Coronavirus diary - 6 April 2020

Two weeks into lockdown and I’ve entered a period of acceptance, of a new reality. Once everything had shutdown, that anxious feeling of a collapse of my world order steadied, and I found myself in a fairly quiet, calm place. Our little garden, our small farm-worker’s cottage on the edge of Totnes, the dirt lanes and country roads around our house, have become our entire world. My wife, my children and our two neighbours are the only people I regularly talk to in person. It’s lucky that we all get on, and I really feel for people stuck in a situation that isn’t so tranquil.

This narrowing of horizons, of our world getting smaller, is in some ways at odds with the global scale of this crisis. But I’ve found that the more I look outwards, the more I follow the news, the more I go on social media and read the angry judgements on people visiting parks, and the anger against runners, the more I become unnerved. If you go outside you are killing people, seems to be the sentiment. By running outside, you’re pretty much Pol Pot.

But then I head out into the lanes for a run. Yesterday I wore running gloves, not so much to protect myself - though maybe it can help? - but to show other people that I was aware of their concerns and I was trying to do something about it. Don’t hate me for running, my gloves said.

Yet everyone I passed smiled and said good afternoon. Nobody jumped out of my way as they had done a few weeks ago. It seems that offline, in the real world, we are all finding our way, our sense of equilibrium with this thing. Because it is a case of balance. There is a reason almost all the lockdowns around the world are allowing people out to exercise. Because if you get this virus, if you’re strong and healthy you have a better chance of fighting it off. The fresh air, the movement, the blood pumping around your body is all actually helping.

And for your mental health, too, exercise is important. The governor of New York, Andrew Cuomo, was talking about this yesterday. New York is one of the world’s worst coronavirus hotspots, and Cuomo has been praised for his handling of the crisis. He has called this his generation’s war effort. And what is he, personally, doing about it? He says he has taken up running. He says there is a risk that cabin fever, and the resulting mental health issues, which can then spiral into physical weakness in the face of illness, could become a second epidemic. Even his dog is feeling cabin fever, he says. So he is running. With his dog. Doing his bit to help.

So we all need to find peace somehow with our reduced horizons for now. Even the stress of losing income - which I’m also facing - is something we have no choice but to deal with as best we can. Since before I was born, my parents have always listened to the teachings of a man called Prem Rawat. It’s why I’m called Adharanand (sanskrit for Eternal Bliss). Rawat’s words have been an ever-present accompaniment to my life and right now he too is in lockdown somewhere. And each day he records a 15-minute talk into his phone and posts it online. I’m finding them extremely helpful. He talks about focusing in on your inner strength, your inner joy, which you carry with you regardless of everything else going on in the world. And if you can do that, he says, then even in lockdown you can still feel calm and peaceful.

Running forces you to become aware of this inner strength and joy, because regardless of the lockdown, or the decisions of the world leaders, or the overriding sense of despair and anxiety in the world, once you start running you’re back in that place where it is just you, moving, breathing. It’s so simple, yet so powerful, and it benefits not just you, but everyone. Because if you’re healthy and calm, you’re helping the situation. While if you’re sitting there scrolling through Facebook, panicking and tweeting your anger about those people running past the window, well, I’m not so sure.

The longer this goes on, the more I find myself drawing strength from my ultra running. In some ways the start and the finish of an ultra are the hardest parts. The start because the thought of what lies ahead, the scale of the task, is so big, it can feel overwhelming. And then the end because you’re so tired. But right now I’m in that happy mid-race section where I’m just ticking over, enjoying the process, enjoying the space I have managed to eke out for myself.

I just hope I don’t reach a point where I’m sitting down shaking my head and saying I can’t go on. Because as I learned in my two years of ultra running, you always have more than you think. You are stronger and more determined than you realise. So let’s keep moving, one day at a time. Don’t think about the finish. Not yet.