Swift meditation.

In ten or twenty years, when the person I have become reads this blog, I have no doubt that he will be shocked and outraged that he could be associated with a person like me. I feel the same way when I read the brief diary I kept on a short trip I and some friends took to Bolivia just after our GCSEs. We spent most of the time touring the diverse and spectacular landscape, from salt plains to rainforest, by boat, bus, plane and on foot.

The trip had two large impacts on my life; first, it helped me recognise in a small way how the same humanity I see in myself and those I know well is also found, radically transformed, in other cultural settings, and how the simple joys of life do not rely on the material securities in which we often ground them. Second, and more mundanely, to get fit in readiness for the high altitudes, I began to run. Running has now expanded to become an integral part of my life, and it is this much easier topic that I'll talk about here.

When I first started, I could barely keep going for 2 minutes together, even at a jog. I've been steadily improving since then and I'm pleased that I haven't yet reached my limit. I now normally run 3 times a week, for about an hour, on a variety of routes. I only occasionally run competitively, and though I'm encouraged by my clear improvements I'm still nowhere near the front of the pack.

I run, in increasing order of importance;

• To keep fit. As ways of staying fit go, running is simple, flexible and cheap.
• For the beauty. This consists not just in the magic of the landscape but the freshly-patterned sky set free from the buildings which cage it in in the town.
• To get away. When I'm running, I can't worry about work or life, and I don't have to.
  
• For the buzz. As ways of getting high go, running is simple, flexible and cheap.
• For the willpower. By experimenting in this toy setting, I've learned how to 'force my heart and nerve and sinew to serve their turn long after they are gone'.
  

A final aspect of running raises an odd moral problem. When I run, I'm often in pain. This is my body's way of saying it wants to slow down. So I lie to myself, saying that the pain is unrelated to the running, and would carry on in any case. This barefaced lie is enough to fool the system in my brain which otherwise would override my desire to keep going and bring me to a wheezing halt. I'm not too worried by this; I think the bit of myself that I'm fooling is non-conscious and so I have no obligations to deal honestly with it.

Where, though, is the line to be drawn? How deeply can I delude myself without hypocrisy? Do I have an obligation to correct my natural tendencies to fool myself (for example, about how likely a marriage is to last for life)? I don't know. As with other moral issues, I err on the side of caution, and of doing no harm. What I do to myself when I run is about as far as I'd be prepared to go.

Long time, no say.

Since I've hardly posted anything here since before the summer holiday, I'll give a summary of some of the stuff I got up to.

First, I went with some fellow category theorists to Calais, for a conference. This was a really great experience. I was pleased to find that I could (with a little effort) follow most of the talks, and reconstruct those that I hadn't followed at the time. The range of topics was extraordinary, and all were extremely interesting. The main problem I had was with seeing the motivation of some of the talks; the speakers were addressing problems which had arisen slightly before I got involved and which I hadn't come across.

The other great thing about this conference was the opportunity to get to know some of the other students in the category theory community. Some were friends with whom I'd lost touch, others were completely new. It was good to spend time with people who care about the same mathematical issues. I can't wait until this conference rolls around again. Excitingly, there will also be a major category theory conference in Cambridge next year, in honour of Peter Johnstone and Martin Hyland.

Shortly after this, I visited Wales with some friends. We stayed in a youth hostel, and went on several enjoyable walks. The scenery was beautiful, and the weather mostly stayed fine, though we did get lost in the mist at one point, where the path disappeared. Thankfully, the land was sufficiently bumpy that we were able to find our way by navigating by the contours.

From there I went on to join the trinity lake hunt. This is a glorified game of tag over an area of a few square miles in the heart of the lake district. A few runners, designated 'hares', are given hunting horns and a half-hour head start. They have to blow the horns every couple of minutes and try to avoid getting caught by the 'hounds', that is, everyone else. Since I was only able to be there for a couple of days, I was made a hare: An exhilerating experience.

Finally, after a little time at home, my family and I spent 2 weeks in Scotland (my brother was only able to make the second week). We spent our time on gentle walks through the beautiful and diverse landscape, with some pauses to admire the birdlife and other wildlife. We saw a glut of eagles on Mull and were particularly thrilled by a close-up sighting of red-throated divers fishing in the sea.

Since then I've been in Cambridge, working on my PhD and amusing myself in between times with various other activities, which I'll discuss in the next couple of posts.