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COVID, week 1 & Kelly McDonigal, PhD’s The Joy of Movement

COVID, week 1 & Kelly McDonigal, PhD’s The Joy of Movement

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At the rate we’re going, I’ll have little memory of this all in a week, so I suppose it’s worthwhile to write it out here as much for you — to compare to what’s going on where you live — as it is for me,  to remember how fast life can change. 

COVID-19 seems to have had a similar effect on time as does child-rearing, wherein the days are somehow really long and really short at the same time. It sounds impossible until you’re in the thick of it, and then suddenly, you get it. 

Since last week’s writings — which seem like a lifetime ago at this point — Santa Clara County is one of many counties in northern California to have issued a Shelter in Place, basically barring residents from leaving home except for very specific reasons, like going to a job that’s essential for society or for getting groceries or medicine. Fortunately, leaving home to exercise outside is allowed, though stipulations still apply: maintain the social distance of at least six feet (unless you’re with people with whom you reside), no big groups (nothing over 10, if I recall correctly), and so on. 

It’s a little weird, to say the least. 

not that we usually run while holding hands or anything, but it is weird to run alongside someone while keeping a very specific buffer zone.

In the mix of our homeschooling adventure — oh, right! I forgot to mention that A’s school is closed at least through the beginning of April and G’s preschool is right there as well, though it’s quite likely that both children will be out of school for (much) longer. It was around mid-day on Friday, March 13, that schools in SCC began communicating with families that they were closing for several weeks to help mitigate the virus’s spread. Somewhere around that time, late last week, most/a lot of the tech companies here (or whose hdq are here) told their entire workforces to transition to working remotely, and so it seemed nearly overnight, we (my family yes, but California in general) went from a fairly typical go to school, go to work, go to extracurriculars, do life as you know it routine to a screeching, full-stop halt, a life where if whatever it is isn’t happening out of your home, chances are quite, quite high that it ain’t happening at all… or if it is, it’s in a way unlike anything you’ve ever done before. 

can’t help but wonder how their little brains are making sense of all this weirdness

Again: it’s all a little weird, to say the least.   

The kids and I have been diligent about getting outside for fresh air (PE? sure!) because that’s a normal thing to do, even if what we’re doing right now — having school at the kitchen table, led by yours truly– is completely abnormal. (Quick tangent here to say that my mom is a retired public school educator and education administrator, so I’ve grown up knowing first-hand how overworked and underappreciated these souls are. Props, again, to the educators who make the world go round. I spent more time this morning explaining, and re-explaining, to my preschooler the various ways one could make a capital- and lower-cased X than is probably necessary. I know I’m no substitution for Ms. M, but deargod!). Anyway.

fresh air and the outdoors, all normal

We have been following a daily schedule to the best of our abilities because I’m pretty sure most of us (humans in general, yes, but my progeny in particular) do better with routines than they do with chaos — and especially during a trying time like now, with a seeming million unknowns flying around and news (fake or otherwise) coming at us at light speed. My job is to give them normalcy, so even in the utter lack thereof wherein we’re currently residing in Silicon Valley, I am trying to make our days have rhythms and cadence similar to what they’d have at school. 

Trying, of course, is the operative word.

recent rains (finally!) are making the plantlife quite magnificent and that nearby stream quite active

In recent weeks, I’ve mentioned how good The Joy of Movement was, and I still wholeheartedly stand by it. My quick and dirty book review of it is basically that if you’ve ever considered yourself someone who loves to move your body — however you do it — because it just makes you feel good, this book is for you. It backs-up all of those hunches you’ve had about exercise’s effect on you, particularly on your mental health, with all types of research and studies that are meaningful and pertinent.

If the opposite is true — that you’ve never really considered yourself to be someone who quote-unquote LIKES exercise — this book is still for you. I think the author does a solid job of convincing everyone that they have something, a few things, really, to gain from exercising, in terms of their mental health. It’s a solid read, fairly quick, and if you’re in the market for something from which you want to walk away feeling inspired (and chompin’ for a run [or your movement of choice]), The Joy of Movement is for you. 

Finishing The Joy of Movement right before COVID-19 blew up reminded me of how important I deem exercise (and specifically, running) to my health. It’s as natural to me each day as, I don’t know, breathing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, my movement of choice brings me immense joy, regardless of my pace, my distance, how much climbing I did, or any other metric that only runners care about, and I’ve often ruminated on how lucky I am to be able to do it in the first place. I’m fortunate to be able to want to do it and be physically able to, yes, but I’m also fortunate to be in a position where my life circumstances allow me to. My privilege isn’t lost on me. (Another quick aside to say that Nick Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn’s new book, Tightrope, is so, so good and also heartbreaking. Reading it in the midst of the COVID shutdown is another level. More to come, highly recommended). 

Regarding running and COVID: over the past few days, with COVID and shelter-in-place and everything else engulfing everyone’s attention span, I noticed that my running has changed ever-so-slightly. It’s not necessarily because my goal races are out the window, which they absolutely should be — Big Sur announced its postponement last week, the spring PA schedule is decimated, and I imagine Mountains to Beach will make their postponement announcement any day now — but I think it’s because I’ve instinctively needed running to be something other than it was for me in days prior. 

In the past week, all I want is to hear the birds singing, or the cows bellowing, or nothing at all. 

Hearing my breathing is enough. 

Seeing the electric pink of a burgeoning sunrise reminds me that I’m here for this, right now. 

