Running Ruminations

Yet another week of the shitshow quagmire is behind us, and with a new week comes new statistics: California has passed the 800,000 COVID-19 cases mark; worldwide, we’ve surpassed 1 million COVID-19 deaths (more than influenza, measles, HIV, cholera, and malaria, combined, during the same period), and apparently we’re collectively *this* close to surpassing TB or hepatitis as the world’s deadliest infectious disease (but in reality, probably already have; it’s just that the official COVID-19 counts are likely pretty low). 

Meanwhile, we continue to hurtle toward what feels like democracy free-fall with DT exhibiting his lunacy for all the world to see at last night’s debates; we have new fires burning in northern California (the closest one to us is in the Napa/Santa Rosa area); and in general, it often feels like the malaise and rage that has punctuated 2020 continues to magnify with each passing day and leaves me wondering when or what the breaking point will be.

I think there’s a fine line to walk right now, specifically between being sufficiently informed and sufficiently naive. Naivete comes with privilege, of course — because those most oppressed never have the option to turn it off or tune it out when it all becomes too unbearable — yet at the same time, I often wonder where or when to draw the line to avoid becoming consumed with All That is Terrible right now in life (and there is plenty of it, as we all know damn well by now). 

In the earliest days of Shelter-in-Place, I remember beginning each of my days with a pretty decent cry. Here’s how it would go: every morning, as I drank my tea before going out for a run, while the rest of my household was asleep and while the sun was rising, I’d easily spend upwards of 60-90+ minutes trying to read as much as I possibly could related to the pandemic. I wanted to know and read everything, from what was going on in all the states, where I have immediate family, to what was going on here, in my county, as well as what other countries were doing at any given time. 

Every morning I’d find myself succumbing to a somewhat predictable, fairly cathartic morning cry as I read another horrifying and heartbreaking story about people — none of whom I knew — who had died or were dying of this terrible virus, about which we knew virtually nothing or precious little almost seven months ago. You sometimes hear about people who are addicted to “tragedy porn” or “disaster porn,” which wasn’t my MO; instead, I convinced myself that if I read as much as I humanly could each and every day, I’d be able to ensure that my family and I would successfully avoid the worst. I was determined to read my/my family’s way out of (through) this.  

As you can probably ascertain, this habit quickly became unsustainable, though admittedly, having a good cry every now and then — but probably not every single day —  does kinda feel good. 

Now that the weirdness of living in the COVID-19-dominated landscape has become heartbreakingly more second-nature — and scientists and medical pros know how all of us can mitigate our risks — I’m finding that my attempts to read my way out of all of this is applying to the upcoming elections. Much like the earliest days of the pandemic, though it may sound hyperbolic, I feel as though our lives and livelihoods are literally on the line, and somehow I’ll be able to self-educate my way out of it.

There’s probably some coping mechanism hidden beneath all of these behaviors, yet each day that we barrel closer to the election — and each day that we add to the seemingly never-ending lifespan that is our current, COVID-19-dominated lives — I’m finding that I’m becoming better attuned to knowing when I’ve hit that sweet, Goldilocks spot of ENOUGH. It isn’t so much of a strict timeline, like an I’ll read the news for an hour today and that is it, as much as it is a feeling of media satiation. 

I have come to terms that I will never be able to read the internet, and let me tell you, coming to those terms is liberating. 

Again, much of this is tinged with privilege and guilt — because obviously, many people can never opt-out of the persecution they endure each and every day of their lives — yes, and also, it’s in part a matter of self-preservation and sustainability. How I commit myself to doing the work each and every day is a singular matter, and by its very nature, how that looks for me will be inherently different from how it looks for you. So many “causes,” for lack of a better phrase, need allies, and we as allies are useless if we’re emotionally (or rationally or whatever else) unavailable. 

It’s that whole notion of putting on your life preserver first before attending to others’. Once we disabuse ourselves of the notion that it’s selfish, we can finally begin to see how important it really is. 

Perhaps not coincidentally, with Election Day being a mere 34 days from now, the wonderful ladies at Run She.is.Beautiful are launching their October-long challenge that they’re calling the Generate Good Energy challenge. I love this race and the women behind it, so I’m happy to support their work any day of the week, but the timing of this really couldn’t be better. 

We collectively are entering into a month that will no doubt be beset with emotions of all degrees and intensities, and it will be effortless to bog ourselves down in the shittiest of shitshows (sorry, profanity). It’s on all of us to make choices each and every day to pull ourselves (and maybe also our families and partners and friends) out of the haze and to (literally and figuratively) put one shoe in front of the other and move toward progress, whatever that looks like. 

