The App

A few weeks ago I wrote about the App the Australian government was planning to release which will assist in tracking down the contacts of an App-user who is diagnosed with COVID-19.

Overcast and drizzly for this morning's walk

The COVIDSafe App was released late yesterday, and I downloaded it this morning to become one of the one million plus users who have downloaded it in the first 24 hours, a much faster take-up rate than the government anticipated.  I believe I have a good understanding of how the App works - Bluetooth connection to nearby enabled smartphones, local storage of contact information, upload with user permission of contact details if diagnosed with COVID-19, prompted App deletion at pandemic end - and it all seems fine to me.  I had no reservations about downloading it and can understand that it will be a valuable aid in tracing potential COVID-19 carriers, and as such limit the chances of the virus spreading and increase the chances of social-distancing restrictions being eased earlier.

Looking south along the coast this morning

I have been saddened by the number of people declaring they will not download the App on private security grounds.  Many do not seem to understand how it works, or don't realise that much more personal information is stored by tech companies on an hourly basis via their smartphones already.  Others worry that it will be a tool for government and the police to track them, even though legislative curbs are in place.

Looking across The Haven to Terrigal this morning

I'm not so naive as to believe that the government and police will not sometimes exploit personal information, potentially illegally, to pursue their agendas, and I'm thankful there are privacy advocates keeping an eye on their behaviour.  However, when I think about how this App operates, and the benefits to society it might yield, I believe the scales are heavily weighted in favour of installing the App.  I also take comfort from the support for the App coming from technical security experts.  Finally, I have always felt that I have nothing to hide with respect to my movements, expenditures, etc., so in the unlikely event the App was misused I have nothing to fear.  I want things to return to normal as quickly as possible and this seems to support that agenda.

Returning to normal seems even further away so far as my running is concerned.  Although I only walked 5km this morning, my hip/groin was sore and uncomfortable.  I have since been researching Doctor Google and see that some of the symptoms match Greater Trochanteric Pain Syndrome, which gives me some hope that it can be repaired.  Apart from anti-inflammatories, which I am reluctant to take, treatment involves rest and stretching/strengthening of associated muscles.  I don't really want to stop running, having reached a certain level of fitness (3 out of 10, I reckon), so will just limit myself to short runs each day until it either improves, or gets worse to the point where I can't run.

Discipline vs Stupidity

Afternoon walk along Stroms Track in Bouddi National Park

When running locally, I always walk the 200 metres down to the Terrigal foreshore as a kind of warm-up before starting my run from near the Surf Club.  The walk often provides early warning of any niggles/injuries that might be an issue during my run.

Maitland Bay from Bullimah Spur this afternoon

This morning, I could feel stiffness and minor pain in my right hip as I walked down and I was dreading how it was going to feel once I started running.  Common sense would say, that if you can feel an injury walking to the start of a run, you should not run.  But I know, from experience, that this is not always the right course.  In fact, these days, I would never go for a run if I waited until I felt injury-free.  Instead, I try to find that balance between being disciplined and being stupid.

Killcare and Box Head from Bullimah Spur this afternoon

In the event, this morning's 6km plod didn't turn out to be quite as miserable as anticipated.  The pain, stiffness and restricted movement were all still there, but I was faster than yesterday.  Of course, speed is relative, and averaging over 6 minutes per kilometre is still terribly slow, but I did raise a sweat and it was a beautiful morning.  I always planned to have a rest day tomorrow (though will still walk) and am hoping I will be much improved by Tuesday.  Glass half full!

ANZAC Day

Pilot Officer Harold Byrnes

It's ANZAC Day in Australia, a day on which we remember those who have served, and sometimes died for, their country.  Usually it's a day of parades and ceremonies, but was much more low-key today because of the pandemic.  It's always a day that conjures up a range of emotions in me.  On one hand, I think about the dreadful human cost of tribalism and sectarianism, but I also think fondly about loved ones who served and my own brush with the military.

I think of my father, as a very young man, learning to fly bombers in Canada, a career with a very short life expectancy (but the war ended and he never saw action), and my much-loved maternal grandfather who served years on the Western Front in World War I and would never speak of it.

Officer Training Unit friends celebrating the end of our final 10-day
exercise in the mountains north-west of Sydney

I think about my own time in the Army as a National Service conscript in the early 1970s, training to fight in Vietnam, but ending up much more mundanely in command of a transport training platoon in Victoria.  My graduating class at OTU Scheyville was disappointed the Vietnam War was waning and we never got to use our newly-acquired skills, but that was just the testosterone talking and a desire to test ourselves.

Graduating from the Officer Training Unit

Like all serviceman, I made some good friends, none of whom I kept in touch with, and each ANZAC Day has me wondering where they are now.  It was also a period when I learnt a lot about myself -- strengths and weaknesses -- and life that later proved valuable to me.  I was exposed to a much broader cross-section of society than during my middle-class upbringing, and it was a total eye-opener for a 20-year-old.

I went into the Army the fittest I had been in my life and soon found that nearly everybody had great respect for distance runners.  It got me noticed which, in turn, opened doors and gave me opportunities I might otherwise have missed.  That has remained true throughout my life and is still a driver to train and race.  It's in my DNA now, and I can't stop.  That makes it even harder when I'm injured.  This morning I was back to a 6km plod/limp, wondering whether it's worth persevering, but I know I can't help myself.

Going for less than one

Another glorious dawn at Terrigal beach

There were some interesting charts used by Australia's Chief Medical Officer today during the Prime Minister's press conference.  By state, they showed the COVID-19 community transmission reproduction rate (the number of people infected by each carrier) trending around one.  It needs to be below one for the government (and me) to be happy that the pandemic is under control in Australia.  Zero would be nice, but that seems unlikely for some time.

