Running Ruminations

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

Suddenly we’re nearly at the end of June, and we’re still fifteen weeks into what can only be described as a raging dumpster fire. I consider myself a decently-put-together person, but it is increasingly hard to stay patient and keep on, keeping on. One of the best professors I had in undergrad (hey, Vic!) once said that if you’re not pissed off, you’re not paying attention, and dear lord, it sure feels that that has never been more true than right now. I mean, pick your topic of angst. There are several from which to choose.

So what’s happened in the past week? Hot takes off the top of my head: COVID cases are (arguably, rather predictably) spiking across the country, including here, and I think it was last week Friday that my governor ruled that people must wear masks indoors (and sometimes outdoors). I don’t understand why wearing masks is such a contentious issue, yet I can’t help but wonder (and thought experiment it to death) how COVID would look different, if at all, if it happened during Obama’s tenure or during that of another Democrat — or hell, just for fun, even under a different Republican. 

I completely understand that the personal is political, always, but at what point can someone reasonably argue that refusing to heed medical advice is an expression of political free will or agency versus … I don’t know, just being reckless and irresponsible and selfish and (pick your adjective here)? I’m dumbfounded. It’s something that takes minimal effort, and you do it out of love for other people, including strangers. It’s not a hard concept. 

As a result of the amplification of Black Lives Matter and the horrific tragedies surrounding Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, and Breonna Taylor’s murders — among others — I’ve been trying to keep abreast of each individual’s case as it advances (or fails to) through the justice system. Besides reading the news each morning, with the books I just finished within the past week — Between the World and Me and Me and White Supremacy — it’s hard to not be pissed off all the time. That Arbery’s killers have been charged with murder gives me a modicum of hope in an otherwise very hopeless situation. 

On occupying time and settling mental unrest 

Listening: Code Switch has had some excellent pods lately, including Karla Cornejo Villavicencio talking about her book, The Undocumented Americans (adding that to my queue) and about last week’s DACA decision. I also really liked Mario’s conversation with Kamilah Journet on the morning shakeout (she’s so great! I got to spend time with her on the Women Who Fly trip with Hoka One One a few years ago). Two more listening recommendations — the entire 1619 podcast (only six episodes long) from NYT and Keeping Track’s chat with Gwen Berry about her podium protest at the Pan-Am games. There have been many runs in the past week where I thought I’d only go out for a couple miles but end up spending over an hour running simply because I don’t want to stop listening. These podcast episodes really are that good. 

Watching: Last week, I talked about New Found Glory’s songathon to promote their tenth studio album on Friday. We tuned in and watched it — A watched all of it with me, start to finish, all three+ hours of it — and it was amazing!! I rewatched it on Saturday before they took it down, and it was better than I thought it would be. No doubt that that was one of my most-enjoyed quarantine purchases. What’s yours? 

Reading: Like I said above, I finished both Me and White Supremacy and Between the World and Me last week, and they were both phenomenal, powerful, hard reads that I wholeheartedly recommend. Queued up next is Thick and White Fragility, and I have more library eloan requests pending. I also got some books for the girls the other day that we haven’t yet begun, Resist and Flying Lessons & Other Stories. A is especially excited about summer reading this year, which is pretty cool, and I’m interested in exploring anti-racist lit for kids with her and G. 

Running: A is in week 9 of her 10 week training, so this week includes her longest runs: 40 minutes (today), 42 minutes on Friday, and then 42 again on Saturday or Sunday. On Father’s Day, she participated in the Mermaid Series’ virtual run (a 5k), and she completed the distance (again! I’m so proud!). With COVID cases trending upward, it’s likely that her swim team’s returning to practice will be delayed, which may mean that she’ll keep running with me all summer long … about which I would surely not complain. 🙂   Otherwise, I’m in the final week of Wolfpack’s June-long vert challenge, and I’ve enjoyed all the runs in ARP since it opened. (And today NYRR announced that the NYC Marathon for the fall was cancelled, which is obviously the right call. It’s bizarre to me that Chicago [and other fall races] haven’t canceled yet). 

Stuff to do with the kiddos: I took the girls to ARP the other day, thinking that they’d enjoy playing in the streams for a bit. They did — which I expected — but I didn’t expect that they’d be interested in going for a hike (up half of S. Rim) with very little complaining. We dropped a couple hours there (protip: parking is free throughout the entire park right now), and they’re already looking forward to going back there again and hiking more of the trails where Janet and I run. Free fun, outdoors … I like it. 

Stay healthy, be well, read and listen, and take care. xo