What Got Me Through

 A year ago, it was setting in for me that the pandemic was going to be a long haul. When Washington's stay-home-stay-healthy order was first announced, it was set up in way that seemed to offer the hope that, after hunkering down for six weeks, we'd be able to have a cautious-but-not-locked-down Memorial Day. Instead... we all know what happened.

Now? I'm fully vaccinated. About a month from now, Washington will reopen fully. Seattle and King County are well on the way to >70% fully vaccinated, case rates are dropping... all the metrics are good. While I did take one trip during the pandemic (a barren flight to LAX to kick off a backpacking trip), next weekend, I'll take my first trip since my shots. I expect the plane will be full. And really, looking at the research and the counsel, I feel good about living this summer with my immune system now featuring a spike protein fighting machine.

I know the pandemic isn't over. I know a lot of folks can't get vaccinated at this time for a variety of reasons. Certainly, the summer the bulk of the United States is about to have is going to look a lot different than many countries of the world that are fast approaching the 18-month mark. And I also know that I was holding a pretty good hand walking into the pandemic. I had a job that was going to be fine and that meant peace of mind to know that I functionally had the means to get through this. I fully realize that the words about to follow hinges a great deal on that good fortune and privilege. 

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The hardest adjustments for me in lockdown and through the pandemic were the ones of monotony. I'm an only child and can entertain myself pretty well. But those times are broken up by so much variety: friends, business trips, office chatter, my commute, sports, events around town... all of those and more just stopped. Each day, there really wasn't much new to report. Work happened and, while the details of work differed day-to-day, it was always setting up at the same spot, same schedule... we all joked about what day it was or what the concept of time even was. Weekends offered the respite of not setting up the computer. But, without the organic social interactions of work and life, we all too easily fell down internet rabbit holes (between the pandemic, social justice demonstrations and the election, there were too many opportunities for that.)

Of course, we all found our ways to get through and to break that monotony. My partner made sure there was a constant stream of jigsaw puzzles. We listened to the Hysteria podcast. While we did not watch Tiger King, we did take advantage of the golden age of content we're in, taking in serial killer documentaries, Schitt's Creek, the craziness of the Rajneesh in Wild Wild Country. Sports were harder for me to follow, but the Sounders, at least, were goodly enough to make MLS Cup once again. We found ways to use Zoom for virtual quiz nights and birthday celebrations and Jackbox games... but the things off-screen were, for me, what carried me through and, the things that will endure:

Food!

The pandemic meant time to try new things. Before, getting home after work meant making the things we knew well and could do on autopilot. Weekends? Then we might try something. But the average night, we were lucky to be sitting down to eat at 8 p.m. (not a bad time for dinner, but not a time you want to float too far out due to lengthy food prep.) Suddenly, I had all the time in the world to make something. Something needed a marinade for 8 hours? I mean, my laptop was already set up in the kitchen. Easy. Could do it while on the webinar. The slow cooker got a lot of use. And we tried some of the dishes we loved to get from dining out, but that we obviously couldn't. 

The result was an expansion of household staples that will stick for years. "Taco Tuesday" - which was and may ever will be a tradition - went from basic to exciting. Grilled chicken street tacos, tinga de pollo, carnitas, two different kinds of Mexican rice... all picked up since April 2020 and very much part of the regular rotation. Pastas with garlic butter, mint ragu, or, the one that's happened the most, cacio e pepe got their chances. New stir frys. Bourbon-glazed grilled pork. Just as fixing things around the house has never been easier in the internet age, find good recipes and figuring them out was equally accessible and, finding myself in the room where the cooking happens the moment the work day was done, there was no reason not to try things.

We also instituted "Donut Friday" to support a local donut chain and to add a little end-of-week celebration. In fact, "Taco Tuesday" and "Donut Friday" became things to look forward to. 

The food - the recipes and some of the rituals - are here to stay.

Outside!

The two largest purchases I made even before Memorial Day were 1) a new grill and 2) a propane fire pit. Yes, I am that privileged dude. But you just read all that food stuff and you know a grill was on order. And the firepit was something that, for the cost of a short flight, let us have an outdoor place to safely see people and get outside the walls when there were no places to go to do so.

Both of those items have more than paid for themselves in terms of helping keep sanity. And the outdoors became the ultimate refuge. As more and more research comes out, a funny thing kept coming up: unless you were in a big crowd in super close proximity, there really never was a pandemic outside. I mean, let's be honest: if you're standing outside and there's no one near you, you're not getting sick. Of anything.

So it started with walking the rambunctious dog. 3.5 miles every day. Masking up or distancing when passing the occasional other pedestrian, but generally knowing that, in that hour or so, a walk was a walk. I started to run, too. I hated it. I still hate it. But four days a week, I'm knocking out a 5K. It's sustainable and cheaper than the gym was.

In fact, there might never have been a better time to be outdoors-inclined. I hiked a lot. The desire to not be in crowded places led me to discover new places to hike and, on a few occasions, including the big backpacking trip, long hours of solitude. You can't get a virus when no one else is there to give it to you. I hiked canyons in Yakima County, sand dunes along the Columbia River, 7,000' peaks in a National Park and managed to see the golden larches twice in the fall.

As fall turned to winter, I started to ski, making it out five times and using my camp stove to make hot meals in the parking lot at a time that hanging out in a stuffy lodge seemed iffy.

I was always someone who preferred outdoor recreation, but the pandemic better embedded me in outdoor settings and I expect that will also continue.

Weather!

A factor well out of my control was the weather. Reader, I don't know how, but Seattle lived a charmed weather life in the pandemic. I could count on two hands the number of times the dog didn't get his walk in (yes, this meant occasional walks in the Seattle drizzle, but those days were the minority). Really, truly, if I had been told that there was going to be a pandemic and people were going to have to stay home to avoid catching the bug BUT I could choose the weather to have for the duration, I'd have chosen what Seattle actually got.

Don't get me wrong: I'm basically a meteorologist now. I'd spend time looking at hourly forecasts and weather radar and, suddenly, realize the next conference call needed to be a walk-and-talk to sneak in activity in between squalls of rain. 

Even in winter, it was chilly, but nothing that prevented getting outside in some layers. And, then, one day in February, it snowed. A lot. And it was perfect. It happened on a weekend and it offered the perfect day for the quarantining masses. Hilly city streets became ski and sled runs. The park near my house became the site of what appeared to be a lively snow football game. That the vast majority of people had nowhere to go meant most people lived an old-school snow day, bundling up and walking in it, getting a fire going at home, mixing a hot drink... it was a real treat at a moment when today's wide availability of vaccine was not so certain.

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A few months back, a friend and I were texting and wondering what we might miss from the pandemic, what change to routine that, once we're back into a more traditional rhythm, might we think back and say "would be nice to get back to that without the potentially-deadly disease to dodge."

I'm not sure I know what that might be yet. Just in the past two weeks of starting to commute back to the office, I am seeing how much I missed zoning out to music on the bus, office banter and the feeling of coming home every day. I dearly miss travel and am happy that I have three(!) trips planned so far with more to come. I have tickets to two honest-to-goodness concerts, have been to two soccer games and one baseball game. I went out to dinner yesterday, sat inside, had drinks... it was everything. I have a feeling I missed those things more than anything I could miss from the lifestyle of the past 14 months.

What I do know is the things that got me through the pandemic aren't things I need to miss because they're things I am going to carry forward. If anything, I'm excited to see them manifest even more with so many of the other things I love and am getting back to.