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COVID, week 10 and a gentle reminder that the virus doesn’t care about your feelings

COVID, week 10 and a gentle reminder that the virus doesn’t care about your feelings

Apparently I’m late to the party here, but it just occurred to me within the past week or so that my kids only have a couple weeks of school left before summer break begins. Needless to say, with the current homeschooling/distance learning/MomSchool setup we have going, the transition from what remains of the school-year (and thus, some semblance of the notion of “structure” in our day) to the summer will be … interesting. 

throwback to the last day of school for the 18-19 school-year. we’ll do a reenactment this year (and throw in a preschool promotion/graduation/step-up for the little one)

Summertime with the kids, all day, every day, in the absence of all the usual summertime activities (camps, sports, parks, amusement parks, libraries, the beach, visiting family on the other side of the country, and the like) is overwhelming to consider. Like anyone else, I’m eager to see how and where and which parts of SJ (and by extension, of SCC) open during the coming weeks and months. Vaguely thinking about what the heck the kids and I will be doing for all the long summer days and nights, even (but especially!) under moderately or severely-modified circumstances, makes my head spin. (And obviously, it goes without saying that I love my children deeply and unconditionally, but I’m also acknowledging the difficulty that comes with parenting two young children all day, every day, as one’s main occupation. Clearly, I am privileged enough at this point to stay at home and not have to juggle the demands that come with managing work and home. That said, this shit is hard and demanding. The mental load that accompanies full-time, all-day, it-is-my-actual-job of mothering — as well as the even less talked about guilt for having angst toward said mental load — is fierce).  

According to Dr. Cody, our county’s medical health director, SCC will slowly begin to enter phase 2 that Governor Newsom outlined in previous weeks by Friday of this week. As I understand it, it means that retail can begin to open with curbside pickup options, that associated manufacturing can open, and that car parades can happen (for graduations, special events, or whatever) with some restrictions (no bicycles or motorcycles in the parade, only household members can ride in a car, and the like). In other words, we’re passing another week with not a lot of huge change, as far as I can tell, which is fine.

Anyway. Despite everything that I’ve already described — particularly about how tough all of this is and has been for those of us navigating it with young kids — a) my luck’s still not lost on me that my family and I are in the position that we’re in and b) I’d rather that we (societally) do things right the first time around, instead of kowtowing to pressure and profoundly and royally screw ourselves and needlessly hurt or kill people. It’s hard to be patient, sure, but people’s lives are literally on the line here. All of us (probably) know someone who has been deemed an “essential employee,” someone who has been going to work throughout all of this, and as much as we’re all feeling our feelings, imagine what they’re thinking every single day when they report to work and later come home. 

A little perspective can go a long way sometimes. 

I know it’s super challenging to stay the course during this shelter-in-place time, and that so many of us are getting tired and salty and frustrated (and whatever other emotions we’re feeling — all valid, by the way), but the fact of the matter is that we’re dealing with a virus that has no feelings and is literally incapable of caring how we feel about our modified lifestyles right now. 

Yes, thinking about “doing summer” with my kids at home most of the time (or more than what we’re usually home, anyway) is intimidating; yes, thinking about an impending summer where we may not have as much out-of-the-house-fun to look forward to can be depressing; and sure, trying to “do life” still can be mega frustrating right now because none of us are getting the answers to our most pressing questions (how much longer do we have to do this??????) and our national leadership seriously leaves much to be desired… but again. Perspective. 

What will history and thus, future generations, make of all of this, of all our actions (or inactions), of where we threw our time and energy and priorities as we tried/are trying to navigate this whole new world for which we have no real blueprint or playbook on which to base our decisions? I’m of the mindset that science should be guiding policy here, not money, but I also acknowledge that that’s a hard sell for many in our ridiculously embittered and politicized society in the states right now.   

Deep breath. 

So. Another week behind us, another week of MomSchool down, another big volume week of running (70+ miles and lots of climbing), another week of feeling all the feelings (some conflicting), and another week of (despite aforementioned feelings) being grateful for my family’s and my health, all the while thinking of those who are doing so much for our society right now.  

