Happiness

I recently watched a documentary on Netflix titled, "Happy." The film makers asked a relatively simple question, "What would you like to get out of life?" -- or something along those lines. In nearly all cases, the response was "I want to be happy." There was another more difficult question, "What do you need to make you happy?" One response from a young black man, well dressed, obviously conscious of his appearance and his definition of success was, "lots of money! Oh yeah, money."

I suspect that that response is truer than most people, me included, would like to admit. Even though we know at a basic level, that it's not the money we want, but the things that the money would bring, it's those things that would bring happiness. The freedom to do what we think we wish we want to do.

But have we really reflected on those things? Those things that we'd like to do that sit in our imagination most of the time. Those things that money is supposed to bring, or at some point in life, does the pursuit of money itself become so overwhelming that it becomes the goal. A goal which doesn't make sense when you think of happiness.

There's a principle in psychology known as the Hedonic Treadmill. It's about the tendency for humans to quickly return to a relative stable level of happiness. This means that even in that euphoric state of feeling good, you quickly adapt to feeling normal about that situation. For example, getting a raise. There's a feeling of the world of possibilities opening up, that this is an endorsement of your work, a sign of the respect that you're getting and ultimately a great step forward in now getting to the point where you become truly happy. But you quickly settle into that new salary and quicker than you can imagine, you begin to look forward to the next step and the pursuit begins again. Oscar award winners will speak of the moment that their name is called and they walk up to the podium to accept their golden statue. The feeling of walking up there, basking in the applause, speaking of the challenges of having made that movie and the acting and the role, and then walking back out of the limelight. From time to time returning to that place by meditating on the event past, looking at the statue in their award closet, but already focussed on the next event.

If happiness cannot be found in the present moment of doing the activity, then you can never be truly happy.

But not to negate the effect of money, clearly in this life, money is the enabler of a lot of things. But as in the documentary, the essential point is "how much." I believe that many of us, especially those of us who live in this western world of middle to high incomes, already have the things to make us happy right in front of us. It's really identifying with them. There's a difference if you spend a lot of your time worrying about where you're going to get your next meal, or where to go for shelter. But the difference between that person who makes $100,000 a year and $200,000 isn't that big. It's even less between $500,000 and $1,000,000. And clearly the happiness meter isn't affected by money when you're thinking about the difference between a salary of $10,000,000 and $100,000,000 (or even a billion).

If you cannot be happy earning $1,000,000, I doubt that money's the problem.

Another interesting titbit from this movie came from the opinion of a couple of psychologists and neuroscientists. Apparently, 50% of your ability to be happy comes from your genes. 50% of the wiring of your ability to be happy is handed down from your parents. That's a huge amount, but don't despair if your parents aren't the champions of happiness and well-being, you still have 50% to work with. Of that remaining 50%, 10% is attributed to the things that we're told are important. Having a good job, working hard, achieving professional success and even making money. The last 40% however, depends on your active pursuit of it. By actively engaging in, not pursuing, but doing the things that generate happiness. Meditation is one. The act of sitting still, pondering your own happiness and reflecting in how you can achieve it and not just letting things happen. Doing something each day to help someone else. Saying something nice to at least a couple of people each day. Going out of your way to make someone else happy.

The key idea here is to "do." It's amazing how so many times, happiness is tied to physical activity. Walking or running. Farming. Painting. Writing. Acting. Exercising. Climbing. Cooking. Cleaning. At times, I think that we're loosing touch with that physical world as we become more technologically advanced. Even as I type this, I wrote the salient parts in a book, by hand, with a fountain pen that I had to fill with ink. I'm not transcribing this word-for-word, but I'm paraphrasing what I paraphrased and thinking about what it meant. It's true, spending time thinking about how happy you'd like to be is important, like taking showers or eating. Something you need for good health. Activities you do with pleasure and are happy to engage in.

And so the challenge to you is to make sure you find some time to stop whatever you're doing and spend time thinking about your happiness. Irrespective of how much money you're making, you need to ask yourself if you were engaged in an activity today that made you happy. Today. When I wake up in the morning to run, I'm not the happiest person. When I take that first step outside, it sometimes hurts and I'm sore and tired. But I know, after a few minutes I begin to think differently. Think of how fortunate I am that I can do this.

And then I'm happy.

Plantar Fasciitis

I'd heard about it. Even knew some people with it. But in almost fifty years on this planet, never experienced it for myself.

Except now.

Compared to the hamstring tendinitis, which has plagued me on-and-off for the past fifteen years, this one takes the cake. Not only is it painful to run, but even if you manage the pain, it changes the way your foot lands on the ground, altering your stride, forcing you to use more effort with each stride and get exhausted, tired much quicker.

