We’re seven or so months into this little thing called COVID-19, and we’re wondering:
How is your life and running during the pandemic?

We’re collecting essays from the Another Mother Runner community about life and running during the pandemic during the month of October, and we’d love to hear from you.

Here are the guidelines:

—These are not essays about how you’re doing the same thing every day. Nor are they politically oriented, a call to wear—or not wear—masks, or anything about conspiracy theories.

—Instead, Seven Months: My Life and Running During the Pandemic is an entry into a short, detail-rich story that has some kind of universal theme or resonance.

—The story doesn’t have to be about running, nor does it have to have a happy ending—it can be funny, empathetic, enlightening, scary, whatever.

—500 word limit. (No exceptions!)

—We will run selected essays on this website, in our twice-weekly Another Mother Runner Newsletter, and on our Facebook page.

—All entries up for consideration must be received by October 11, 2020; send essay (again: 500 words max) and a picture of yourself (either a head shot or a vertical one of you running) to bamr@anothermotherrunner.com with subject line: Seven Months.

 

Excavating is more like it. They were buried, as was I, but we are digging out now.

Maybe you know the feeling.  

While friends around me spent the spring and summer energetically redecorating their surroundings, cleaning out long-forgotten closets, or learning to keep sourdough starter alive, I hunkered down to watch Netflix and eat ice cream like it was my job.  

The winds of change blew gently by in late June when a high school friend posted about her local outdoor boot camp classes. I was intrigued and asked for more info. When I saw the 5:30AM start time, I pondered the value of my late nights with pals Ben + Jerry, and was like NOPE. I wanted to do the workout but couldn’t find a way off the couch.

A month later I saw her post again for the August classes to start, and I noticed my BFF comment on it and then saw that she messaged me. Do it together?

My stomach sank while I considered how dark it was at 5:30 and how hard it would be. So very hard. I faltered but then quickly typed out “YES PLEASE!” before I could change my mind. She had reached a hand down to me where I was becoming one with my old sofa and yanked me to my feet.

We ran off to meet sunrise together that week and I have never looked back. 

For 60 minutes, 3-4 times a week, I now attend a hard core workout class that has boosted my spirits, connected me with other humans face to face which I needed more than I realized, rebuilt my confidence in my own body and strength, improved my overall fitness for running, and helped me shake off the pandemic cloud which had been suffocating me.

Also, feeling stronger and healthier helped me break it off with Ben + Jerry…except for occasional weekend flings of course. Now, for the first time ever in my whole life, I can see a legitimate bicep! These arm muscles feel like badges of honor to surviving the hardest few months of my adult life and coming out the other side a little stronger. 

This past weekend, I took my new strength on a tour of two 4000-footers in the New Hampshire White Mountains. When I reached the top of the second peak feeling physically tired but absolutely full of strength and joy, I knew I had successfully climbed out.

Naturally, I flexed.  

Read more Seven Months into the Pandemic essays.