“Never theorise before you have the data. Invariably, you end up twisting facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.” Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes
28th Feb – Days to go on 100 days dry: 43. Days until the Dartmoor Way: 76
I read a story once about a horse that could count. Well, actually more than that, the horse could do simple arithmetic and ‘other intellectual tasks’. When presented with questions, the horse would tap out the answer with his hoof, stopping at the right answer. The story of ‘Clever Hans’ goes on to say that this horse demonstrated an advanced level of number sense in an animal. There was special interest in this as it seemed to be irrefutable proof of Darwin’s theory of evolution and natural selection.
Except a psychologist called Oskar Pfungst (no, really), proved in 1907 that Hans the Horse, clever as he was, wasn’t doing mental arithmetic at all, but taking his cue from involuntary body language from his trainer.
“What is 2 plus 5 Hans?” The trainer, Wilhelm von Osten, would ask the horse. Clever Hans would start to tap his hoof, when he reached the seventh tap, von Osten would react, probably without knowing it and the horse, reacting to this, would stop tapping. Clever Hans was indeed clever, just not in the way that his trainer was advertising it. Horses are amazing creatures.
I was reminded of this story, which is a derivation of the observer effect, on Sunday, as I had planned to take the weekend off to get some stuff done, reset, relax and re-energise. I spent Saturday doing all of the chores that I usually put off, washed the car, got some admin-y stuff taken care of, and even walked the 2 miles into town to get my hair cut rather than drive, as is usual, but woke up on Sunday morning feeling a little rough.
I had already planned to complete my first 20 minute run on Sunday, as I switch from the NHS #couchto5k to a personlised program that will take me to a 6 min / km pace over 5k. So I set out wondering whether this would clear my stuffy head and recharge my energy.
The run was epic. The pace was set at between 7:50 and 8:20 min / km. Which felt like a snails pace to begin with. But I was able to keep that going for the duration. Even up some of the milder hills around me. My first clue that something was slightly off however, was when I got home. Stretched out after the run, I raided the fridge for my obligatory dose of chocolate milk, which whilst it was cold and a little sweet, didn’t taste like chocolate. I mean at all.
So the test came back positive within seconds of the droplets hitting the test and I am now officially a statistic.
So my question to myself was, which came first, the decision to take the weekend to recharge, or the virus forcing my hand? I decided on Weds to hit the pause button, but I think I picked up the virus on Tuesday. Who knows. I am grateful that I didn’t go out on a 7 hour walk, only to crash out in some remote spot. Thankfully, I am experiencing this at a time when we know so much more. I am grateful that I didn’t contract this terrible affliction at its peak.
This week the running program takes in 3 training runs, a ‘pace repeat’; 400 meters at race pace, followed by 200 meters at a light jog, repeated 6 times. Then 2 easy runs over a longer distance to build stamina. The aim of this is to complete a 5k park run a week before the Dartmoor trip, in 30 minutes. Good to have goals.
“By all means, move at a glacial pace, you know how that thrills me.” Miranda Priestly, The Devil Wears Prada
