Member-only story
This Is Us
How Do You Report on a Pandemic That Hits Home?
Putting the Covid-19 pandemic into words hasn’t been easy, even for someone who writes words for a living
Not long ago, while the sun was shining, I realized I hadn’t gone for a “socially distanced” run in at least two weeks, so I changed out of my sweatpants and into some jogging shorts, threw on a mask, grabbed a winter glove for opening doors, and stepped out into the refreshing spring air.
For about a mile, things felt good. As I neared the National Mall, I felt a small tinge of regret. No, there wasn’t an airshow luring groups of bystanders onto America’s front lawn, but there were certainly enough families, runners, and riders of all sorts, which made me hold my breath every few feet and consider turning back. But I needed the exercise to clear my mind and figured these people did too. Most wore masks and stayed in their own space. It’s okay, I thought.
Still, I ran to a side street, if only to feel a little less weird about jogging with a mask on in a crowd of people also wearing masks. Encountering fewer people but less sidewalk space to dodge them, I cut to the right and aimed for the grass. Before I made it, I missed a step, tripped over a tree stump, and skidded into the gravel hands first.
I felt a few things: a tiny scrape on my hand and heat in my cheeks and the back of my head (no doubt from the glaring eyeballs of drivers at a nearby red light). For a minute after falling, I oddly enjoyed the bright-red smear of blood on my hand. It almost felt… normal.
Looking up from the gravel, I realized nobody was even looking or heading my way to ask if I was okay. I didn’t want them to. That wouldn’t be social distanc—
That’s when it hit me. Seeing all the people running by with masks on, I nearly gagged at the realization of how weird all this was, how terrible it all felt. I had sunglasses on, so no one could see that I was crying—not from the pain, but from the realization that none of this was normal. For weeks, months now, nothing had been normal.
It had been just over a month since I got the text that my mom—showing mild coronavirus symptoms herself — had dropped my…
