I’ve figured out a new way to have fun, burn off energy and relieve stress. I call this new method R.E.L.I.E.F. (Run Everywhere Like an Infant Entreating Friends) and the philosophy was inspired by my nearly-three-year-daughter Sophia. A few days ago it struck me that Sophia runs everywhere, for everything, no matter how tired she may be or frivolous her destination is.

For example:

“Sophia,” I call out. “Come and get your Flintstones Vitamin,” and her little knees reach higher and higher until she’s at my side.

“Sophia,” I say, “there is a telemarketer on the line that wants to sell me a shinny new vacuum for $2, 000,” and bang, she speeds down the carpeted hallway, into my office, elbows cranking and nearly out of breath. “Kind of vacuum?” she quizzes.

“Sophia,” I yell. “Come and pull Daddy’s finger,” no matter how many times she’s previously fell for this, like Carl Lewis she sprints to me, pulls said finger, and then sprints away with a little more dedication.

I’ve been applying this new philosophy in small increments in my life, usually for menial task and at inappropriate times. Yesterday I ran like the law was chasing me, away from my car, into the bank, right up to the teller and withdrew $1.37. The teller asked me what my hurry was and I told her ‘life is short’ and booked back to my car.

It’s great fun, acting like your crazy (though all of us aren’t acting) and it really gets the blood pumping. This morning I trekked to the nearby Wal-Mart to buy razors, bandages and some bottled water (don’t ask.) I flung my door open, raced through the parking lot and dove headfirst through the sliding glass entrance.

“Welcome to Wal-Mart,” said a heavyset greeter.

“Ready,” I shouted at him as I sprung to my feet, “Go!” and I sprinted past him and into the store. Wal-Mart, I now know, frowns on re-creations of O.J. Simpson’s Avis commercials, but I still had fun.

Try it sometime. When the boss-man says “Smith, run to the store and buy some envelopes, some Juji Fruits and a gallon of paint thinner,” do just that, run. Kick Larry from accounting in the chest as you hurdle his desk and give Barbara the receptionist a strong elbow to the kidneys as you dart past the copy machine. Then Push through your company’s front door and into freedom with the theme song from Chariots of Fire pumping through your brain. You’ll feel great and what a R.E.L.I.E.F. (This acronym really rocks!)

I wouldn’t advise the self-medicating crowd to attempt R.E.L.I.E.F. as jumping from your bar stool and blazing through the door of the Alcan and into traffic might be a relief to some, but probably not to you.

Another draw back of R.E.L.I.E.F.’s is that if you’re out of shape (I’m in shape, but it’s an egg-shape) you might be one double-cheeseburger and brisk jog away from a heart attack. If, during your running, you feel an uncomfortable pressure, fullness, squeezing or pain in the center of your chest that lasts for more than a few minutes, try my other stress-relieving method called S.Y.A.D. (Sit Your Ass Down.) To be safe, check with a doctor before you run through Southgate Mall like your undines are on fire.

So far I am finding great relief with R.E.L.I.E.F. and like my hero Forrest Gump once said:

“I was running.”

And I am.