Running Ruminations

The west coast has been on fire for over a week. 

Last week’s weird-as-hell yellow skies gave way to terrible, unhealthy, and perilous air quality for basically all of the west coast, from Washington/the Canada border all the way south to the California/Mexico border. Here in SJ, our AQ got as high as 200 (that I observed), replete with visible ash falling from the sky, though my friends in Portland have been experiencing 400+ level AQ for days at this point. 

By yesterday afternoon, our AQI score finally began dipping from the 170s into the 100s — finally making me comfortable with the kids playing outside for more than a few minutes. After dinner last night, the AQI score went sub-100, which at long last, it seemed, finally made me feel safe enough for A and me to go out for a run together for the first time in a week. This morning was our first green AQ morning in I don’t know how long. We’ve had nearly a month straight of Spare the Air days, a new record.  

It’s all super heartbreaking — being more or less trapped indoors for nearly week is rough, no matter how much you love your home and the people who reside in it — but it’s all quite enraging as well. I mean, DT came to California the other day and told Gov. Newsom that scientists aren’t quite sure what to think of all of this, and he assured him that it’ll cool off soon (and also told him that exploding trees were to blame for our current catastrophe. I wish I could say that I were making this stuff up. 

In not surprising news to any sentient being, scientists agree that climate change is aggravating the frequency and intensity of fires out here, and yet  … and yet, DT continues to flat-out deny that human actions and policies are at least partially significantly to blame. You can’t comb over climate change, DT-slash-Republicans.

Given the state of our environment for the better part of the last week, it follows that my running tanked a bit over the last week. It’s obviously of little importance to anyone but me, yet I think it’s a good reminder for all of us that we are all living in a world where our normal, everyday lives — like whether we can safely run outdoors without damaging our lungs or whether our children can spend any amount of time outdoors — can and will continue to be affected by all the other myriad choices we make in our lives. 

All our itty-bitty microdecisions we make each day — whether to drive to run an errand versus walking there, whether to drive at all versus taking public transit, supporting businesses whose environmental practices are for shit versus those that are more positively impacting — can accumulate and affect our lives in ways that we may not see right away yet still be quite profound. 

Of course, I’m not saying that someone’s gas-guzzling, environmentally-treacherous SUV caused the west coast to light up in flames over the past week. However, it all goes back to knowing better and doing better. When there’s an environmentally friendly option, it behooves us to go for it as often as we can. 

Many of us often fall into the all-or-nothing mentality, thinking that unless we all become present-day Rachel Carsons, our choices are ultimately for naught — but that’s obviously not the case. We must do that which we can, often, and strive for more. It’s the same type of skewed thinking so many of us have regarding to COVID and risk-taking; it’s not an all-or-nothing situation. Cumulative effects matter.      

The current political climate encapsulates a once-in-a-generation firestorm of the COVID-19 pandemic, racial unrest, economic malaise, joblessness, voter suppression, and raging climate change — among so much else — and I hope each of us can commit ourselves and our families to doing the good work (or getting in John Lewis’ so-called  “good trouble”) as often as we can so that our future tomorrow is better than that which we’re presented with today. 

To know otherwise, and to choose inaction, is pretty unconscionable, IMHO. That’s the president’s brand, not ours (mine).

I know this is a running blog, and I highly doubt that you come here each week for me to apprise you of my most recent political hot takes. That said, I think most runners would understand that politics permeate our world, in every single thing that we do, and more specifically, this very activity that we love so much. 

By our nature, runners spend a lot of time, well, in nature, so when we can’t — due to hazards like fires, terrifyingly high AQI scores, or Hades-hot heat or the opposite — it matters to us, and we respond. (Naturally, though, of course runners can care about the environment for reasons that don’t include our hobby of choice).      

In that same vein, much can be said about how impossible it is to divorce other areas of politics, like racial unrest, to this activity that we like so much when the former (profoundly) affects the latter. The recent turmoil between Ben Chan and the notorious RD “Lazarus Lake” illustrate this point beautifully. When we all go out for our daily run, we don’t simultaneously cast aside other areas of our identity: or rather, the most disenfranchised don’t. Those of us who can, who choose to, are among the privileged few.    