For non-Australian blog readers, we have had 6,661 total cases (5,045 recovered) and 75 deaths.  Our testing rate is one of the highest in the world, similar to Canada, about 40% higher than the US, and six times higher than the UK.  Our positive test rate is at the low end: 1.5% compared to 6.5% in Canada, 18.5% in the US and 31% in the UK. Australia is the place to be.

Bumped into clubmates, Graham and Kev, while on my run

With the reproduction rate sustainably below one, the government will be encouraged to gradually loosen restrictions.  Schools will be back by 1 June, and they are already talking about restarting community sport, which is of particular interest.  I gather there will be new guidelines released on 11 May, assuming the reproduction rate stays below one.  I doubt they will permit outdoor gatherings of over 100 people, as is needed for my running club to restart operations, but maybe that will happen before the end of the year if all goes well.

Social-distancing in Terrigal this morning

On the other hand, there are also official warnings from our state leaders that the winter will bring a resurgence in cases, and I'm not getting my hopes up just yet.

I didn't exactly have a resurgence of fitness on my 6km run this morning, but at least it was less painful and a little faster than yesterday, giving me some hope that my current injury is nerve-related.  I'll stick to just 6km runs for the time being and see how the next few days go.

Ups and downs

Photo from Julie's morning run

Well, I was feeling very positive about life around 9:00am last Saturday morning.

I had earlier finished my best run for a while, and was anticipating, as I had been encouraged to believe, that a major policy decision about how my running club operates during the pandemic would be changed at a meeting later that morning.

Photo from Julie's morning run

Alas, five days later, my mood is much less sanguine.  Something is going on in my right hip, and I limped around just 6km this morning, uncomfortable and in some pain.  I'm hoping that it is a pinched nerve, but fear it may be something more fundamental (two of my younger brothers have hip replacements, though they have an underlying genetic medical condition I escaped).

Photo from Julie's morning run

So far as the running club goes, the disliked policy remains unchanged, and I fear, along with some good friends, that if pandemic social-distancing restrictions continue through the end of the year, the club will suffer growing membership and financial problems.  It's affecting my mood to some degree (and the mood of others more seriously).  I tell myself that it is just a running club, and that I shouldn't care about it so much, but I have invested a lot of time in its well-being over the years, and it's hard to see its future risked.

Oh well, many people have far bigger problems than me in the current climate, and I know that.  Running injuries and recreational club management are definitely first-world issues, and I have good health and am financially secure, so need to keep things in perspective.

Potential

All over the world, social-distancing restrictions vary significantly between jurisdictions.  Even between Australia states there can be almost inexplicable differences, as I wrote in my Common Sense vs Simple Rules post.

One of those differences relates to golf.  In New South Wales we are allowed to play golf, so long as we play in pairs, have one person per cart (if using one), don't remove pins from holes and keep 1.5 metres apart.  In Victoria, you are not allowed to play golf.

I'm not much of a golfer, but do play nine holes occasionally with some runner friends, usually at The Springs, a beautiful course about 40 minutes drive from home.  We are pretty much as good (or as bad) as each other, so all have a chance of winning on any particular day.

We played today, and apart from the attractions of golf, it was a glorious morning, the course was green, surrounded by bush with expansive views across the Somersby plateau, and we had it largely to ourselves.  We had to play as pairs, instead of as a foursome, and I didn't win, but started and finished with a par (with a lot of rubbish in between).  Those two good holes are enough to make me think that I can do better and I'll be back. 

I believe that, just as those good holes define my golf potential, my best running days define my running potential.  I tried to remember that as I limped around a very slow 6km in the dark very early this morning.  Recent runs, yesterday and Saturday, had me thinking that I was perhaps on the way to realising that potential, but my right hip was sore today and it was hard not to be pessimistic about my running comeback.  Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.

The Hammer and the Dance

Terrigal sunrise this morning (courtesy Julie)

As usual, I'm reading, watching and listening to authoritative reports about COVID-19 and our path back to normalcy.  On the US Public Newshour today, there was an interview with Donald McNeil, an opinion writer with the New York Times about the future path in the US.

He used the phrase "The Hammer and the Dance", coined by Tomas Pueyo, to describe how the US emergence from the COVID-19 pandemic will unfold.  The Hammer will be used to deal with outbreaks, as has happened in New York, and the Dance will occur as restrictions are eased and people are allowed back onto the "dance floor".

Looking north east this morning (courtesy Julie)

How many people are allowed on the "dance floor" (i.e., what restrictions are lifted) needs to be finely judged to minimise the risk of further serious community spread.  If there is another outbreak, the dance floor will be cleared and the Hammer used again.  He expects this will be what happens in the US until a vaccine or effective treatment is deployed,

or 70% of the population has been infected and recovered (it is estimated 3% of the US population has been infected thus far).

Terrigal Lagoon sunrise (courtesy Julie)

Australia is in a better place than the US.  We have a more compliant population and more centralised coordination, along with a much lower, and falling, rate of infection.  We are going to be gradually allowed back on the "dance floor" in the next few months, but our much lower number of infections, coupled with testing, tracing and isolation, make it less likely the Hammer will need to be used.  But you couldn't rule it out.

The Hammer and the Dance analogy also applies to my running recovery.  I have started to dance, managing 15km this morning at a reasonable pace, but back and hip soreness are still restricting my range of movement and I have been sore walking around post-run.  Nevertheless, I'm in a better place than I have been for a month, though I would only rate my current fitness as a "3" out of a possible "10".  I want to keep increasing the volume, but can feel that Hammer poised overhead.