Maximising collective happiness

Muted sunrise backdropping Terrigal Haven this morning

After a morning 6km plod in light drizzle, during which my lower back gave me a lot of grief, I journeyed down to north Sydney for my weekly visit to see my son.  He is nearing the end of six months of chemotherapy, which is likely to be extended, but it is heartening to see his optimism and his condition seemingly stabilise.

Crackneck through this morning's drizzle

As usual, we started out with a walk in his neighbourhood, covering 6.5km as we discussed all manner of things.  One subject covered, which intrigues me as an economist, is what cost-benefit analyses are being done by governments as they impose restrictions during the pandemic.  I studied these issues many years ago, and have forgotten more than I remember, but I do know it is underpinned by seeking to maximise our collective happiness/utility.  There are trade-offs.  For example, how many jobs must be sacrificed to justify the saving of one life. Or, how many suicides or domestic violence incidents related to social-distancing must be tolerated to justify saving one life.  It's not hard to come up with plenty of such conundrums.

Pleasant trail through Willoughby during this morning's walk

In the current pandemic, the government is under enormous pressure to save lives.  The television imagery of overflowing hospitals and morgues rightly causes great consternation and empathy amongst the population.  However, the costs to the collective happiness of suicides, domestic violence, loss of education, etc., are less visible and evocative.

My guess is that the balance is weighted towards saving the lives and the hard-nosed calculations about trade-offs are not being made (though Trump has alluded to them).  But that's completely understandable and I'm not being critical.  It's very hard to argue that we should watch people die.  There'll be plenty of data for future PhD's in all of this.

Motivation to run

Why do people choose to run?  There's no one answer, and for most people, there will be a variety of reasons, often over-lapping and working in concert.  From my observation, the reasons include:

Social distancing on Wamberal Beach seen during an afternoon walk

Joy  Running is a primal and joyous activity that seems to be innate in all of us.  Just watch children play.  Its acceptance as a valid form of exercise gives adults an opportunity to do things that might otherwise be frowned on or considered, at the very least, strange, by society.  When I started running around the streets back in the 1960s, it was very unusual to meet others out running or walking for exercise.  We were almost looked on as eccentrics (despite the adulation given to the greats of the time such as Ron Clarke and Herb Elliott).  Now it is a very "legitimate" activity.

Physical Health  All of the weight loss, cardio-vascular, etc., benefits are well known, though the risks to the musculoskeletal system and internal organs cannot be ignored.  I have certainly had some problems, but even though I know my body has been damaged by my life of running, I also believe the physical health benefits and resulting quality of life have far outweighed the costs.

Terrigal Beach on this afternoon's walk

Mental Health  The stresses of life seem to abate while running and can make a difference to mood or be a circuit-breaker.  Personally, I always have trouble thinking deeply about any issue (or doing mental arithmetic) while running, and feel mentally cleansed by the effort involved.  This isn't always the case but, regardless, the "time out" of a run helps.

Goals  Run a marathon, do a time, win a competition, etc.  Setting and achieving goals, not only gives a sense of accomplishment, it also gives self-respect and earns the respect of others.

Community  Although many miles are done solo, there can be club-mates, mass fun runs, trips, post-race analyses, etc., that build a sense of community and shared experience.

I upped my recent standard running distance today to 7km.  It was only an extra kilometre, but another encouraging step.  It's hard to say why today was the day for stepping it up a little.  I just felt, when exercising and walking before the run, that my body was a little stronger and less injury-impaired.  It was still slow and hard work, but no obvious damage was done, and I'll very gradually try to step up the training volume from here.

Uplifting encounters

For our exercise today, Julie and I decided to take our new touring bikes for a 67km spin around Tuggerah Lake to our north.  We bought the bikes just before the domestic travel shutdown for an intended backroads and trails journey around Australia and they are built to carry heavy loads on rough roads, so are not particularly speedy.  Nevertheless, they are comfortable and go OK.  There's a possibility we could still fit the trip in this year if domestic travel restrictions are lifted by end-June, but after that weather will prevent a full circumnavigation until sometime in 2021.

