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. 

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.  

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