At the end of the day, I suppose it’s safe to say that the events of the past week here on the west coast are a solemn reminder of what’s to come if we continue to do more of the same. It’s not so much about being someone who likes politics or who cares for the environment as it is about being a runner, a human being, who moves his or her body through space on this planet that we’re all currently inhabiting and by virtue of our mere existence, being affected by everything. 

It’s on us “to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.” 

After all, we are all we’ve got.

—-

On occupying time and settling mental unrest

Reading. Due to the aforementioned poor AQ all weekend long, I progressed through Eloquent Rage and am just about finished, so I’ll save my commentary for it until next week. The kids and I are loving PS Be Eleven, much as we enjoyed One Crazy Summer, and TBH I look forward to reading it with the girls each night during bedtime.   

Listening. Still nothing. I’m at the point now where I’m even behind on downloading stuff. 

Running. Aside from all the aforementioned commentary about what running looked like in the past week, I hit 2k for the year, which was a testament to how much I’ve turned to this activity this year for stress relief, mental clarity, and anything (and everything else) simply because I’ve never hit that mark at this point in the year. I’ve kept my run streak that I began at the onset of the shelter-in-place order by either running a single, super easy mile outside (after checking and refreshing the website all day long) or by getting on a treadmill. I hadn’t done the latter since 2018, when the Camp Fire was raging up north during the final throes of CIM training. (Thank you, 3drunner Performance and Therapy for the TM access!).

Props to folks who regularly train on treadmills. When I first began marathon training waaaaay back in 2007, I routinely ran (or ran-walked) during the work week on treadmills and only ran my long runs outside on the weekend. It is mind-boggling to me now that I did that for as long, and as often, as I did, because I’m dubious that I would do it now. 

Watching. I haven’t finished watching it yet, and I have no idea how I found it, but if you haven’t checked out My Octopus Teacher on Netflix, it’s worth a watch. It’s a lovely palate cleanser to everything that is 2020.  

48 days until Election Day (6 weeks, 6 days).  

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

I’m writing while seated shoulder-to-shoulder with my kindergartner here at home, as her teacher finishes the “synchronized” instruction portion of the school day online, and behind me is a weird-as-hell yellow sky that makes me think that either an enormous tornado/storm is brewing or that the world is ending. 

Mind you, the AQI is actually pretty favorable at the moment — 40s, green, good — but our skies have been a strange shade of mustard/gray/“apocalypse orange” the past couple days, thanks to fires all over the west (including one downstate that began thanks to a gender reveal party stunt, no doubt for the ‘gram). Fortunately, the fires nearest to us, the SCU Lightning Complex, are nearly completely contained; now, there are just other ones farther afield to worry about. sigh

This year is weird and just keeps going, doesn’t it. 

I’ll take good news wherever I can get it these days. SCC moved into the “red” tier status in the state’s new color-coded gauge, which is a good thing. While there are still a significant number of COVID cases in our county, the move in tiers signifies that we are moving in the right direction. Among other things that could happen as a result of the color/status change, in theory, schools could open for in-person instruction if we stay in the red (on the red?) for 14 days, subject to local school boards’ approvals and everything else. That would obviously have enormous and significant consequences for tons of people here.  

Also in the “good news, please, literally anything” department is that I noticed that as of this morning, ARP is open again. It was closed for much of the earliest parts of the pandemic, reopened for a while, and then was closed again for 3+weeks when the SCU Complex was raging (relatively) nearby. Since then, more often than not, the park has been closed (thanks to Labor Day, the oppressive heat wave last weekend, and the like), and with us in the early days of fire season, it’s reasonable to expect future closures, which totally sucks but, like I said, is totally reasonable. 

In other words, enjoy this sweet gem of a spot on the east side while it’s still open, but do so responsibly, for the love! ARP really is such a treasure. 

It is so unlike me to focus on the here and now and not look two steps ahead of reality at any given point, and by virtue of you likely being a runner if you are reading this, I know you can relate. I’m a planner by nature, someone who loves schedules and routines and checking boxes and all that jazz, and of course, the past ~7 months have upended that which was the norm previously… which is hard. More often than not, I can give you a decent estimation of what I’ll do today, but I can’t say much for tomorrow. It’s weird, and disorienting, and sometimes (oftentimes) maddening.  