In particular, I dig any endeavor that encourages people to participate in physical activity of any type because we all know how truly life-altering all of it has the capacity to be. Beyond that, though, I’m all for doing the work, daily, to temper the doom-and-gloom with reminders that there still are beams of positivity in each and every day — even if they aren’t necessarily as evident as before. 

With that in mind, then, I’ll start: within the past week, my youngest decided that she was ready to ride her bike, and she just went out and did it, with very little assistance from me. Now that she is five, many of the childhood movement milestones are well behind her (rolling over, crawling, walking, and the like), so it has been especially joyful to watch her confidence grow each day in her riding. Turning and braking are works in progress, of course, but she tells me that she has “bike fever” because any time we have a break in distance learning, we bolt outside because she wants to practice. I cringe when she falters — and of course she does, because that’s part of learning — but I couldn’t be prouder when she gets up and tries again. (And naturally, I’m already wondering when she’ll be interested in going on a ride-run with her sister and me on bikes/on foot).

Just like I reflected on earlier this year, when it was my kids’ birthdays, on the one hand, it’s weird as hell to go through the experience of having a milestone during the pandemic — because among other things, it’s just so anticlimactic — yet at the same time, it’s an excellent reminder that even when so much seems so bad, the good endures. 

As hard as it will be to not bury my head in the sand over the next month and lament, I am committed to reflecting, daily, and generating good energy. It’s less a matter of brainwashing myself into toxic positivity than it is reminding myself that there still remains love and happiness in this heartbreaking-as-hell year.  

I’m curious to hear how you are balancing the positive with the god-awful this year. What do you do to pull yourself together and out of lulls? How do you know when you’ve reached your Goldilocks sweet spot of ENOUGH? 

And finally, some six-word poems: 

Whirring mind nightly. No answers suffice. 

I can’t read out of this. 

Daily recommitment. Small steps. Rinse repeat.

—-

On occupying time and settling mental unrest

Reading. Admittedly not a lot in the past week, save for PS Be Eleven with the kids. Like I mentioned above, much of my free-time reading (of which there isn’t a lot) is about the election or the pandemic. I want to resume my regular routines but have to fight for the mental real estate first. 

Listening. Still not a lot here either, though last week I listened to about two hours’ worth of Megan and David Roche between their episode and Lindsey Hein’s episodes on her regular feed and on Patreon. Most of the time when I’m running by myself, I’ve been perfectly content to listen to nothing but my environment, though for whatever reason, during the first two hours of my long run on Saturday, I chose to listen to the Roches. I think I was craving some positivity; it delivered. 

Running. I wrapped up September with over 200 miles (~206, ~11,000’), which was a bump up from August (~182, ~8,200’), when we lost a lot of outdoors time due to poor AQ, but a decrease from July’s higher mileage (~273, ~18,000’), from when the kids were still on summer break and I didn’t have much of a morning curfew to observe. As always, I’m grateful to be able to run at all, and we are so lucky to have had better air more often than not in September than what we had in August.  

I’m in the throes of the Big Sur Marathon’s Big Surreal challenge, so I’m toying with the idea of completing an on-my-own marathon just ‘cuz, though to be completely transparent, my motivation and interest changes damn near daily. For whatever reason though, I decided to run ~16-18 on Saturday and settled on 18 and nearly 2,800’ in ARP and OSP, and I don’t think I stopped smiling all day that day, between the run and New Found Glory’s livestreamed at-home concert. I battered my quads in the process — downhill running feels treacherous sometimes!! — but between blue skies and just going by feel, without any pace prescriptions or goals, it was GLORIOUS. CIM finally cancelled, too. 

It’s that time of year! Family pictures! And in the absence of school pictures this year, these puppies are pretty special. 

34 days until Election Day (4 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 

Last week feels like it was at least a year ago at this point.

It has been a sobering year-of-a-week since I wrote last, with Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death at 87 on Friday (and the resulting circus of the GOP, led by Mitch McConnell, trying to move fast to nominate her replacement, despite everything that he said in 2016 when he stole Merrick Garland’s seat). 

That tragedy isn’t enough, so let’s also remember that yesterday, the US surpassed 200,000 deaths from COVID-19, all the while DT claiming that the virus “affects virtually nobody” (while at a rally in Ohio, no less). 

Oh, and just this afternoon, the city of Louisville failed to charge the cops who shot and killed Breonna Taylor, who was asleep, in her bed, in her home, with murder. 

If we thought that the final 5 weeks leading into this year’s presidential election were going to be tumultuous, no doubt the events of the past week (and their sequelae) promise that the next month-and-a-half will be nothing short of catastrophic. 

And remember: our children are watching our every move. The next generation is looking to us right now, and depending on their age, they may remember how we reacted in response to the never-ending turbulence of 2020 when they re-learn history as young adults. Complacency is the easy, lazy way out, of course, but growth comes from the work, however untidy and uncomfortable it may be, and it all starts at home. 

