As I sit at the keyboard, I realize that it has been about six
years since the COVID-19 hit our nation
and I was stricken with COVID. Where I live in northern New Jersey it hit early
and hard. Yet now it almost seems like a distant memory—as if it was just a bad
dream. As a nation we have moved on. Much
has been written on how it affected our society. Nearly all those COVID memories
and associations are rightfully negative. Mine are too. Yet if I am completely
honest with myself it did change me in some positive ways. I am slightly
embarrassed to admit that. Yet it is true that I am more content as a person
and a much better runner. Let me explain.
In April 2020, I wouldn’t have believed that I would ever say anything remotely positive about my experience with COVID. I should note that during the pandemic I lost family and friends to the disease. So, I am not saying I would ever want to go through anything so deadly and tragic and scary again. But sometimes we can learn from tragedies.
My COVID story is that when the pandemic hit in mid-March my
work immediately became remote. I ran before COVID but now that I did not have my
90-minute daily commute to work, I used that time to run. I naively thought that
my running would stave off COVID.
One day in April I came back from my morning run and noticed
on my watch that my heart rate had jumped up to 200 beats per minute. I didn’t
feel anything unusual, but I was wary because it was not a hard run and my
heart rate was never even close to that before. The next morning, I tried
running but at the end had to walk back to my house exhausted. I was an avid
runner who had run a 50-mile race and a 50k. Now I couldn’t finish a five-mile
run.
I collapsed at my house and then had no energy and a cough
brewing. I suspected I had COVID so I went to get a test. Now this was not at a
doctor’s office or a hospital, this was when they weren’t doing that. I drove
to the parking lot of a local community college and waited in line with other
cars while people in hazmat gear checked us in and put a swab up our nose all
without us getting out of our car.
I got a call the next day that, I was positive. For the next
two plus weeks I was restricted to the den away from my family with a high
fever of 102, a persistent bad cough and complete fatigue. My wife would put
meals for me at the door. I never thought my life was threatened. I was
positive that I would win this fight but very unsure if I would ever run again.
Many people never fully recovered from COVID.
Despite my inability to walk or even stay awake for most of
the day, something began to rise in me that has made me a much better and more
appreciative runner. It was because my mindset changed on running. Suddenly
running was not just a fun hobby. It was not just a way to stay fit. It became
much more. All of a sudden, I realized that running was part of my
identity. Sometimes you do not realize
how important something is to you until it is taken away from you.
I realized that running even at the age of 60 is a gift.
Maybe even more so as we age. It was at my weakest moment that my goal was to
run again. Not only just run again but to run an ultra-marathon. Admittedly I
was motivated by fear. Fear that this gift might be taken from me.
It took about two weeks for my fever to break and a week or
so more, for my cough to begin to subside. I felt the urge to move and walk
even though I knew that I could not run.
I was motivated by my goal to push myself to run an ultra-marathon. Ironically
the day I came down with COVID was the day I was supposed to do a 50k out near
Zion National Park. I think this also sparked my goal to do an ultra-marathon. My
mind was more focused than ever on being a runner. Yet while my mind was there,
my body most definitely was not.
It was unseasonably cold when I went on my first few walks
which were only a couple of miles. Before COVID I loved running in cold weather
but even though I was bundled up when I breathed in the chilly air the cold
seemed to infiltrate my entire body. My training to become a runner began with
these short slow walks. Then after a couple of weeks, I began to stretch them
out. Yet I somehow knew I was not ready
to run. I was actually afraid to try to run.
What if I couldn’t do it? I needed something to get me to take the next step.
Sometimes on my walks I would go to a local park and hike in
the forest. It was here that the “Running Gods” sent me a sign that it
was time to run. It was a beautiful day in May and I was hiking in one of my
favorite parks when I saw a trail runner approaching me. She stopped when she
saw me because I was wearing a T-shirt from an ultra-trail race that I had
done. She had done the same race and was
supposed to do it again that very day, but it had been cancelled because of
COVID. The pandemic was still raging so we chatted eight or nine feet apart
about various races. We ran in the same races. We eventually went our separate ways,
but that brief conversation reminded me that I was a runner and needed to run.
The next day I went to our town park which is completely
flat and decided I would try and run. I was so nervous. Worse than any pre-race
jitters. What if I can’t run? I used to be very confident when I ran but now, I
was not.
As I took my first few strides, I was nervous but then
everything began to feel familiar. The comfort of settling into a nice pace.
The feel of the wind as you run. Even the sweat that began to drip from my
hair. After three and half miles I had my answer, I was a runner again!
After that run I never looked back. I signed up for virtual
running challenges. Since my work was still remote, I started to use my
commuting time to run. I had a goal of
doing an ultra-marathon and pushed myself more than I had previously to see
what I could accomplish.
COVID had taught me one thing and that was that time was
precious, very precious. Time is also limited and is not guaranteed. It is a
person’s most precious commodity along with good health. I now had both and was
not going to squander them. I also told people that I eliminated the word
“later” from my dictionary. If I wanted to do something I would not wait to do
it later. Later is not guaranteed.
There were almost no in-person races going on that summer as
the pandemic was in full swing, I signed up for several virtual challenges and
began my daily runs with a new urgency. I was crushing my virtual challenges,
but I needed a real race. Yet they were not there. After all, my goal was to
run an ultra-marathon.
Finally, a 50k opened up and I immediately signed up. I needed to test myself completely. It was not an easy course and was comprised mostly of single-track trails with plenty of rocks. It was my first test since my battle with COVID. It was not easy but I finished.
That accomplishment completed the change. From that day forward I pushed myself harder
than before and sought out races that would challenge me. After all there was
no longer a “later” only the now. Since that moment I have done so many
ultra-marathons and crazy runs. I went to Zion to do the 50k that was
cancelled, ran a hundred miles seven times, ran the length of my home state of
New Jersey (196) miles and even did the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to rim run.
I run with more joy because I realize being able to run is a
gift. I am also more content not just as a runner but a person because I no
longer wait for “later.”
