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COVID, week 59 + what’s on yours?

COVID, week 59 + what’s on yours?

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I’m a week-plus late to celebrating Des Linden’s 50k world record/non-record/“world best” (IYKYK) she set in Oregon, but if you’ve followed her for a time (or know even *this much* about her), you probably weren’t surprised that she did it. I’ve heard and read a couple interviews of hers post-race, and damn, I love that woman. What a badass. 

Hearing her interviews got me wondering about what goals are out there in my running that I still want to pursue, both now and once “normal” racing is back/back-ish and COVID, as we know it now, is in our rear-view mirror. I haven’t really thought about any of this in the past year because, well, the past year. 

Yours? What are you eyeing or even kinda-sorta pondering over? 

For starters, I feel like I still have unfinished business with the marathon; more specifically, I think I have faster ones in me yet. I think my desire to run longer is beginning to return, after it was all but gone for the better part of 2020, so on each weekend’s long run lately, depending on my schedule, I’ve either run for longer periods of time (going after time on feet), or longer distances, or sought greater elevation, or some combination of all of this. I don’t have much of a desire to do a hard LR workout on the roads just yet, but maybe this will come in time. 

this is fine. everything is fine. :\ from last weekend’s LR.
They have so much land and were all over the trail (Boccardo), uncomfortably close, and were near impossible to safely get around. It freaked me out for sure (especially a run-in with a mom and her 3 calves).

When CIM ‘21 opened for registration a few weeks ago, I waffled about it but didn’t sign up; at this point, I think I deferred from ‘19 to ‘20 to now ‘21, ‘22, or ‘23. With COVID still being what it is right now, I kinda can’t fathom how a point-to-point race like CIM would operate, with a lot of the onus and responsibilities being on the runner to manage — like on-course fluids and support, transportation to the starting line, that sort of thing — and right now anyway, I 100% have no interest in managing all of that myself while trying to post a speedy time. Maybe a lot will change between now and December though. Time will tell.  

The same goes for Boston, too. I talked before about my lack of interest in returning to Boston, but of course, after a year of no travel and no racing, the idea of going to and racing a major marathon — and in the fall, no less! — sounds pretty rad. It’s the same mental block that I have with CIM that I have with Boston right now, though. The point-to-point course complicates logistics in ways that I don’t have an interest in handling on my own. If it happens, I think it could be amazing — and especially with Des returning this year!! — but for me, I don’t think it’s a great fit at the moment. (And of course, a fall marathon necessitates summer training, which is always pretty dicey with kids being out of school and off their usual schedules. All that boring minutiae matters when making decisions like this, ya know!?). Part of me thought that maybe going back to Boston in the fall could be a cool way to memorialize John — since it was training for Boston eleven years ago that we all met — but I don’t think I’m ready to return. 

I think I also still have faster times in me over the shorter distances — namely, the mile-10k — but drumming up the excitement and hype for this is a bit more of a labor than it is for the marathon. With our current local race landscape being what it is, I’m taking advantage of this dearth of local racing opportunities to continue to work with Coach Lisa on the shorter stuff for a change. Of course, I have no idea when local races will be back online, but until then, I remind myself during short/fast workouts that this type of stimuli is good for me periodically. Most people would argue that to get faster over the longer distances, runners should first get faster over the shorter stuff, after all. I registered for this summer’s virtual Wharf to Wharf (6 mi), and right now, it feels energizing to think about training for a fast 6-miler, so we’ll see. It’s all new territory. 

But as we all know, running is more than fast times and PRs. I think every runner I know got creative over the past year, in the absence of in-person race opportunities, to keep their motivation high when it sometimes (often times) felt like it was a lot easier to simply give in to our hedonistic inclinations and not even bother. Pursuing fast times can be fun, yes, but it’s not the end-all, be-all. There are other goals to be had.

At the absolute other end of the spectrum, part of me still feels a (very small) pull toward the 50k and 50m distances, though when and where and why is all a mystery to me. The only 50k I posted was back in December ‘14, when I was very early (and unknowingly) pregnant with G, but I enjoyed the training and the experience of it. Similarly, part of me is intrigued by the 50m distance, but the motivation and interest flutters from season to season. 

Finally, for the novelty of it, I’m intrigued at the idea of completing a marathon from home — probably one that would be mostly situated in ARP and OSP, or maybe one from home into Monument Peak and surrounding areas — just ‘cuz. I also haven’t carried fluids with me on a run in over a year, so this project would necessitate a bit more forethought and planning that I’ve done in the recent past. Part of me also thinks it would be cool to run Mt. Hamilton Rd. from home to the Lick Observatory (~21 miles each way), but that’s probably a long shot just ‘cuz I don’t want to deal with vehicular traffic on narrow, hairpin turn mountain roads. 