Every day (nay, sometimes every hour, it can feel like), when all the feelings begin to bubble up inside, feelings that range from anger, to fear, to boredom, to anxiety, whatever the case may be, I try desperately to reorient myself. Feel your feelings, by all means, but also try to have some perspective, acknowledging that which you have and being grateful for it. It’s a common refrain I share with my girls when they (and I) are having one of those we’re feeling our feelings in full day, and I find it helpful. 

The simplicity of gratitude belies its power. 

Today, I am grateful that I could run this morning under favorable-AQ-skies, weird as they may have looked, and I’m grateful that I was able to help facilitate my kids’ online school, as hard as it can be to be playing both mom and teacher at times. 

Tonight, I am grateful that my eldest’s GS troop is continuing to meet online because we’re still doing awesome things together, apart, and navigating this weird time together. 

And somewhat miraculously, I was able to score a membership to one of the local gyms that’s doing outdoor lap swimming and got a reservation for tonight for 45 minutes for the girls and me, and for what, I am also enormously grateful. 

As I find myself reminding my kids that life won’t be like this forever, I’m finding that I’m telling myself the same, that the best thing we can all do is stay focused on today, right now, and just do the best we can, without much planning for the future. 

It can be hard to stay positive and to continue to look on the bright side all the time, but it’s something that I want to model for my family and something that I come back to every day — that there is always something for which to be grateful, even on the days when I mentally want to burn it all to the ground, no stupid, catastrophe-causing pyrotechnic stunt for the ‘gram required. 

—-

On occupying time and settling mental unrest

Reading. I’m creeping through Eloquent Rage and finally began Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, a library book that I checked out weeks ago but hadn’t yet been feeling until recently. Both are good, and I’m kicking myself for not beginning them sooner. (I think I need to read the news less often). Last week, the girls and I finished Walk Two Moons, which I hadn’t read in eons, and started PS Be Eleven.  

Listening. Still no, aside from a thirty-minute SWAP podcast this morning. Early in the pandemic, I found that I craved the absolute silence my morning runs afforded me, though eventually I began to drown the silence with podcasts or music most of the time. For whatever reason — maybe related to all this distance learning stuff — I’ve since reverted back to the quiet, early days of the pandemic. 

Running. September began BSIM’s Big Surreal challenge, and I’m on the fence about whether I want to run a solo marathon just … because. We’ll see. I ran a little over 13 last Saturday, a proper LR for me for the first time in weeks because of the poor air, and it wasn’t terrible, just hot. I think I’ve answered it already for myself, now that I think about it; see my above commentary about not really wanting to commit to any long-term planning right now. I like the idea of it, if nothing else. I’m not sure how I feel about the execution…  

Since the AQ has begun to improve, the kids and I have been spending more time outdoors than we have in the past few weeks, and I know they’re loving it (and that they desperately need it). During our mid-morning breaks, we make it a point to go outside and get the mail, talk to the mail carrier (he’s our buddy by now), and run or scooter or bike around before they have to head back inside and sign back on to their classes. A has decided that she wants to begin training for a duathlon — run, bike run, I think — since swimming hasn’t yet been able to resume yet, and for G, as the AQ continues to improve, we’ll finish out her 5k training. Everything, of course, is dependent on the AQ and the weather, so I hope for the girls’ sake that it’ll all continue to improve. Just like everything else right now though, it’s a day at a time and an enormous exercise in patience.  

Cooking. Finally, it’s super simple, and fairly inexpensive to make, so I gotta spread the good word about lentil tacos. I made these sometime last week and have been chowing down on them for lunch ever since. They’re delicious and fairly idiot-proof, and I appreciate that I don’t have to ponder all of life’s existence each day as I figure out how to feed both girls and myself in the very short time we have before afternoon sign-ons. Pop it in the microwave (if you want) to warm up the lentil mix, and that’s about it. Easy.  

55 days until Election Day (7 weeks, 6 days).  

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