It was a beautiful morning for a ride, clear and cool, and we enjoyed extensive views across the Lake to the Watagan Mountains and saw many others out exercising on foot and on bikes.  Everybody is doing their own thing, without meeting up, so it was a pleasant surprise to encounter some old friends while on the bike quite a long way from home.

First, there was local running legend, Romeo, who with partner, Robyn, we spotted unloading their kayaks on the Wyong River.  We haven't seen them for a long time so it was good to have a chat and catch up.  Chronic injuries prevent Romeo doing as much running these days, and judging by the fresh scars on his arms, he should probably also give up cycling.  Maybe kayaking is all he has left?  Just joking.  He's as tough as nails and someone you can never write off.

Not much later, we were riding along the bike path on the Tuggerah Straight and observed a runner ahead with a very familiar gait ... Steve.  I cycled quietly up behind him and said something like "Get out of my way you **** old fart, this is a bike path!", to which he replied (when he worked out who I was), "I would be too embarrassed to post a 6km run on Facebook!", which is what I did yesterday as part of a Club challenge.  There is nothing like trading insults with old running rivals on a beautiful Sunday morning.  Particularly, when you are not likely to see them in the flesh again for some time.  We had a good chat until he needed to turn off the path.

What's the end-game?

I have always been a news "junkie".  I like to know and understand what is going on in the world around me, and read online, on a daily basis, the Sydney Morning Herald, Reuters News (my old employer) and CNN, as well as watching and listening to US and Australian news and public affairs programs.

Terrigal Lagoon

Not surprisingly, I have become an avid consumer of all news about the Coronavirus COVID-19 pandemic, and in particular, look for information to help me understand how this is all going to unfold.  I have little doubt, as an economist by training, that the economic effects will last as long as a decade.  But, in the short-term, my focus has been more on how government restrictions to control the virus spread will impact life.  How long will there be tight social-distancing restrictions?  How long until large outdoor groups gather again for sporting events? How long until we can travel domestically?  Internationally?

Windsor Road

Government experts tend to avoid making longer-term predictions for understandable reasons, but private experts need not be as constrained.  This morning, on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation's AM program, I heard, for the first time, some private sector experts -  Professor Peter Collignon, professor of microbiology at the Australian National University, and John Daley, Chief Executive of the Grattan Institute - outline a very credible version of what the virus end-game will look like for Australia.

Tight social-distancing will remain in place until community transmission is very low and until widespread testing is available for anybody showing the slightest symptoms along with excellent contact tracing [I'm guessing the government is hoping 6-9 months ... after the winter].  After that, restrictions may gradually be eased to the extent that businesses can resume operating [I'm guessing cafés, restaurants, pubs, personal care, gyms, family gatherings, etc. ...... maybe up to 10 people observing the 4 square metres] but will need to remain in place until a vaccine is available and everybody has been inoculated (12-18 months).  International travel may be banned until that time or longer, depending on what is happening elsewhere in the world.

Looking towards Wamberal from Terrigal

For Julie and me, that means Plan B (bike trip around Australia) might be possible in 2021 and Plan A (the Continental Divide Trail in the US) in 2022.  But will I still be capable of executing Plan A in two years?

At least I seem to be on the right fitness trend (from my low base).  This morning's 6km run with Julie was the fastest and least painful for three weeks.  It was still slow and hard work, but there's a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

Is the honeymoon ending?

The COVID-19 pandemic has changed everybody's lives.  People and governments are doing previously unimaginable things to slow the spread of the virus and save lives.  The domination of the news and social media by the pandemic has created a sense of anxiety, fear and excitement.

Willoughby Road pre-dawn.

Some of the changes imposed on us have altered our lives significantly, generally for the worse, but the novelty of our changed lives and the frisson of being involved in a once-in-a-hundred-years event, have dampened the effects.  We all have something to talk about, even if from a distance.