The nice part about running, of course, is that you can maintain your motivation by chasing after whatever goal you want. There’s eventually going to be a time when I won’t get any faster, but that doesn’t mean that it’s time to shut it all down.

The pandemic reminded me every single day for the past year-plus that sometimes, it’s sufficiently gratifying to simply get out and move every single day, no matter the pace or distance covered. 

Just running what feels good or right is fine. 

Simply aiming to “move every day” can be enough. It’s fine. 

Some days, the miles are faster; some days, the miles are slower. Both are fine. 

Some days, the miles are flatter; on other days, they’re hillier. Both are fine. 

And some days, the miles seem to go on forever, and I don’t stop (and don’t want to stop) for a long time; on others, in comparison, I’m good after 20 or even 10 minutes. Both are fine. 

If you’re at a place with your running where you feel like it’s beginning to feel a little stagnant, and maybe local races aren’t readily available near you (or even if they are, if you’re not comfortable or interested in participating), I’d encourage you to put on your creativity cap and see what you can do. What sounds the most exciting to you right now and is something that you can sustain for a defined period of time (a training block, a quarter, whatever)?  There’s not really any right or wrong answers. 

Just like everything else with running, it’s very much an experiment of one. You’re a badass no matter; just keep showing up. 

COVID, week 57 + it keeps on

COVID, week 57 + it keeps on

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Thank you for your kind responses, DMs, texts, messages, everything about John in the past week. It means a lot. 

Grieving is such a weird process. It comes and goes, unpredictably, at times when it’s most unexpected. 

Case in point: I have found myself recalling random memories and conversations with John at the weirdest times since his funeral last Tuesday — like when I bought bananas from Costco recently, some that were super, super green and in no way edible for at least a week.

I usually buy two bunches of bananas at a time, some that are yellow and ready for smoothies right now, and some that aren’t so ripe but will be good in a week’s time or so. We go through a lot of bananas in this household. 

For whatever reason though, when I recently bought bananas, immediately my mind went to a conversation with John and others after what had to have been the Hot Chocolate ‘09 race in Chicago in Grant Park. A conversation with a friend about produce more than a decade ago? Seriously?

almost positive this whole banana debate was after this race

I remember that we were all standing around at the finishers’ chute with all the food the volunteers gave us. It was in early November, on my birthday, and it was kinda frigid outside. We all had our arms full of post-race nosh, and John, others, and I were having a heated, friendly debate over which types of bananas were best: the rock-hard, obviously under-ripe green ones (his favorite) or the ones more yellow and softer (mine). I think I must have been complaining that volunteers were passing out immature, inedible bananas, while John argued the opposite, saying that AT LAST a race finally got it right! 

Clearly, I have bought bananas in the past eleven years — including the nasty green ones — but it wasn’t until John’s death that I thought of him when I found myself buying green bananas. 

Not sure what it means. It’s strange. 

*

I think as humans, we rationally know that the world keeps spinning, and life goes on, no matter the circumstances in our personal lives — including the death of someone we love — but it’s still a startling realization to come to terms with. 

Good stuff continues to happen, even though John’s no longer here to see or experience it — more people are getting COVID vaccines than ever before, fewer people are getting or dying from COVID (at least in these parts), kids are slowly getting back into school — as well as the bad, unfortunately — systemic racism is still killing unarmed black men (Daunte Wright being the latest, in Minnesota, not far from where George Floyd was killed last May), this damn pandemic won’t end, so many people are still subscribing to the alternate realities that many conservative politicians peddle — I mean, take your pick. There’s a lot, always, still.      

Knowing this, that the world keeps spinning, that good and bad alike both keep happening, even though John’s not here to observe and experience and analyze, is simultaneously comforting and maddening. It’s a solemn reminder, kinda like that trite commentary that “to the world, you may be one person, but to one person, you may be the world.” 

I think in this way, grief can be fairly levelling; you don’t have to necessarily know the person to know what the loss feels like. Most people know the sucker-punch feeling, the waves of sadness, the catch in your throat that grieving fosters. 

And this is where running comes in. The ability to process, to experience the whiplash of feelings, to simply have an opportunity to (very uncomfortably) sit and marinate in what is an unfortunate-but-normal part of human existence: running affords time and space to do all of the above. 

I am obviously grateful for the health and capacity to do it and for the outlet, itself.