Ferrets, Running Ancestors, and Philosophical Assumptions

Yesterday I wrote about an article showing that ferrets do no produce endocannabinoids when they run and gently mocked the triviality of the finding. Although I posted it, I was not too happy with the quality of my work: it was slightly too heavy handed to let the absurdity speak for itself but not earnest enough to engage with all that irritated.  But I left it because  I am interested in any evidence about how we evolved as runners even if comparisons with the brain function of a small furry creature with little legs can't take us very far.

The reason I like reading about our running ancestors comes from when I first encountered the idea that we were more efficient than many other species over long distances. It was one of those little light bulb moments that made me think more clearly about our nature of animals. Until then I had tended to think we were a bit rubbish: others species were faster, had sharper teeth or claws and were more ferocious or stronger. In a fair fight we would lose but we could over-compensate with the use of cunning and tools.

Finding that ancestors were capable of chasing a gazelle all day until it became immobile was a revelation that made me realise that we were a big beast with physical capabilities to compete. Learning that before the development of spears we used to catch and then strangle the prey was even more astounding. It was clear we are nothing more or less than another species of animal with and evolutionary niche and its own adaptations.

This might not sound like a very unusual insight  (surely everyone knows that!) but it had to combat many teachings I had absorbed from childhood, all based on the underlying assumption of human exceptionalism. Humans were civilised, humans had language, humans had intelligence, humans were distinct from the rest of creation. All of these ideas were part of the ideology I imbued. To this was allied its natural partner the philosophy of dualism, which saw the mind and soul as separate from the body, so that the body's role was that of a vessel. 

It's funny how we have these ideas buried so deeply within us that we hardly notice. When something comes against them we tend to reject it without knowing quite why. That we could have been magnificent animals was such a challenge. That our bodies and mind are indivisible was another. But accept them I did. However once I had done that there was a corollary, a glimmer of a hope that I might have the potential to be a better animal than I thought I was. 

I am no longer convinced about the corollary (I am too far gone) but running is a way of working through these ideas.

2011 Streak Day 236 (Thursday Aug 25th): Attention

2011 Streak Day 236 (Thursday Aug 25^th): Walk - 2 miles, Time 45min,  Weather - grey

I stood and watched this for some time. The cat was one side of the garage roof whilst doves were on the other: preening, cooing, walking up and down. The cat was in tension as if every muscle was ready to spring, yet it was poised. The only thing that moved was its head, which followed every movement of the birds. It was in a state of high awareness yet the birds seemed oblivious to any danger.

I wanted to see what would happen.

My mind has been formed by watching too many cartoons and I imagined a Tom and Jerry scene, with the cat pouncing, missing and then flying over the edge -splat!. But real cats are a bit more canny than that.

The birds seem happy with a cat so close, maybe they are playing a game and backing their quick reactions.  For some reason they did not fly away.

In the end nothing happened. 

But whilst I was watching I was entranced by the balance of the cat and the way it was poised, ready for action. If as runners we are trying to be a good animal, we have a long way to go. Boy oh boy am I lumpen in comparison.

Evolved Skills

I like Brighton with its mixture of the shabby and the smart, the bohemian and the down-to-earth. It is the traditional seaside resort for Londoners and I can remember trips from my early childhood, so it is also a place full of subconscious associations. This year we went there for a traditional bank holiday outing, where we wandered round the Lanes, walked along the prom, messed around on the pebbly beach and finished with some comfort eating.

Along the way I saw a woman reading palms and telling fortunes with a notice saying she had been a clairvoyant for 36 years. That got me wondering how much experience mattered for a clairvoyant, surely their whole pitch is that they have a special gift? Maybe its like everything, they have to practice to get in the groove. I don't know but the materialist in me would be more impressed with a sign that said something like 'cabinet maker for 36 years'. Then I would know what sort of skills had been developed.

On the beach there was quite a strong breeze coming off the sea and I became fascinated watching the seagulls. Wings outstretched they hovered, almost still in the wind, then changed direction and swooped down with ease and pace. They were perfectly adapted animals and there was joy in seeing that. Grace in movement is an aesthetic pleasure.

I was reminded of George Sheehan's idea that running helps us become a good animal but looking round the beach and I wonder how many of us could move with grace. Probably not many, myself included - and I run quite a lot. But being a good animal is about something other than grace. It is about discovering how we evolved and how we how are bodies are adapted and when we run we do this by testing how long or fast we can go. We both look for our limits and try to find the most economical way to move.

I like the way this links with the theory that as a species we evolved to run long distances. (See this article from last year).

Bramble and Lieberman were not at all surprised that a man won the Man Versus Horse Marathon. It fits their hypothesis. Unlike many mammals, not to mention primates, people are astonishingly successful endurance runners, "and I don't think it's just a fluke," Lieberman says. He and Bramble argue that not only can humans outlast horses, but over long distances and under the right conditions, they can also outrun just about any other animal on the planet—including dogs, wolves, hyenas, and antelope, the other great endurance runners. From our abundant sweat glands to our Achilles tendons, from our big knee joints to our muscular glutei maximi, human bodies are beautifully tuned running machines. "We're loaded top to bottom with all these features, many of which don't have any role in walking," Lieberman says. Our anatomy suggests that running down prey was once a way of life that ensured hominid survival millions of years ago on the African savannah.

The seagulls swooping in the sky or Kenenisa Bekele running 10,000 meters are wonderful examples of animal motion. We on the beach are similarly evolved – just out of condition. Nevertheless we can all run and with practice get better. We can all get closer to our animal nature but even if we concentrated for every moment of every day for 36 years we would still not be able to tell the future.