To say that the pressure is on is to make what feels like the biggest understatement of the year. 

I sincerely hope that everyone in this country has some type of (healthy) coping mechanism because damn, this year is hard and is just getting harder. 

Terrible and sobering events aside from the past seven days, hope is slowly showing up in these parts. Our air quality improved significantly in the past few days, and this morning, I ran under lovely blue skies, with AQ-in-the-20s this morning, and it seemed like just overnight, the morning air transitioned into the “California crisp” mode that comes with the onset of autumn. All of it was delicious. 

This week also kicked-off the Womxn Run the Vote online relay event. When I first heard about it, I registered right away and encouraged a handful of friends to do the same, and now our team of 10 is among a sea of 10,000 runners from all over the world who are virtually making our way from Atlanta to Washington, DC. Along the way, as we post our “mileage,” my teammates and I get to learn about historic Civil Rights sites and people. 

The WRTV online relay is a meaningful fundraiser for Black Voters Matter, an organization that exists to increase power in traditionally marginalized, predominantly Black communities. Their rationale is that “effective voting allows a community to determine its own destiny,” and their mission agrees with Martin Luther King, Jr.’s sentiment that “Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.” So far, the event has raised over $260,000 for BVM. 

As of Wednesday afternoon, Team ResistNPersist is over 130 miles in (as we log everything from our runs and rides to our swims, weightlifting, barre ballet, yoga, and everything else that the algorithm can convert to “mileage.” Cool, right? I’m all for the accessibility and encouraging all types of physical activity). I’ve enjoyed learning about all the historical sites and people we’ve encountered on our journey so far. Last night, A and I spent some time reading the map and postcards online — each significant historical post looks like a red pushpin that yields a postcard of chock full of information — and everything about this is really well-done.

For as absolutely terrible as COVID has been, one silver lining has been seeing how races and race organizations have pivoted (in the absence of holding in-person races) and are still engaging their runner audiences. Part of this is necessity, of course — because in the absence of real-life racing, how are these small businesses going to make money and pay their bills? — but like anything else, a lot of it boils down to choice. Evolve or die, right?

Like many other runners, I miss racing and competing, and like many other runners, pre-COVID, I always turned up my nose at virtual races because… why. At this point, 28 weeks into this weirdass time, I can say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how so many races have made the best of a shitty situation and have continually and meaningfully engaged their running community. Whether it was runlocal’s California 500 Run the 1 event in the summer, or this Womxn Run the Vote relay, or any of the other online events my kids and/or I have participated in, we’ve all had great experiences and would likely do them again, if for no other reason than to continue to show my support for the people and orgs who are making all of it happen. 

I don’t know when I’ll stop prefixing all my weekly entries with COVID and the week number that we’re in, but part of me thinks that I should keep doing it for as long as it takes. To that end, the NYT recently began a series where readers can submit their birds’-eye reflections on life during the pandemic, from the profound to the silly. They call it six-word memoirs, and I encourage you to write some. Maybe I’ll begin incorporating them into these weird weekly summaries of how bizarre life is right now. 

DL kindergarten works. Still ate glue.

Zoomed out. Went outside. All better. 

I never missed people so much. 

Ineptitude kills. Believe science. Act. Vote.   

—-

On occupying time and settling mental unrest

Reading. I looked forward to finishing Eloquent Rage last week and then had to return it before I finished. Fortunately, I just got it back and should be finishing it soon, in the next couple days. Also queued up is How to be an Antiracist. Reading PS Be Eleven with the girls each night remains one of my favorite parts of the day.   

Listening. Got in just a couple in the past few days, one of the newer SWAP episodes from the Roches and the newest Work Play Love. That was it though. Unless I’m running with Janet or with my kids, the best sound I can hear on the run is silence. 

Running. Having blue, healthy skies for most of last week meant some good running (finally) and getting in the pool three times with the girls both last week and this week. The relay event has been a real highlight to my running in the past few days, too. In real-life racing news, CIM was supposed to make their announcement regarding the 2020 iteration last week Friday (the 18th) but apparently had to postpone their announcement due to a delayed meeting with the state officials (who couldn’t meet earlier because of the fires)… or something. I guess we’ll hear the announcement this week Friday (the 25th). Honestly, it all seems so irresponsible to even be thinking about having a large-scale event in a couple months’ time, so I’m really perplexed why they hadn’t made the call to cancel (or go virtual) months ago. I don’t know a single person who has signed up for CIM this year who realistically plans to run it. I mean, c’mon.    

Watching. We are making our way through musicals (I LOVE this), and last weekend we watched Brigadoon. If you haven’t seen it, oh man. It’s memorable. 

40 days until Election Day (5 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