Here’s your friendly weekly reminder that it’s (still!) ok to be feeling all the feelings with all of this, but for everyone’s sake, we also have to remember that this virus doesn’t give a damn if we’re “tired of it.” We can’t just arbitrarily decide today, tomorrow, or next week that life can go on as normal, like everything we’ve done for the past ~10 weeks, was for naught simply because we’re “over” all of this.

Time is moving both glacially slow and dizzyingly fast. 

On occupying time and settling mental unrest:

Reading. Talk about emotional whiplash: I went from reading Melinda Gates’ The Moment of Lift last week to reading and finishing Ali Wong’s Dear Girls this week. Admittedly, I know who Ali Wong is, but I’ve never seen any of her stand-up specials on Netflix or anything that she has written or produced. The book was funny enough though (and super crass and raunchy, which I guess is her style?). I just began Dr. Murthy’s super prescient book, Together, and so far, so good. 

Watching: War Games. I have no idea what inspired us to watch this with the kids last weekend, but it was entertaining. Young Matthew Broderick!

Running: Wolfpack hosted an elevation challenge Thursday through Sunday last week, and I posted over 5,000 feet (and over 7,000 for the week), strictly running from my home since I don’t want to drive anywhere to run during SIP. All the climbing was super fun and made for a sore booty (which has since transferred to a sore high hamstring) and a ~73 mile week, a new high during this COVID-filled time (and the most I’ve run in a week in a long time). Needless to say, after building and building for the past 9 weeks, including back-to-back-to-back 100k+ weeks, it’s time for a cutback.  

from Wolfpack’s UpUpandaMay challenge last week

A’s 5k training is going well, too, and she has done well with the bump from 25’ thrice weekly to 30’. She’s having a lot of fun and seems to enjoy the structure that training gives her. I’ve signed her up for some kids’ virtual challenges that races here have organized, like Girls on the Run Silicon Valley, the Kids’ Summer Wharf Challenge from Wharf to Wharf, and Big Sur International Marathon Foundation’s JUST RUN! Challenge. She’s pretty excited about all the opportunities, even in the absence of a traditional race setting.  

Cooking: Tacos have now gone the way of bowls, so it’s nothing exciting or especially pretty but damn delicious (and so easy to customize). In exciting news, we have flour! A has been itchin to make edible cookie dough, so she was thrilled.  

Listening: Lots, and always while I’m running; I’m pretty sure I’ve inadvertently created a Pavlovian effect on myself. A sampling from the past week-plus that I can remember: International Women’s Day panel on Ali on the Run; Lindsay Crouse on the Clean Sport Collective; No Stupid Questions (a new podcast!) and their first episode, “Did COVID-19 kill the handshake?”; Amelia Boone’s old episode (October ‘19) and new episode (last week) on I’ll Have Another, as well as Michael Wardian’s episode on the same; Freakonomics’ episode on what college will look like in autumn ‘20; and “the art and practice of science” on the Growth Equation, last week’s episode. That’s what I can remember, anyway.   

Hang in there, friends; take care; and be well. xo

COVID, week 9 and Ahmaud Arbery

COVID, week 9 and Ahmaud Arbery

How many different ways can a weekly blogger write another week of Shelter-in-Place life, not much going on, kids are fine, husband’s fine, I’m running a lot, California is kinda opening, but it doesn’t apply to the Bay Area or to Santa Clara County, specifically…? Asking for a friend.

At one point in the not-too-distant past, on a video call with my sister and mom (and maybe with my brother and my sister-in-law… ? or maybe this was over two conversations?), the conversation stooped to the new low of me showing off the growth and progress of my two AeroGardens and of the lemon tree on the balcony. If you think watching paint dry is riveting, wait ‘til you see plants grow!! 

Jest aside, yes, we’re all fine and well. Our luck isn’t lost on me. The aforedescribed in the first paragraph still applies, in that everyone is healthy and well, life is still under the strict SIP orders in SCC, and I’m running a lot (back-to-back 100k+ weeks) for no other reason than because I can, I enjoy it, and I’m grateful. Those are all reasons enough. 