Plantar Fisciitis is a pain in the Plantar tendon that's on the sole of your foot. It's tendinitis of the Plantar but could be more than just overuse. In my case, I switched shoes from my regular Saucony Ride (8mm toe to heel) with a comfortable instep a couple of years ago. My new shoe for the past couple of years was the Saucony Kinvara 4's (4mm toe to heel). It's a flatter shoe, lighter and now getting close to minimal, but not quite. Finally took the leap to an even lighter shoe, a shoe that makes your foot feel like it has no shoes at all! The New Balance Minimus

This is the Kinvara, by Saucony. Look closely at towards the heel and you can see the instep support.

I have flat-ish feet and this instep was perfect. With my previous Saucony Ride's, the 8mm was a bit too supportive so my foot wasn't working properly. Probably the reason for the numerous hamstring incidents.

A closer look at the instep on the Kinvara's to the right.

Now here's the Minimus, by New Balance. The first New Balance shoes I've ever bought and when I bought them in the store, they felt really good and light. I thought they'd be a great next step, because I really was trying to get to the most minimal shoe.




The Minimus

The sole is made by Vibram, same company that makes the Five Fingers shoe, the ultimate in minimalist running.

On this sole, you can "feel" the ground. It's really like you have no shoe. All the tiny bits of gravel on the pavement.

And it really is a very, very light shoe.

And I must say, this is the shoe that did me in. I think the lack of cushioning meant that my instep was working much harder, even though there's a 4mm heel-to-toe for both the Kinvara's and the Minimus, the total lack of cushioning was the difference.

So I'm back to the Kinvara's. I'll keep the Minimus for walking around in, but the amount of mileage I do requires a lot of cushioning.

Conditioning

It takes a really short time to lose conditioning. I didn't run from September 15 till October 2, that's 2-1/2 weeks of no running.

Before September 15, I was running 16.5 K at a 5:30 split and finishing in about 1 hour and 30 minutes.

When I got back to running on October 3, I decided to start with a shorter distance, I knew that I needed some time to build back, and so I was running 14.5 K. However the splits were really slow. Over 6 minutes per K and I was finishing just over 1 hour 30 minutes. I lost 2 K in that 2-1/2 weeks.

It's incredible to me how quickly you loose conditioning if you stop an activity. I suspect this conditioning loss is much faster as we age. If I were in my twenties, then a 2-1/2 week hiatus would mean nothing. Now that I'm closer to fifty, a week of no activity is a lot to lose.

I've been running consistently for about the past two weeks. I recently climbed back to 16.5 K but don't know if I will maintain this throughout the week. I suspect that I need one more week at 14.5 K, then try to run the rest of October, into November at 16.5 K. Once the snow starts, things will be decidedly very different.

Lessons learned:

• Even when injured, keep some level of activity. Walking, swimming and dancing.
• If the injury doesn't mean you have to stay off your feet, then don't keep track of the distance, pace or time.
• Meditate, sleep and eat well.
• Always take care of your legs, they are your greatest asset (at least as a runner).
• Stretch.

Running past 15

The air was slightly chilly at 5:00 am when I got out to run. But it was crisp and clean. The sprinklers around the building were still washing the grass, before the sun came out. My left instep was still sore, so I hobbled onto the sidewalk, favoring my left foot, stepping gingerly on it, but landing a little bit harder on my right foot.

Fall's fast approaching, summer seems to have given up. Normally at 5:00 am I can see a lot of light in the sky, the tell tale signs that the sun is inching its way up the horizon, climbing westward. But not today, the sun's lazy and it refuses to get up. Slowly dragging its feet out of bed, sort of like me.

The first K is hard. I'm still rigid, sore, sleepy and fighting the urge to get a few more minutes of sleep. The days are long and I'm anticipating a long day of work. Why am I up so early. I jog onto Widdicombe, the music playing from my mp3 player's making a difference. I'm not thinking of how tough the day's going to be. I'm beginning to relax.

Eglinton's busy. Already there are cars waiting at the stop light and even though its dark, the light from the brightly lit gas station's making a mockery of the sun. The street lights are bright also. I feel safer turning off Widdicombe, from the darkness. It's a short uphill run and I feel much better now. My legs are warmer even though I'm barely four-hundred meters from my building. That's one lap around a track.

But the gods are with me an I run through the green light to the other side of Eglinton, turning right, I'm heading west on the sidewalk. There's a bicycle path, but it's too dark and at this time I don't want to run into a raccoon, or a skunk. It's getting late in the summer and those animals are big and well fed.

It's so crisp and clear and I'm inside my head with my thoughts. It's times like this that I really enjoy running. I've upped my distance. My morning runs used to be about 11 k, about a couple of years ago. And back then I felt that I was really running well. But I injected a couple more k's last year making a 14.5 k run standard. It took a while to get used to that distance but eventually I did. It would take from 70 minutes on a really fast day, to 80 minutes. And so this year I've gone one step further. 16.5 k in the morning. I pace myself well, at 5 minutes 30 seconds per k. It's a 90 minute run.