I could tell you what yesterday was like, or I could take a stab at hypothesizing what tomorrow will bring, but in doing either (or both), I’d be missing out on what’s unfolding before me, all the messy and uncomfortable bits of it. 

Or I could just stay right here, in this present moment, and roll. It might be a colossal failure, and it might not be pretty, but trying again and again is the only option. 

If movement has taught me nothing else, it has taught me the value in staying put — uncomfortable as it may be sometimes — and that eventually, a path appears, and the only way out is through.  

The Joy of Movement & Race Entry Giveaway for TSFM

The Joy of Movement & Race Entry Giveaway for TSFM

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COVID-19 got ya down? 

Yeah. I feel you.  

I live in Santa Clara County, in “the capital of Silicon Valley,” according to our trash and recycling cans. In the past few days, the county banned public gatherings of more than 1,000 people (exempting schools, malls, and airports), which meant that literally overnight, a good number of races, swim meets, parades, professional sports teams’ games, you name it were wiped off the calendar for the next three+ weeks. 

It’s hard to enumerate everything that has gotten canceled or postponed, but suffice it to say that it’s a lot. Add to all those changes the increasing number of people being asked to work remotely for the first time (and perhaps for the foreseeable future), and all the change and frenetic pace at which it is being thrown at all of us … it’s understandable to feel a little overwhelmed and dizzy.   

In my world, this ban, intended to mitigate COVID-19’s reach throughout our county (2 million+ people strong, with over 1 million here in SJ alone) meant that a race I’d be volunteering at on Saturday morning was cancelled (Shamrock 5k/10k), in addition to a handful of my eldest’s swim meets over the next few weeks. We haven’t yet gotten notice that schools are shuttered temporarily, but it seems it’s just a matter of time, especially since so many of the local higher ed institutions have moved to online learning. When SCC announced the ban was extended through early April, the Silicon Valley half marathon, the singular race I was planning to run in early April in advance of the Big Sur International Marathon, was postponed to a later date. 

At the moment, because Big Sur is in Monterey County, the BSIM appears to still be on as planned for its late April date, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were also canceled or postponed. The same goes for Mountains to Beach down in Ojai and Ventura in May. I’m mentally prepared for either or both race to not happen this spring. I’ve been through the experience before of races having to cancel for forces beyond their control (NYC due to Superstorm Sandy, PA races due to the fires a couple years ago up north), and while it sucks for sure, as important as this stuff is to me (and swimming is to my kids, and so on), it’s so not a big deal in the big scheme of things. It’s hard to argue with extenuating circumstances, especially when the health and well-being of a lot of people’s lives are at risk.    

I have no interest in getting into the scientific particulars or ramifications of COVID-19 because I’m not a scientist, nor do I pretend to be an expert on infectious diseases. That said, it took my breath away on Monday night when I learned that SCC had its first fatality to the disease, someone close to my parents’ age who likely had some sort of preexisting condition, just like my parents and I imagine just like your parents, too. The number of confirmed cases in our county is small — relative to our 2-million-plus person count — but it’s reasonable to predict that the numbers will continue to grow as testing kits become more available. I think of seniors in my life whose health would be seriously compromised by this, and I think of the immuno-suppressed kids I know whose health would also be upended by this stuff, and it’s all a little unnerving, to say the least. 

My original plan for this week’s entry was to write about that Kelly McGonigal book I mentioned last week, The Joy of Movement. I’m not so naive to think that all we have to do is go for a run or walk and presto! we’ll all feel like we have all the answers to this COVID-19 business. However — there’s always a however — I will claim, much like McGonigal does throughout her work, that more likely than not, if you’re feeling any sort of overwhelming emotion surrounding all the uncertainty and fear that is consuming social media and news feeds, one of the best things you can do for yourself is simply move your body. 

seeing this type of stuff is good for us always (and I imagine especially right now). we can’t get enough green stuff in our lives. we’re hard-wired for it.

Walk. 

Run. 

Ride. 

Swim. 

What or how matters less than simply doing. Bonus points if you can do it in some real-deal green space because that confers even more benefits. 

cheesin in the perc ponds. the hills are still green, which is a bit remarkable since we haven’t gotten much rain this winter.

I’m not promising that you’ll find the secret to solving this pandemic or decipher the best ways to mitigate this dilemma in SCC (or wherever you are). 

However — there’s always a however — I can all but promise that in the time you spend moving your body, connecting with nature (ideally), disconnecting from your phone and notifications and everything else that’s making us all feel so on edge about all of this, you will likely feel better than you had in the moments prior. 

When it’s so easy to fret and ruminate about the future and the uncertainties swirling around, feeling enveloped in our worries, there’s peace to be found in the right here, right now.

As contradictory as it sounds, moving is a wonderful avenue to get there. 

A better book report is forthcoming — I’m about 20 pages from finishing the text — but in the interim, how about a little positivity for a moment. I have a comped race entry to any of The San Francisco Marathon distance events that’s up for grabs. This may be something to look forward to if your spring race of choice has gotten cancelled (or likely will get cancelled). It’s the first year in a good long while where I won’t be running SF or being a race ambassador (not because of any ill will — I just don’t think I’ll be in town over race weekend this year), so while you won’t see my beautiful face there race weekend, you will see that of many, many others. 

Just throw down a comment below so my girls and I can pick someone’s name out of a hat or something.  Let’s hear something that made you smile today.

Race day is July 26th, and the race features distances from the 5k all the way up to a 52.4 mile ultra. 

Hang in there.