There has been a honeymoon period during which photos have been posted of home-schoolers, inventive exercising and so on, but I fear the ameliorating effects of novelty are wearing off.  The jobs to do around the house are fewer, and more thought has to be put into identifying productive activities.  I have heard US politicians discussing the boarding up of shops and businesses in anticipation of the public's patience wearing thin after two weeks of restrictions there.

Terrigal Promenade at sunrise.

In the absence of a vaccine, or the ready availability, community-wide, of efficient testing, I don't see why these restrictions won't be in place for six to twelve months for most of us.  And we haven't yet seen, in Australia anyway, the mood-draining death tolls associated with the virus.  I think the worst is yet to come, and we are just at the "phoney war" stage experienced after World War II was declared.  Our patience has yet to be really tested.

My 6km jog this morning was a little more painful, and slower, than yesterday's.  Should I have just walked?  Who knows, but it is hard to miss days when your fitness is so poor and all you want to do is get back to painfree and enjoyable running.

Reputational damage

One of the dilemmas my running club, Terrigal Trotters, faces because of the COVID-19 pandemic, is the risk of reputational damage if members are seen to be continuing meet and run from Terrigal, especially on our traditional Saturday mornings.

The view from Terrigal promenade this morning

Members have always come to Terrigal to run, either individually or in groups, on all days of the week, and some of us actually live in Terrigal.  The location has a lot going for it as a running base - the spectacular coastal scenery, the nearby forested Kincumba Mountain, a choice of flat and hilly courses, The Haven with its grassy playing field and the daunting Skillion ascent, and of course, the cafés.

Terrigal is usually busy with people meeting to run and walk, and Trotters form only a minority of those, but we are a known "feature" of Terrigal beach life and people often assume runners are Trotters.

With the explosion in the numbers of people exercising outdoors in the last few weeks, the Terrigal promenade has become very busy, particular on Saturday mornings.  People who have exercised (or not) often tend to loiter drinking coffee and chatting.  Most do stand the required 1.5 metres apart.  Some of them are known to be Trotters by locals and there is a fear that the Club may be judged as ignoring social distancing requirements.

Personally, I think that common sense has to be applied.  So long as the Club is clear in its communications with members that they must observe social distancing requirements and encourages them to run from their homes, we are fulfilling our obligations.  We are not the police.

My 6km jog on my regular route around Terrigal Lagoon was a little faster today, and if I was an optimist, I might think my injury is healing.  But I have become a cynic when it comes to my rehab abilities.  I have been caught out too many times on comebacks, so won't believe it until another few weeks of running passes with continued improvement.

Treats

Part of my retirement routine has been to journey to the local mall one morning per week (but occasionally two), do my weekly shopping, have a choc chip muffin and milkshake from the Muffin Break in the foodcourt (while reading the news on my tablet), and maybe go see a movie at the Senior's discounted rate.  The Muffin Break staff know me so well that often my order is waiting for me by the time I reach the till!  Not a bad life really.

I always feel better about the treats if I have had a hard morning run, but not surprisingly, haven't managed to scale back the treats when injured and running little.  I do feel guilty about that, and my waistline shows it, but I also believe you shouldn't beat yourself up for straying from the straight and narrow when dealing with injury or other difficult circumstances.  Hopefully, when the injury recovers, the waistline and guilt will both diminish.

No trouble finding a parking spot at the mall

I plodded the usual 6km around Terrigal Lagoon this morning, feeling marginally better and running marginally faster, but still far short of the effort needed to justify a muffin and milkshake.  Neverthess, I later journeyed to the mall, which was the quietest I have ever seen it in sixteen years of visiting.  With the foodcourt seating gone and patronage minimal, the Muffin Break looked forlorn.  Closer examination revealed a small and sorry collection of muffins, but I still got my choc chip, as well as a milkshake to go.  Then it was off home to dine.  I felt very sorry for the proprietor and hope he's going to manage to stay afloat until life returns to normal.