A Coronavirus Update: From Ludicrous Speed to Full Stop

It’s been a busy couple of months.

Since returning to New York this spring, we’ve seen a whirlwind of changes — namely, a full reopening of literally everything, with locals jovially rejoining the masses, whether it be Rockaway Beach, their favorite restaurant, or dust-ladened bar stools, with no sign of slowing down in sight. I’ve had my fair share of activity since my return. Within two months of me being back, I attended a wedding, a concert, and signed a lease on a new apartment, all while acquiring a pair of cats (more on that at a later date and time).

And now I feel as if we are experience a bit of a “one step forward, two steps back” scenario. I’m uneasy and unsettled, I’ve put trips out west on hold, and I’m beginning to witness more outdoor mask-wearing up here with every day passing by.

I started this blog post well over six weeks ago. And it’s high time I finish it.

So here’s a status report — I’ll try to be brief.

QLPs do ~ fashion ~.

There Was a Wedding

Over the Memorial Day Weekend holiday, I had the opportunity to attend a wedding with QLP as his plus-one. Like so many other weddings that were supposed to be held in 2020, this one was postponed for obvious reasons. The wedding happened to be in Charleston and so we would fly, making it my first flight since March of last year.

And fuck, was I rusty at the task at hand.

Me being my (sometimes) productive self, I thought it would suit us well to order the Lyft to EWR from the Upper East Side, picking up Brian in the process. But because it seems I truly enjoy burning the candle at both ends and also love my family, I went out with my cousin and his extremely pregnant wife who were visiting the night before, which led to a 2:00 a.m. bedtime and a nearly-missed flight. Nevertheless, we made it, and once we were settled at the bar at Bistronomy by Nico eating moules frites, tuna tartare, and escargot dumplings, all was at ease and all was forgotten.

Is this what vacation feels like? I’ve plumb forgotten.

From then on it was a fucking ride.

I also need to be very clear about something: For any wedding, it is extremely kind to be offered a plus-one. The bride and groom were so gracious in not only offering Brian a date, but to encourage bringing a date who they didn’t know — a wild card — and for that I’m forever grateful.

The weekend couldn’t have been better — we ate extremely well, learned about an exceptionally large aircraft carrier that hangs out at the Charleston airport, and made new friends in the process, many of which were nomadic during the pandemic, and one of which was an alum from my high school, which was both shocking and also not shocking to my QLP.

There Was a Second Trip to the Adirondacks

The weekend immediately following, I made it back to the Adirondacks for another weekend of climbing the High Peaks. Our goal this go-around was to tackle three more peaks, hitting up Esther and White Face, and rounding out the weekend with Big Slide on Sunday, a peak two of us didn’t complete the last go-around.

Knowing we were heading up during black fly season and all its infamy, we brought all the necessary means to protect ourselves, which meant hosing down our hiking gear with extreme bug spray and carrying face nets should we partake in an unforeseen bug-eating contest. It was also hot and humid, so we made moves at 4:45 a.m. to beat the heat, was officially on the top of Esther by 10:00 a.m. and on top of White Face shortly thereafter.

The rest of the weekend was spent eating rib tips and nachos, catching toads, playing Bananagrams, and also not completing Big Slide due to the rain showers that were not in the forecast.

It’s fine — at this point Big Slide will be the last of the 46 High Peaks we complete.

There Was a Concert

I’m not joking when I say that the city went batshit crazy when things started opening up. Bars — open! Broadway — coming soon, get your tickets! Sports — open! So when I received a text from my friend and former neighbor that said, “Foo Fighters in June?,” my immediate response was, “FUCK YES.”

Foo Fighters was to be the first concert Madison Square Garden put on since the pandemic began — for fully-vaccinated fans only — and the city went nuts. We experienced all the pre-pandemic rituals of getting tickets: endlessly trying to grab seats on Ticketmaster for presale and then day of, and eventually snagging higher-priced tickets on Stubhub.

I’ll be honest, I was nervous about going to a show while still amidst a pandemic. It was a sold-out show. Protesters lined the perimeter of The Garden while us ticket-holders showed our proof of vaccination cards and/or Excelsior Pass. It was like a regular day at MSG — thousands of people standing on line to get food and drink, to use the bathroom, to check in to sections to find their seats.

After a year and a half of isolation and sticking to your pod only — with masks — this was weird.

In fact, it was wild.

The show began promptly at 8:00 p.m. and there was no opener. (Still a pandemic!) Foo Fighters played for well over three hours (including a cameo by Dave Chapelle), and there was not a dry eye in the house. Everyone was jovial. There was no riffraff. Hell, I don’t even think I saw an overly obnoxious drunk person. We were all happy to be present, to live in the moment, to listen to LIVE music.

It was Foo Fighters. At the mother fucking Garden.

That can’t be beat.

There Was a Real IRL Race

Shortly after that, I ran my first real-life, in-person race since March 8, 2020: the Front Runners New York Pride Run in Central Park.

I’ve run this race many times. I love this race. This year’s looked a bit different given Covid times, but the start and finish line remained the same at the 102nd Street transverse. Instead of a five-mile race, it was a 6K. Normally I would have been irritated by running a distance that I would most likely never run again. But I didn’t care — it’s Pride Weekend in New York City and I was about to toe the line of arguably my favorite race in Central Park.

My “corral” was in fact, not a corral, but a designated wave start time of 7:15, and so I checked in early and hung out at the start line at 7:00 a.m. And good thing, too, as wave one breezed through, three people at a time every five seconds, all socially distanced, by 7:05.

I crossed the start mat at 7:06. Starting the race with only two other people and not a massive wave can lead to mistakes right out the gate, and I’m specifically referencing me here, who rounded the corner of the 102nd Street Transverse and West Drive at a 6:20, a seriously dumb maneuver when you’re about to tackle the West Side rollers. I hit my first mile in 7:22, went a little bit extra for a mile two time of 7:11, and then completely ran out of steam up Cat Hill during my third mile of 7:31.

In summary, I ran a 6K in a total time of 27:23, placed 15th in my age group (thanks, Covid!), and ate a popsicle for breakfast.

Aces.

The New York City Marathon Is On Deck, and So Is the Delta Variant

I’m now in the throes of marathon training and it’s…going. I told my coach what my specific goals were and told me to throw down the gauntlet, even when I have to endure the North Carolina heat for the next couple of weeks. So she did, letting me ease into my cycle before handing me essentially two speed workouts and an arduous long run for week three of training.

And while my mileage is increasing every week (as is my voracious appetite), I’m honestly wondering if fall marathons are going to be a thing. The Delta variant is clearly proving to be a nasty bitch — how are 33,000 runners supposed to gather together on Staten Island this November? Truly, what does that even look like — are there going to be 17 wave starts? Are we doing three to five humans crossing the mat every five seconds? Is crowd support allowed?

Regardless, I continue to show up everyday, put my head down, and settle into the pain box — a metaphor of what I’ve gone through for the past two and a half years, to be perfectly honest.

So that’s what I’ll continue to do. Head down. Hopes up.

Next up: a couple of much-needed weeks in North Carolina with my family and my Pod Squad.

And folks, get vaccinated. It’s just that fucking simple.

Full stop.