As has been the case for the better part of … a long time now, I am enormously grateful for the position my family and I are in, and if the best thing we can do is to stay home, physically distance ourselves from folks with whom we do not reside, check in on loved ones from afar, and wash our hands prolifically, then consider us champs. Good vibes are still flowing from me to anyone — my family and friends included — who are working on the front lines of all of this. I so wish my good vibes could inoculate you but dammit if I ain’t gonna try.  

ever wonder what happens when you accidentally run a squishy toy through the washing machine? behold.

…and in a world that’s up to its ears in COVID everything, you’d think shit couldn’t get worse than it is, and then you’d realize at the end of last week that you — like most everyone else — completely missed the story about Ahmaud Arbery’s murder. The story — the fact that his murder happened in February, and it wasn’t until last week (May!) that his murderers were jailed — rocked the running world in no small part because he was shot and killed while he was out for his standard, daily, nothing-unique-about-it run.

That’s terrible in and of itself, but as it becomes abundantly clear as soon as you read about it, you learn that he wasn’t shot because he was running but because he was black and running. He was killed for running while black. 

Let that sink in.

Did we mention that he was gunned down on video, too? Because, yeah, … that, too.  

The story is heart-wrenching and disgusting and profoundly terrible, and it has sent shock waves through the greater global runner community, with many people (including me) dedicating part of their runs on Friday — what would have been Ahmaud’s 26th birthday — to his memory. That’s nice, and thoughtful, but obviously it is insufficient (and offensively so). There’s so much to unpack here, so much to disentangle, so much privilege and bias and everything uncomfortable to sort through. 

I can’t tell you what to do, but if you do just one thing after reading my post this week, I implore you to go get lost in Google (and then in Amazon and in your local library’s website) and commit yourself to reading and learning and doing whatever you can — including all that uncomfortable stuff about checking your own privilege and bias — so that we can collectively work together to make this shit a thing of the past. It begins with us as individuals. 

Know better; do better; raise better. We can do this. 

On occupying time and settling mental unrest:

Reading: The kids and I finished Henry Huggins just the other night, and I’m this close to finishing Moment of Lift. I highly recommend MOL because while it talks about a lot of really terrible stuff, it also explores and explains a lot of impressive on-the-ground development work that the Gates Foundation is doing. It reminds me a lot of Nick Kristof and Cheryl WuDunn’s works (in fact, they are the ones who originally helped inform the Gates and get their work off the ground). The reading list continues to grow during SIP.

Watching: If you read Michelle Obama’s Becoming in the past couple years (so good!), and even if you haven’t, definitely check out her new documentary on Netflix of the same name. I read that her Netflix special was just released last week and was in super-secret production for a long time. It reinforces everything that she wrote about in her autobiography, and I’ll be the first to admit that I cried like a freakin’ baby while watching it (and completely unabashedly). 

Running: Lots of miles still — all healthy — and still diligently following my “ancillary work” schedule for the first time in my life; it only took a pandemic for me to get my act together. My team is hosting a handful of challenges this month — like a virtual Mothers’ Day 5k/10k/10miler, a 10k time trial, and an elevation contest — which has been fun to participate in (though I’m not keen to do a TT right now). 

her 5k training is going well. bumping up to 30 minutes this week!

QQ about running: for those of you who are also under a SIP order, where are you running? Do you ever drive to go run somewhere (at a trail, or park, or the ocean, for example), or are you simply beginning and ending all your runs from home? I feel like I’ve read and heard conflicting information about this. I’ve interpreted some stuff I’ve read as basically saying “don’t leave your county” which is completely different from saying “leave your car at home.” With the exception of the few times I’ve driven the kids to the perc ponds (approximately two miles away) to specifically run there, all of my runs have started and ended at home because that’s the impression that I’ve been under (despite the mixed messaging). From my very unscientific observation, it seems like probably a 50/50 mix of people who are only running out of their homes versus those who are actually driving somewhere to run. Thoughts?

Cooking: nothing out of the ordinary at this point. 

Listening: Given *everything* going on in the world right now, the most recent Freakonomics episode about the negativity bias was pretty fascinating. The two recent episodes on the Growth Equation — about digital device hygiene and about leading yourself and others — were also pretty fascinating listens, given the current landscape.  

Another week down. Take care of yourself and of each other. Hang in there. xo