On the nature of happiness

Millennium Bridge York

You wake up, realise you have woken up, and that's it: you won't sleep again. Which is not the same as getting up. Instead, a list of things you might do today goes through your mind. Certainly some cleaning up should be part of this day's activities, but there was also this little voice telling me that I have agreed to run in the Batavierenrace relay race with the Formal Methods and Tools group next year, so shouldn't I do something about that?

Habits are quickly formed, including habits of not following up on good intentions. Knowing this, when I did get up (7:30, no shame there) I changed into running gear and soon went to join the ranks of the Secret Society, who in fact were not yet to be seen in great numbers. It was grey and overcast, slightly drizzly, but warmer than a few days before: quite nice weather to be running in, actually.

Beware, beware!

I decided to take a different route than last time, meaning a somewhat longer run. This involved crossing the Ouse over the Millennium Bridge (they have one of those here, too!) and going through the fields that the Open Street Map showed me must be there. Nearing the fields I was a bit surprised at the amount of activity there: cars convening in numbers, and this at 8:00 in the morning. The reason soon became clear: what I had taken to be fields is actually the York Racecourse, Knavesmire, which has been in existence since... 1731! Wow! The large industrial-type building that I had seen from a distance actually turned out to be a truly enourmous, four-story grandstand.

Going on past the track and back again along the river, it occurred to me that this period might be one of those of which you later think: I was happy then. So let me record this here and now: I am happy doing what I am doing, being where I am. Of course this begs the question what this happiness is made up of: which of my current circumstances are important ingredients? On the negative side: of course I am somewhat lonely, but being a solitary person by nature this does not affect me as it might others. (That might change as time passes.) On the positive side: I have utter freedom, and so far I feel that the use I have made of that freedom is working out well. Add to this the absence of stress, and I think you have the right mixture. (Maybe the absence of stress would already do it all by itself.)

Back at the apartment, the inevitable could no longer be put off and I set to vacuuming, dish washing, bathroom scrubbing and laundering. The latter involved using the facilities on campus, employing the laundromat card I am borrowing from my "landlord". In turn this means three trips: one to bring the washing and put it into the washer, one to transfer it from washer to dryer, one to get it back. Not really a problem but it keeps you occupied for a couple of hours. It turns out I had made quite a conservative guess of the size of the machines, so I could have put in my bed cover to get rid of the synthetic smell (thank you Zeeman), but that will have to wait until next time.

Their flashing eyes, their floating hair!

Since this is turning into a long post, I will cut it into two parts. On the matter of the race track however, let me mention here that I went back later to take some more pictures, only then discovering that there was really a major event going on, with at least 5000 people in attendance: the Coral Sprint Tropy, which is a finale of sorts. (Not being English, I think I am allowed to be a complete ignoramus.) I even caught the first race in the act: it is totally straightforward to walk up directly next to the track, so that is what I did.