This low-tech habit keeps me in touch during the lonely pandemic
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In order to get dressed, it’s time to “cover up”.After trying six masks Through a few months, I chose one Zhengsa: Bright yellow (so no one has any excuses to crush me), breathable, wicking, no fog, so I can see through the glasses. Then I took one of our “technical” steps: Map my run application. Without a chip, watch or Bluetooth, it can save a detailed map of your route, speed, time, and for better measurement, you can take a photo of yourself to show how messy you are afterwards. You can email this information to any companion to keep everyone honest. Little did I know that running would become a carrier of honesty.
I ran a few blocks to find Ray. He was wearing a green Celtic mask from an NBA store, and a green Celtic jersey from an NBA store. I think he and the pair of green striped Nike Pegasus he wore in college The shoes look a lot like Gumby. When he rushed to a block, I dialed his phone, had a meeting with Dave, and we set off. The fastest conference call in the East is underway, and we must determine our direction. “The United Nations is ahead,” I told Dave in Washington, DC when Ray and I cut into the East River. “The State Department is on my right,” Dave replied. We were quiet for most of our first run, with only heavy breathing and rhythmic footsteps, and occasionally jokes about exercise. But this is not surprising.
We heard each other clearly. Maybe it’s my Belkin wired headset. (Don’t let me start On ordinary old earplugs It drops every 50 feet. ) I am very grateful for this because there are so many things to listen to.
This is one of the most time I have spent with my friends in these years. When you have no family, it seems that the rope is worn out. Coupled with an epidemic, the umbilical cord may be completely untied. But when we run, most of the twice a week, our phone makes me feel that the rope is being woven together again. In contrast, texts, memes, and email links with other people seem to have no soul.
“I want to start a new company,” Ray said one morning, “I feel very nervous. But I am full of energy.”
“My child didn’t make new friends,” Dave said the other day. “And they are so young.”
“I suddenly understood,” I confessed at dawn one day, “I may have no children.”
That one brought an unusual silence. Of course, we all know that this is not a topic we can solve. But I think they need to hear it and understand that being single is more than just an alternative source of stimulation for them. I need to completely reject this hypothesis. I think it worked, I think they understand.
As soon as autumn arrived, we started talking about our college days, when we called home from a public phone, saved term papers on a floppy disk, and left notes on the door about where we were. I also started wearing the best thing I ever had to keep warm: a 30-year-old college-age bright red North Face shell, which looked as new as the day I got it. I wear it all winter, rain or shine. They need to use whatever they use on the north wall to make humans.
One morning, Dave started the call by telling an old story that we have heard more than 100 times. A story about his father visiting him at school. He always taught that, one day after training, he frightened the basketball coach (and Dave) by showing the team the correct shooting technique. Since the 1950s. Then Dave said, “He died last night.”
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