Of Running and Transaction Costs

Like any self-respecting Economics student, I am quite proud of the stuff I study and am always eager to apply whatever I learn into my everyday life.

So I was running my usual 4.5km this evening, and was thinking about making these runs of mine a daily affair. How cool would it be to enjoy the nice evening breeze, feel the adrenaline pumping and shed kilos at the same time?

But then I also realised that I’ve made these “resolutions” multiple times, and they actually work rather well for a period of time. However, once there is a “shock” to my daily schedule, the running regime always stops. And why is that so? I look back at my previous failed attempts to understand why.

I started running religiously (again) after I weighed 73kilos, my double chin started showing, and nasty relatives commented on the circumference of my waistline. Add that to the fact I was living a sedentary lifestyle during the summer holidays doing FTB and staring at line after line of PHP code. So I downloaded the excellent Runkeeper app for iPhone, and started to run at least 5km every day. And it started working! My weight started dropping slowly but surely, and I no longer felt as lethargic as before.

Until school started. The fact that school started means the reintroduction of the daily commute, attending classes, doing projects and homework. And although I still desired to keep running and keep losing weight, somehow the runs just kept getting less and less and less and less frequent.

So here I was, trying to make sense out of this. It turns out, according to my theory, that doing any activity, such as running, requires transaction costs. Even though the cost/benefit thing for running everyday generally remained the same, starting to run required quite substantial transaction costs. For example, if I were to run in school, I probably only could run in the gym. To go to the gym, I had to remember to bring my shoes, bring an extra change of clothes and a towel, and ensure that my toiletries kit I keep in my locker is in good condition so I can bathe after the run. Also, when I come back home from school, I have to contend with soaking my now-stinky clothes for a while before throwing them into the washing machine, and hearing my parents complain why their clothes smell of fermented sweat even after three rounds in the washing machine.

Of course, running on a treadmill is a lot more boring and carries with it less utility than actually running outside, but those aren’t transaction costs per se.

During the holidays, whenever I needed to run, I could just strap on my shoes, go downstairs, and start running. When I’m at home, I’m already in running attire (singlet and shorts) most of the time, so the time difference from deciding in my head to run, to actually starting to run, is probably within 10 minutes. This constitutes very minimal transaction costs, as compared to the amount of planning and logistical issues I have to deal with should I decide to run in school.

Besides transaction costs, the opportunity costs of running also go up during term time. When you have to deal with homework, readings and projects, going to run doesn’t mean you simply waste 40 minutes of your time. The cool-downs, the bathing, the general I-feel-so-shagged-but-shiok-after-my-run is not exactly very conducive for getting back into your books and journal articles. And when school is in session, GPA is important! (Sorry Owen).

So there. Transaction costs and opportunity costs while running. I hope I tickled your intellectual faculties a little bit (no, not you, Googlebot). Now, back to studying Macroeconomics!