Joggers Are People Too

There’s a stereotype that Canadians are the nicest people in the world. While it is true that we tend to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for everything and apologise so much that the word ‘sorry’ is now basically void of meaning, since having taken up jogging a couple weeks ago I am no longer confident that the stereotype still applies. Either Canadians have become less kind-hearted or they just really really hate joggers.

Toronto is well-known for having many parks and jogging/cycling trails throughout the city, and on my many jogs in the past few weeks I have seen dozens of people utilising these paths as well as running through residential areas. For the most part – in my experience at least – outdoor joggers are a peaceful sort, looking only to improve their health and vitality and enjoy the blooming spring that has finally arrived. We aren’t looking for a fight, and we will always yield the right of way to you and your stroller or puppy as the unwritten rules of the road dictate.

However, while running I have been treated to more than one disdainful glance, several full-on glares, and even one pair of angrily crossed arms combined with an angry scowl. While most people are content to arrange their features into cloudy looks of dismay as a runner approaches – which I can only assume is due to the fear of being literally run over – some people will aggressively lunge into your way in an attempt to trip you up, and people walking in pairs or trios will actively refuse to share the pavement. (For any sidewalk trolls out there, I’m just going to point out that I have never seen anyone trampled by a herd of runners, but I imagine these last two behaviours are a good way to make that happen.)

If people knew how to share, this never would have happened...

 Now as an asthmatic who wheezes like I just swam the English Channel when I climb a set of stairs, I know for a fact that anyone I approach while running will hear me coming. I house no illusions about being an attractive runner. When I jog my breathing sounds like Tony Soprano when he’s all worked up just before he whacks someone, so I know that you know I am behind you. Yet for some reason you refuse to share the sidewalk – the extra-wide North American style sidewalk, I might add – and I am left to fend for myself in the cycling lane or oncoming traffic.

Being treated with such ignorance time after time leads me to ask: when did we forget how to share? As Canadians we are constantly beaming with pride about being a peaceful, accommodating nation, so shouldn’t we be trying to live up to this reputation in our daily lives? Though I imagine this conundrum has something to do with the fact that we are primarily a vehicular traveling society – and I’m sure our reputation as ‘nice’ people would be completely turned on its head if the world knew about our road rage – it upsets me that because of this we seem to have forgotten common courtesy as pedestrians.

No one ever wants to be the cause of another person getting injured, especially a jogger who is minding her or his own business and attempting to enjoy some private fitness time. The sidewalk is big enough for everyone, and if people don’t start being more considerate I will not hesitate to immediately stop my run and lecture them Care Bears-style on the fact that ‘sharing is caring’.

When I go for a run, I’m not out to ruin your night. I’m happy to share the pavement, and if you could extend the same courtesy so I can enjoy myself rather than being constantly concerned for my safety, everyone would be better off. Joggers are people too, and I hope everyone will start to remember that as summer gets under way and the paths become more congested. Let’s start taking our reputation as ‘nice’ people a bit more seriously by letting our actions reflect that we actually mean those stock phrases we’re always.

CURRENTLY READING: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe.

Happiness is Just 100 Days Away

Lately I have been seeing the hashtag #100happydays everywhere on social media with people tagging photos, status updates, and videos proclaiming how happy they are. As someone who makes a concerted effort to be a positive person (I am a big fan of Gala Darling’s Radical Self Love concept, and I try to actively put together a ‘Things I Love Thursday’ list of the many blessings in my life), I became curious about this happiness challenge and wanted to learn more.

Thus I sought out the 100 Happy Days website which states that 71% of people who began the challenge – which essentially involves choosing your favourite social media platform and making a post about what is providing you happiness each day – failed due to lack of time. Yet a study produced by Business Insider Intelligence in 2013 revealed that Americans spend an average of 37 minutes per day on social media revealing that we obviously do have the time, and we are using it to browse or post on social media websites.

Yupp, I'm guilty of being Facebook addicted.

Obviously I am not against social media as I actively use Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, IdeasTap, etc. as platforms for personal and professional connections, but as someone who has studied communication and language, I am consciously aware of how these platforms are often used by people solely for the purpose of generating a false sense of self-esteem through carefully curating a positive online image which may not be reflective of someone’s actual life. (See this article on social media narcissism and low self-esteem from Scientific American for a slightly more compelling argument than ‘So I’ve noticed…’).

We’ve all experienced this in real life – the friend who talks a big game about how fantastic his/her life is, how things are going so so brilliantly, but then breaks down during a booze-soaked night out to confess through a faceful of tears that everything is falling apart (and by friend, I clearly mean my own emotionally delicate self). It only makes sense that this phenomenon has carried over into the virtual world where everything we say and do can be moderated to fit a standard of how we wish our lives could be. We spend hours carefully moulding our online presence to fit the idealisation of how we want others to view us, which is why my skepticism about the #100happydays fad has been so pronounced.

Of the many things bringing me happiness right now: rainbows and having seen Niagara Falls for the first time this weekend! (Also my lovely souvenirs from the weekend including a bottle of gin - made from grapes!, some Cabernet wine jelly, and a tin of organic pear and cranberry chutney. Yumm!)

Through having experienced the positive benefits of mindfulness in my own life, I can obviously understand the rewards of participating in such an exercise – a list on the website includes symptoms such as being in a better mood, feeling more optimistic, realising how lucky you truly are, and falling in love (aawww!) – yet I can’t help but remain wary of the fact that some people are not using the activity as a means of achieving inner peace but rather as a way to show their peers just how goddamn happy they are!

I would hope that most people are participating for the right reasons, as seeing photos of friends and loved ones having a good time on a night out, eating delicious food, playing with their pets, and just feeling great really does provide a boost of positivity on a dreary day. When all is said and done though, anyone secure in their emotions – happy or sad – should be able to process them without social media.

Other current happiness inducers: having discovered my dream house (this will be transplanted to England obviously), working like a madwoman on a novella, humid summer weather, and moody torch songs (currently humming: Thieves by She & Him and Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? by Amy Winehouse).

The moral of the story: let’s continue to bring on the positive, spread love and happiness and all those great things. But let’s do it for the right reasons: because we want the world to be a better place, and not because we want others to feel inferior.

CURRENTLY READING: Sweet Nothing by Carmela Circelli, an excellent book about taking back the pleasure of Being in a world where our existence has come to be defined by rushing through life and getting lost in the rat race of consumerism, technology, and materialism.