Running Ruminations

It’s hard to believe that in just a few short days, we’ll be turning the page on the month of July and that soon enough, this weird, non-traditional pandemic summer will be behind us. The start of the different, right-is-left, down-is-up school-year is fast approaching, too, as July settles in our rearview mirror, and so many immediate questions are still flying around with how the year is going to look and work, and that’s to say nothing of all the questions of the long-term ramifications of this upcoming school-year. 

We all want answers to all our questions, no matter how mundane, and not being able to get them — or better, not being able to look to recent history or comparable circumstances to give us an educated guess about potential answers — is super disorienting. 

That said, what continues to baffle me is how many people seem to not give a shit or somehow think that the few things that we absolutely do know about this virus — about washing our hands well and often (obviously not a practice that’s restricted to COVID), about not touching our faces (same), and about the minimal-inconvenience but maximum-impact-conferring importance of wearing masks in public — simply don’t apply to them. What? 

Of the innumerous aspects of this disease that we do not know or over which we have absolutely no control, it is literally — and I mean that — unfathomable to me that, twenty+ weeks into this mess, there are still some people who choose to ignore the precious few guidelines that we know, definitively, can lessen the severity or duration of this pandemic. 

It’s like the ultimate gofuckyourself to the rest of us. 

Here’s an illustrative example. Last week, the kids and I went to the beach twice, once on Monday afternoon, when it was pretty overcast and sparsely populated, and again on Friday afternoon, when the weather was sunnier and it was busier but still with ample space to distance ourselves from the other beachgoers. (Local friends, I’m talking about Rio del Mar). On Friday, I noticed a pretty good-sized group next to us (easily twenty+ feet away), and I counted over twenty-four people–twenty-four!!–none of whom were wearing masks or physically distancing. The group looked like it was comprised of several families, there to celebrate a child’s birthday (replete with birthday cake, snacks, and everything), and when they weren’t out in the sunshine, they all congregated under the cluster of canopies they had positioned together. Twenty-plus people. On top of each other. Sharing food, utensils, whatever. In a freaking pandemic. 

I will be the first to admit that I am not an expert on any of this, but what the hell. As of last week Friday, Santa Cruz County wasn’t on the state of California’s watch list (though nearly all of the Bay Area counties were and still are), so I initially chided myself for being so judgy and told myself that simply maybe the same rules didn’t apply. (By Monday of this week, Santa Cruz County joined the state’s watch list). Here in SCC, we’re advised to not congregate in sizeable groups (even outside) and to always don masks when we can’t maintain that magic six-foot physical radius, but who knows? Maybe forty miles to the south, in Santa Cruz County, those same rules were somehow inapplicable. Maybe this huge group of families is actually one enormous family that owns a mansion in the hills somewhere, and they all live together, and it’s really NBD if they’re all together on a public beach because they’ve been all together since the get-go on all of this. I mean, what do I know? Nothing.

Just the same, when I’m running and I see huge groups of hikers in ARP or cyclists on White Road — and especially when none or few of them are wearing masks — all I can envision is that they’re all essentially telling the rest of us, those of us following the rules and significantly altering our personal choices and our lifestyles in the name of public health and because it is the non-asshole right thing to do, that somehow our health or our families’ health is somehow not as important as their own. 

Again, it’s like the ultimate gofuckyourself. 

At this point in the pandemic, these people can’t claim ignorance to justify their actions. They know; they simply don’t give a damn. 

How selfish can you be? Oh, wait, this country is predicated on the idea of selfishness and exceptionalism. Our potential limits are endless here. 

It can be really frustrating — and disheartening — to see that there are still so many people who aren’t taking this pandemic seriously and who are choosing to opt-out of caring about it. That life right now must be grand. Please, enlighten me what life is like when you only care about your own.  

Whether based in actual fact or hopeful delusion, I remind myself (and my children) that people do, in fact, have a capacity for change, and that even if they initially felt or did one way/thing about something before, it doesn’t mean that they’ll be locked into it forever. (Case in point: most of us weren’t wearing masks in January or even March, but many of us started to when we learned how important it was). 

My sincerest hope is that slowly but surely — though if it were up to me, change would happen overnight — people everywhere in this country, regardless of political identity or affiliation, will have their come-to-Jesus moment with this virus. The tragedy is that hundreds, thousands, or millions more people will get sick, if not also die, before this awakening takes place. 

Maybe for those most staunchly in the “COVID-is-a-hoax” camp, it’ll take them or their loved ones getting sick before they see the light — which, again, would be tragic and completely, utterly avoidable and unnecessary. 

I think it will take a lot for the tide to change and unify here — the least of which being real, actual leadership and people’s belief and trust in real-life, actual science — but like so much in life, it starts with the individual, at home, in conversations that we have, and in behaviors that we model. 

The personal is political, yes, always, and as it pertains to COVID, the personal will kill us all if we don’t think bigger. 

On occupying time and settling mental unrest 

#hope5kchallenge update. Hope’s Corner is in its final days of its 5x5x5 fundraising challenge, and I’m so happy to update that have surpassed their $5,000 goal! Thank you to everyone who has supported their efforts, and if you haven’t yet logged your 5k goal, it’s not too late to post it and donate here. Thanks again for your support. 

Reading. It looks like last week was all about finishing books, since the kids and I finished Resist one night and then One Crazy Summer the next and began Walk Two Moons immediately after. After I finished White Rage, I began The Hate U Give, which I had heard about for years but never picked up, probably because I thought the YA designation made it somehow less appealing (shame on me). Needless to say, it’s heartbreaking and terrible but so very important.  

Listening. Late last week, I learned that local SJ runner Bertrand, whom I knew from Represent Running, began a podcast, so I dove right in and listened to his interviews with JT Service (of RunLocal fame), Becky Hernandez (one of the first runners I met when I moved here, thanks to TSFM ambassador program), and the one with Bertrand, himself, being interviewed by his co-host whose name completely escapes me and I can’t find online (I’m sorry!!). They’re super fun to listen to, and I think it’s especially fun to listen to interviews when I know the interviewers (or interviewees). This week’s SWAP podcast was also good, and just yesterday, I caught-up on the BIPOC runner safety pod on Rambling Runner, which was solid. I’m partial here because I adore and appreciate Connie. (Strange irony to be listening to a runner safety podcast on the run and get the annoying experience of dealing with a creepyass guy, whom I’m pretty sure followed me, but that’s another story for another day. I’m fine).  

Running. Last week was a big running week for me, with something like 73 miles and over 5,600 feet of elevation, and I even ran a proper long run (15) for the first time since March. I don’t really have much of an explanation for any of it, aside from just that it felt good and it felt like the right thing to do, so I just went with it. G has handled the bump up to 30’ runs well, and she enjoys calling the shots for our music selection (or not) on our thrice-weekly runs. Earlier this week, A also swam for the first time since March, some OWS in SF near Ghiradelli Square, and I can only imagine how excited she must have felt to be in her happy place, doing her happy thing, for the first time in four months.   

97 days (13 weeks, 6 days) until Election Day. 

Stay healthy and safe, take care of yourself and others if you can, and keep reading and listening. xo