Only 3 different kinds of problems?

One of the books that I am currently reading is "The Checklist Manifesto" by Atul Gawande. It is non-fiction (the only kind of book i read), and pretty much tries to convince the reader that everything can be broken down into a checklist, and this will make tasks more efficient, safe, etc. etc.

I won't bore you with the details; I am actually not far enough into the book to give it a fair review. I do, however, want to share a few ideas with you that are presented early in the book.

Gawande proposes that there are really only 3 different kinds of problems which we face: simple, complicated, and complex.

• Simple problems are those akin to baking a cake from a mix. Simple and few steps, pretty much guaranteed success if you follow the recipe.
• Complicated problems can be likened to launching a rocket to the moon. It can be broken down into several simple problems, and once success is achieved, you can pretty much follow the same steps with other rockets and expect success.
• Complex problems are ones like raising a child: "Although raising one child may provide experience, it does not guarantee success with the next child". Outcomes remain highly uncertain.

Think about the problems that you face in your life. Can they be grouped into these categories? Can the more difficult ones be broken down into smaller problems?

If your problems are like mine, most of them can be hacked into smaller pieces. I will be looking to find which ones have the highest possibilites of success, and do at least ONE THING every day to move toward resolution.

I invite you to do the same.

 

Leave it out there

One of the reasons that I run is to clear my head. Or, more accurately perhaps, organize my head. Some people write in diaries (men write in journals, not diaries. just fyi. or, i suppose, blogs...). Other people work with animals, tend gardens, fish, cook, talk with friends, or pay to talk to a stranger. Last year, for Chirstmas, I received an oval bumper sticker that has become one of my favourites. I also recieved it as a magnet. I believe that someone was trying to tell me something, or perhaps giving me a way to accept and proclaim something that I believe to be true:

And i do believe this. Not only cheaper, but for me, better. It is almost always available, can be intense or relaxing, doesn't always require an appointment in advance, can be done in group or individually, and, except for races, doesn't require a co-pay. One of the aspects of it that I have been very fortunate to be able to use is the 24/7 'emergency help line'. Take this past Saturday evening, for example:
Up until the incident, I had been having a pretty fantastic day: Z had a football game in the morning, during which he made his first ever pass reception, and it was for a 1st down, gain of 13 yards. The team lost, but Z and we were very thrilled. After the game T and I helped staff the snack shack for the 7th grade game. Did some shopping after that, and then got chores done at home. All's good! I was planning and making a really good dinner for us, and looking forward to sitting around the table eating good food. T and Z were out getting new sneakers, and she had just sent a text saying that they were headed home. Perfect! Timing on dinner was great. I was psyched.
And then it happened. I won't go into details, but several of my buttons were pushed in about 15 seconds. Way too much for me to handle, even with the good mood that I was in. In the (not so distant ) past, I would have 'engaged' and escalated the situation way beyond the scope of what it was all about. In fact, I would have turned it into something that it wasn't, and made it much, much worse. For everyone.
But I didn't. Instead, I sent a text message to T and said, "please hurry, I need to leave." An eternity few minutes later she called back to see if all was ok. I gave her a brief run down, and she said that they were almost home. I took this time to change into my running clothes, gather some water and music. When she arrived I told her where dinner was in the process, thanked her very much for understanding, apologized for 'ruining' dinner, and left.
I went to a local bank's headquarters. They have a new, well lit parking lot that serves nothing but that building. I parked, sent a text message to T to let her know where I was, fired up the mp3 player, and started to run. One lap, as it turns out, is only .14 miles. I decided to listen to one of AudioFuel's newest offerings, a 180 bpm max interval session. See it here. (Get it. You'll thank me later). I ran the entire time, which was tough. But here's what made it possible:
I left it all out there in the parking lot. At the beginning of the run, while I was sorting out the best line to run, figuring out where to put the water, jacket on, jacket off?, my mind was swimming, nay, drowning in thoughts of what had nearly happened at the house. Old things were coming up, feeding my frustration and anger. Remember that story about the old Cherokee that I shared a few posts ago? Well, I was definitely feeding the wrong wolf. And he was winning.
So I decided to push myself through the session. Focus on the session. Listen to the music, listen to the voice coaching, wonder if the cleaning people were watching this raving lunatic run circles in the parking lot. As I ran, it got 'easier'. The intervals lasted 3 minutes, and I enjoyed them. Yes, the high end ones were tough. But I felt better. In a recent magazine ad, I noticed the following statement. I am sure that many of you have seen it, too:

"Running won't solve your problems, but you'll both feel lighter when you get back."