The hardest part about writing is getting started. I haven’t kept track, but my guess is that I’ve written and rewritten the beginning part of this weekly update upwards of ten times since I began writing it this afternoon, and I keep backtracking, deleting, and rewording because it seems that I don’t have the words to properly express my sentiments right now, sixteen weeks into shelter in place and a COVID-dominated life.

Of course, I am profoundly lucky to be at home, to be safe, to be keeping my children and my family healthy and safe, and my family elsewhere also continues to be safe and well, even those who work in the medical field. There are millions of people worldwide (and these ranks are growing daily) who no longer have the luxury of saying that they and/or their families are well, because they are or were sick, and it is gutting, and tragic, and so incredibly sad. 

It angers me how some people are seemingly “opting out” of this virus-dominated life right now. My main question: how? I would love to know and understand the reasoning behind the person who lives within a half-mile from me who was having what looked to be the party of the year a few weeks ago in their teeny, tiny yard, with tons of people shoulder-to-shoulder, but hey, who am I to judge? Maybe all 30 partygoers actually live in that small ranch that’s secretly an underground mansion compound. Spending time at the beach with the kids earlier this week was a welcome reprieve — and very easy to physically distance ourselves from other beachgoers — but I repeatedly pulled myself back from asking other patrons walking along the wharf (many who were in their 40s+, walking along with their elderly parents, all unmasked) their logic behind choosing not to wear a mask. I see pictures elsewhere, in other areas of the country, where restaurants and bars are open, and people are going shopping indoors without trepidation, and it’s easy to pile-in to small spaces, shoulder to shoulder, for those wonderful great group pictures; what’s going through your mind when you’re literally breathing other people’s air? Better still, what’s it like to have company over to your home — inside!?  

It’s not that I’m necessarily mourning or yearning for the good ol’ days when we could do all of the aforementioned without fear of contracting an unknown, ill-understood, deadly virus. I’m most bothered — and growing increasingly angry over — that seemingly huge segments of this population have decided that they cannot be bothered by this trifling virus, so they’re just going to pretend that it’s not relevant to them and just live their lives, as though they are, in some way, in control.

Isn’t that hilarious? This virus is just that, a virus, not some sentient being, and it sure as hell doesn’t care if you’re tired of it. That so many people think that they are immune to its inconveniences (and, ya know, its existential threat to them… detail schmetails though right) is just inconceivable to me. Here’s a similar parallel: when I was growing up, like a lot of girls, getting my period was a major annoyance. I eventually thought that maybe I could mentally will it away, that somehow — on my own accord, sans medical intervention — I could be in control of it, its duration, its heaviness, its intensity, whatever. 

Ask me how it turned out.

On occupying time and settling mental unrest 

Listening. Two podcasts that stood out to me in the past week stood in the crosshairs of running and racism: Samia Akbar on Ali on the Run and Keeping Track’s episode entitled Racing for Representation. They’re each a good 90 minute listen, and they’re both really well done. I’m fascinated to see how (and if) Runner’s World will respond in future issues, though to be fair, I haven’t been a paid subscriber in years. 

Reading. In the past week, I finished Between the World and Me and Thick, and they were both excellent and very different. Everyone raves about Between — as they should — but I haven’t heard as much about Thick, so please allow me to be the person to implore you to pick it up. It’s a collection of essays that are far-ranging in topic, but it was a fascinating read and took me back to graduate school. I’m linking it here because I think that if you’re interested in reading anything about race in this country right now, this book should be on your list. 

Running. All well here, fortunately. June was solid, with over 252 miles and more than 16,200’ of climbing, right around the same number of miles I’ve been doing lately and a bit more climbing than usual (no doubt thanks to ARP being open). With A’s 5k training this entire month (and ‘officially’ wrapping up this week), it meant that I got to run with my daughter (or daughters, plural) three times a week, which brings me more joy than I can describe. 

Stuff to do with the kiddos. The beach just opened last week Friday, so the kids and I went the other day, which was wonderful. The next day, we went to pick berries for the first time this season, too. It was nice to get some fresh air and leave our immediate neighborhood.   

Be safe, stay well, and continue to listen and learn, gang, because it’s the only way we’re all getting out of here.  xo