Real David H.

It’s craaaaaaaaaaazy how quickly things have changed every day this month.

In my last post, I took a small stance that races shouldn’t get canceled. But within a day or two of that post, I was practically begging for the Shamrock Half to cancel while so many people wanted it to move forward.

The race, of course, did get canceled, people got mad, some words were said and in an extremely short period of time almost everyone was in full agreement that it was the right call.

For a brief period of time, there was hope that the Blue Ridge Marathon would move forward, but I realized quickly that was wishful thinking. I made a decision that I was going to defer before that event got canceled.

And as is well documented, just about every race through April was canceled … now May events are canceled … and now June races are getting canceled.

And here we are.

That’s the phrase that I feel like keeps coming out of my mouth and so many others.

I’ve had numerous disagreements and discussions about this, but to think that anything in the second half of the year will go on as “normal” is very much wishful thinking. Even as stay-at-home measures will eventually get eased, large-scale events will get canceled or be drastically changed.

There will not be Memorial Day gatherings; July 4th events will either be canceled or have major reductions in crowds; baseball might start at some point but without huge crowds. The list goes on and on.

When it comes to racing, I take a deep breath before saying too much out loud or typing my thoughts about, but …

Here we are.

The reality is …. WE DON’T KNOW. We can all guess and project, but there’s no way to know what will happen to races of any size from July on.

Based on what we know of COVID-19, how it spreads, how it impacts even the healthiest of people, I am all but sure that my focus will not be on training for a specific event this fall. I want to know that our hospitals are no longer at risk of being overloaded; I want to see legit treatments; I want to see progress on a vaccine.

And yes, I know that all of these things take time. We could very well see things get better quickly, only to see a resurgence. It’s all part of the unknowns.

And yes …

Here we are.

I’ve been following the progression of this virus since very early on, but didn’t think it was too big of a deal until it spread to Italy. But even then, I never imagined that it would spread like it has in the U.S. I also never thought I’d see so many people blatantly disregard recommendations from the WHO, CDC, other federal officials and state lawmakers.

I’ve gotten mad. I’ve had arguments with people from both sides who want to make this political. I’ve said things that I wish I could take back. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve learned from others mistakes. I’ve seen my own family members and close friends say or post things to social media that I really wish I didn’t know about them. I know they feel the same way about me.

And yes, this leads me back to the running community. We’ve gone through a round of anger, selfishness and bitterness, only to come back to an understanding. We’re now in a fragile state of unknowns. Some of us can’t run due to restrictions in their localities. Group runs are a temporary thing of the past. We don’t know what to do. We lash out. We laugh. We cry.

And here we are.

And what does that mean”? “Here we are.” I don’t really know. All I know is we’re all in this together.

We all want to …

• Go somewhere

• Hug someone

• Walk in a park that’s now closed

• Go to the beach

• Make plans for the summer

• Have our kids play with other kids

• Go to a store to just browse around

• Laugh with people in a room and not on a Zoom call

I could go on and on.

But here we are. What a crazy, sad, strange time to be alive. But together, we’ll get through this.

And then “here we are” can take on a whole new meaning.