The Chocolate Ice Cream Truck
A simple story about LPs, fees, and what January 2026 actually felt like.
Before you start, one sentence of context. Providing liquidity is like running a chocolate ice cream truck that can only operate between two fixed prices. When price stays between those prices, the truck works and earns money. When price goes above or below them, the truck either sells too early or earns nothing. The story below shows what that felt like day by day in January 2026.
On January 1st, two friends start the month with the same amount of money. Each one has 10,000 dollars. Chocolate ice cream is selling for about 3,000 dollars per box. They make two different choices.
The first friend does the simplest thing possible. He takes his 10,000 dollars, buys about 3.33 boxes of chocolate ice cream, and puts them in a freezer. He does not sell, buy, or react. Every day he asks only one question: how much are my chocolate ice cream boxes worth today. That is all he does for the entire month. This is holding ETH.
The second friend does something different. Instead of putting ice cream in a freezer, he buys a chocolate ice cream truck. This truck does not drive everywhere. It is allowed to operate only on one specific street. That street starts at 2,850 dollars and ends at 3,300 dollars, and those two numbers never change for the entire month. The truck can buy and sell chocolate ice cream only on that street. Anywhere else, the truck is not allowed to operate. This street is the LP range.
As long as people are walking between 2,850 and 3,300 dollars, the truck is open. When the truck is open, people buy and sell ice cream, and the truck earns a little money that day. That daily money is what LP fees feel like. Some days the truck earns a few dollars, some days it earns more, but the truck earns money only when people stay on the street.
At the beginning of January 2026, things feel easy. People walk calmly up and down the street between 2,850 and 3,300. The truck is open every day, ice cream is sold every day, and money comes in every day. The truck owner feels productive. The freezer owner feels bored.
Then one day, something important happens. During the day, people start running past the 3,300 street, meaning they are now willing to pay more than 3,300 dollars for chocolate ice cream. The truck is not allowed to follow them past that street. Because of its rules, the truck is forced to keep selling ice cream at 3,300 dollars, even while people are willing to pay higher prices.
As people keep running upward, the truck keeps selling ice cream at 3,300 until it runs out. This means the truck sells its ice cream too early and misses the best part of the move. Later that same day, people walk back below 3,300 and end the day on the street again. The truck opens again, ice cream sells again, and a little money is made.
From the outside, the day looks normal. The truck was open and earned money. But something important changed. The truck now owns less chocolate ice cream than it did before that day. The freezer owner did not sell anything and stayed with his ice cream the whole way up.
Later in the month, the crowd changes direction. People start running downhill. One day, they fall below the 2,850 street, meaning people are now selling chocolate ice cream for less than 2,850 dollars. Below 2,850, the truck is not allowed to operate. No buying, no selling, no fees, zero.
While people keep falling lower, the truck is forced by its rules to buy chocolate ice cream at 2,850 dollars, even though prices keep dropping. This means the truck buys ice cream too early, while prices are still falling. Day after day, the truck earns nothing and risk keeps building. The freezer owner is also losing money, but he is not buying or selling anything.
At the end of January 2026, ice cream prices crash hard. Because the truck kept buying ice cream on the way down, it now owns more chocolate ice cream than the freezer owner. On paper, the truck looks better, but the truck owner remembers the full month.
Selling too early above 3,300. Earning nothing below 2,850. Being active every day. Feeling stress every day. The freezer owner remembers one thing: he bought once and waited.
This journal simply writes down that month day by day. It records when people stayed between 2,850 and 3,300, when they ran past 3,300, when they fell below 2,850, and how the truck compared to holding ice cream in the freezer.
No opinions, no advice, just two choices written honestly. The journal exists to answer one question. If this were my money, what would my month have felt like.
The Chocolate Ice Cream Warehouse
A simple story about rebalancing, inventory, and what January 2026 actually felt like.
Before you start, one sentence of context. This story is about what happens when you agree to always trade at the market price inside a fixed range, instead of holding ice cream in a freezer. Nothing breaks. Nothing fails. The story below simply records what that month felt like.
On January 1st, the same two friends start the month with the same amount of money. Each one has 10,000 dollars. Chocolate ice cream is selling for about 3,000 dollars per box.
The first friend does the same simple thing as before. He takes his 10,000 dollars, buys about 3.33 boxes of chocolate ice cream, and puts them in a freezer. He does not sell, buy, or react. Every day he asks only one question: how much are my chocolate ice cream boxes worth today. This is the Freezer Friend.
The second friend rents a chocolate ice cream warehouse. This warehouse has strict rules. Inside the warehouse there must always be both chocolate ice cream and dollars. The warehouse is allowed to operate only between two fixed prices. That range starts at 2,850 dollars and ends at 3,300 dollars, and those two numbers never change for the entire month.
Inside that range, anyone can trade instantly at the market price. Outside that range, the warehouse does nothing. No buying. No selling. No activity. This warehouse is a liquidity pool.
At the beginning of January 2026, both friends look the same. The Freezer Friend owns ice cream. The warehouse owns some ice cream and some dollars. Together, both are worth about 10,000 dollars.
Most days that month feel quiet. Chocolate ice cream moves up and down inside the range. Some mornings it drifts closer to 3,300. Some afternoons it slides back toward 2,850. But most nights, price ends somewhere in between.
On these days, the warehouse is always active. When people want to buy ice cream, the warehouse sells a little. When people want to sell ice cream, the warehouse buys a little. Ice cream leaves the warehouse. Ice cream comes back in. The movement is constant, but never extreme.
The Freezer Friend checks his freezer every day. He owns the same ice cream as before. Some days it is worth slightly more. Some days slightly less. Nothing feels urgent.
The warehouse friend checks his warehouse. Some days it holds slightly less ice cream. Other days it holds slightly more. The changes are small and frequent. Each day that price stays inside the range, trades happen. Each trade leaves behind a small amount of money. Those small amounts accumulate quietly.
Halfway through the month, the two friends compare. The Freezer Friend still owns the same ice cream he bought on day one. The warehouse owns a slightly different mix than it started with. A bit less ice cream than before, but also some extra dollars collected along the way. When everything is added together, the difference between them is small.
This is what impermanent loss feels like when price stays inside the range. It exists, but it is quiet. It never disappears, but it never takes control. It feels like inventory slowly shifting back and forth while time passes.
Later in the month, something changes. Price begins to drift upward. Inside the range, the warehouse continues doing what it always does. As price rises, it sells ice cream little by little. By the time price reaches the top of the range, the warehouse owns less ice cream than it did earlier in the month. Above 3,300, the warehouse stops.
In another version of the month, price drifts downward instead. Inside the range, the warehouse buys ice cream little by little as people sell. By the time price reaches the bottom of the range, the warehouse owns more ice cream than it did earlier in the month. Below 2,850, the warehouse stops.
At the end of January 2026, both friends look back. The Freezer Friend remembers one decision: he bought ice cream and waited. The warehouse friend remembers constant adjustment. Selling inside the range. Buying inside the range. Always reacting while price stayed inside, and then stopping when it didn’t.
This journal writes down that month honestly. It records the quiet days when price stayed inside the range. It records the shift when the month ended somewhere else. It does not say which friend was right. It exists to answer one question.
If this were my money, what would that month have felt like.