One thing I think I neglected to mention in my gratitude post of a few weeks ago, regarding things to be grateful for in this troubled year of 2020, and that is this: Social distance walks. Have I mentioned this on the blog? I honestly cannot recall, so if this is repeat information, strike it up to decaying memory of a guy with constantly recurring thoughts. Anyway, one nice tradition that has blossomed out of this pandemic is the concept of social distance walks. When current athletes and/or alums of the program have visited, we have resisted (as in, outright barred) gathering with them inside our house. Heidi wouldn’t approve, because of the endless clutter (not that anyone in my Marist life CARES about that). Neither of us approve of the idea of extended indoor gatherings in the Age of Covid. And so, we either hang out in the yard (now covered with more than a foot of snow, so not so much of THAT anymore?) or more frequently, we go for walks.
I love walking. I identify more as a walker than a runner or jogger now, although I still cherish morning jogs with my friends (anyone who follows me on Strava knows this, a few times a week, anyway). But the bulk of my “training” (and really, folks, it’s not “training” in the traditional sense, but rather just consistent forward movement) consists of walking. Some of my social distance walks are actually scheduled with regular participants (you know who you are, and I look forward to the next one!). Most of them are loops from my house. Occasionally, I’ll be bold and venture out to Farm Lane or the Dutchess Rail Trail (again, not now, as both are snow covered and neither is plowed or maintained in the winter months). With my ancient Garmin watch, I’m actually keeping track of the distance of these walks. Nothing prodigious, but it all adds up at the end of the week, month, year. More than numbers in a log book or on Garmin connect, these walks keep us connected in a time of disconnection. Other than those blessed few weeks in which we “practiced” with the team in September and October, the bulk of my time has been spent at home, where my “connections” are as much or more with dogs than they are with humans. I miss my people, and the social distance walks help to put a band-aid on the big gaping wound of this pandemic-induced social isolation from my Marist coaching life. Zoom is great; texting is decent; walking is the best. The winter will test the mettle of this new trend, but we’ll aim to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Bundle up, come say hi to the excitable, barking dogs and let’s walk.
1 comment:
Glad to have you back, Walsh.
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