies to finishing a puzzle as quickly as possible are wildly different from just making one at home for fun. In the latter case, for me, the pieces stay in the box, I start by making the outer edge first and then fill it in gradually. In competitive puzzling, you throw all the pieces out of the box and sort them as quickly as you can, putting all the large colourful areas together first and not even bothering with the outer edge, as that will only get in the way when you're moving pieces around. We became pretty quick, even more so when a fourth member joined our team and we could actually compare our times to the times other teams had on earlier occasions.

This year, we were on time for the qualification round nearest to our home. We went there, full of anticipation, finding ourselves in a room with 39 other teams, mainly women, of all ages. Some teams were of the semi-professional kind, even wearing team shirts, others were clearly mainly there to have a pleasant evening together. Of these 40 teams, only 3 would go on to the finale. After the national anthem (it being a national competition) we counted down together, tore the wrapping paper from the box, and were very happy to see that it was one of the prettiest and easiest puzzles Jan van Haasteren has made. So we were in good spirits, dumped the pieces on the table and got started. After about 30 minutes, the announcer told us that if we wanted to break the national record, we should be halfway by now. And that some teams were more than halfway already. We looked at each other in despair; we were nowhere near halfway. How could they be this quick? After just 44 minutes and 24 seconds the first team was finished. They broke the national record by 13 minutes, setting an impossible time to ever beat. One place for the finale had been filled. We looked over to the only neighbours we could see; they were also nearly finished. There was no way we were going to make this.
Now I've never really competed in anything. I'm not a sports person. I like to win when playing boardgames, but I enjoy the company and the togetherness more than the victory. So I was surprised to notice my own drive, my own ambition to finishing this puzzle as quickly as possible, against all odds of ever taking a place in the finale. And I wasn't the only one. Our faces were red, we were standing up and shoving pieces at each other and into the jigsaw as quickly as we could. At the one hour mark, the announcer said that the numbers 2 and 3 were also close to finishing. We still had to put in about 100 pieces; we were sure we weren't going to make it. At 1:02:38, the table next to us erupted into cheers. We paid no attention, as we just needed to put in about another 10 pieces ourselves. At 1:02:53, we were finished. Third place. We made it into the finale, against all odds, the only newcomer team to make it. Fourth place was at 1:07:18, so we beat them by almost 5 minutes. I still can hardly believe it.
As I said, I've never been a competitive person. But I can now see why people do these things, put in the hours, train together, focus, keep going even when you're sure you're not going to make it. It was a rush of adrenaline, of energy, and most of all of great fun. We reached our goal; getting into the actual finale. Which we'll enter without any hope or expectations, as were the newcomers and there are so many better, faster teams. But it'll be another experience to remember. And... who knows?
These Christmas holidays, I'm back to making jigsaws at a more leisurely pace, together with family and friends, the way I secretly still like it best.

Someone managed to take a picture at our moment of triumph.