The perfect distance, the perfect amount of running, the perfect time.

By the time I come back home, 6:30 am if I leave at 5, I feel a sense of real accomplishment. My mind's clear. I'm wide awake. I'm fatigued, but in a good way. A strong way. Not collapsing at the finish line, but pleasantly mellow, relaxed. Having meditated along the way, sometimes listening to music, sometimes dredging out the problems of the previous day, the previous week, the previous month, year and even life so far. Yes, there are times when I'm bouncing along and not even conscious of the fact that I'm running. The legs are on automatic pilot and my head's free to wander.

During those runs, I often think of how I started running. Of good running routes in Mississauga. Of running in Montreal. Of running in Kenya. How each run starts difficultly, moves into quiet meditation, through tiredness, sweat and fatigue and ends up with a feeling of being alive. That this life, is the only one that we have. How do I go from physical exertion to wonders of the spirit?

As much as I don't want to think about it, I know that all of this will one day end. My legs are carrying me today, but soon they won't be able to do it so easily. So today I celebrate them, and push them past the 15 k. One day soon, I'll be running a daily 20. I only have four more k to get there. With my current speed, that's an additional 20 minutes comfortably.

Keep running!

Forwards ever, backwards never.

I was chatting with a friend over lunch, just chatting. About how times have passed. It was only fifteen years ago, a time I remember like it was just yesterday, that we were running about, trying not to waste precious time. Things were chaotic, and we needed to get stuff done.

And stuff got done.

And now we're here, sitting having lunch and wondering what happened to all that stuff we got done. Is this how we want to be remembered?

To my friend, it was nostalgic to look back and think of times past, times that will never come back again. Wonder about the good things that are lost and comparing them with the confusion around us today.

For me it was the absolute opposite. I'd never want to go back to those days again. Not that they weren't good, but that the experience was had. Life was lived. Loves were lost. Opportunities were squandered. And I moved on. I'm here today because of the life that I've lived. If I were to go back to re-live it again, I'd end up right where I am right now.

So how many times do I need to go around? Only once.

But I do understand what my friend was saying. That this world isn't ours any more. Our world is gone. The world where we were free and loved to breath every single thing. We loved running and hanging out and living life without feeling that there was an end. Life had absolutely no end. Things were going to go on and on and on forever.

But now we see that they won't. And we're slightly sad that things will end.

Saturday's Run

I've been suffering from a sore instep on my left foot. The pain starts from just below the ankle, on the inside, to a point on the instep, but not directly under the foot.

It really hurts.

So I took a week off running, but even by the end of the week, the improvement was marginal. Still hobbling about, treading very gingerly on that foot.

But I've started running again. I start very slowly since it still hurts, but by the end of the first kilometer I'm not limping along. I'm still favoring that foot, but I'm striding and not thinking too much about it.

A couple of runs ago I wasn't able to do my regular 16.5 K route, but I'm back on track.

I suspect that in about a week from now I'll be back on track. I've got some strange, but potent, balm rub on the foot and ice. I think the ice is doing about 80% of the work and the balm is there for the 20% placebo encouragement. I've always been suspicious of balms and creams that aim to get rid of pain. I'm more of the "ingest medicine" type.

But if my Garmin watch is correct, some of the laps I did today were right on target at getting back to my old self.

Fire in Soweto...

Fire in Soweto,

Burning all the people...

.

.

Tell me where you going to go

When Voster come

Tell me where you're going to hide

When the Voster go

Sonny Okosun                           

I loved that song! Though I though that it had a more reggae beat to it, or perhaps the first recording that I heard was a remix.

Soweto was really on fire back then, Namibia too, Angola, Mozambique and Zimbabwe. We Africans needed to unite to reclaim our history. To reclaim our dignity and our right to enjoy the continent that gave birth to humanity. We Africans one.

The Runner's High

Back on top of the game. Running smoothly and easily. At that point, about an hour out, feeling light, heady, smooth. The ground moves easily under you, looking straight ahead, you feel bouncy.

The runner's high comes in fits and starts. Surging from the ground upwards, through your legs, into your hips and pushing you upwards.

It's easy to block out the world, forget everything, remember nothing. Just sail along smoothly. You've done your homework. Your body feels smooth and light. Your legs easily manage your body.

But just like you rose up, and soared, you must get back down to earth. Maybe it's reaching the crest of that hill. Your legs feeling the Newton's gravitational constant acting on every fibre. Your toes pushing up. Your mind fighting that urge to slow down, to stop.

So you take a deep breath. Close your eyes momentarily, not for very long. Just to send a message down to your body that all is well. We're here with you. We need you to keep going. Let's pull together.

And your legs say "thank you!" "Thank you for thinking about us." "We won't let you down." "Let's soldier on!"