Category: Life Abroad

Day 21

via The Washington Post

At first, I found this article depressing and sad. Later in the day though, I began to sense its deeper beauty. The author’s first-hand account as an emergency-room physician inside a New York City hospital reminded me that, while I do what is asked of me (stay inside), what is asked of so many others is to tend to, care for and fight for the infected and sick, often at great risk. While I worry about touching a covid-tipped elevator button or door handle when I go outside to walk our dogs, doctors, nurses, EMTs and countless others risk sickness and death every minute of their day in the service of complete strangers. Despite exhaustion and possible death, they solider on anyway. Daily, more join the fight. Maybe they don’t see themselves as heroes, but they are us tragic and complicated humans at our best in moments of crisis, and that, I think, is beautiful.

Note to self, in lockdown

Day 20.

Do less. Reflect daily on things not done. Strip the day back to its essential parts. Meet your basic needs.

Connect – to yourself; friends; loved ones. In the past, busyness and doing more stood in the way of this closeness. Often, closeness isn’t what we were looking for in the first place. In doing less, find that this is the “more” we need – closeness, connection, love.

Reconnect with yourself. Perhaps this is most important. With the ever-present mirror of your locked-down day-to-day, you can choose: to ignore it and look away, to direct it at others, or to meet it steadfastly, peering deeply into the reflected image of what you see, with all its imperfections, complications and beauty. These days gift you the material, and more importantly the time, for change.

These times may very well bring out the best and worst of us. Perhaps our worst, though, would be to emerge unchanged, on any deep level.

Lockdown – Day 3

I spent most of yesterday trying to understand where things are headed. A friend in the Bay Area sent me a link to this, and Andrea helped me track down this site. Together, the two offer guidance on not just where we are, but where things are going. It doesn’t look good.

Where we are. If you want to see where we are, I’ve been using this dashboard, courtesy of John’s Hopkins in the US.

These growth curves here are helpful to contextualize the above numbers by country.

Where we’re headed. More importantly though is what the above numbers portend to future days, weeks and months. This sums it up in a single graph (I’ve highlighted Spain, where I am presently, and the US, where I am from):

You can see how closely Spain tracks Italy, and how closely the US is tracking both, albeit 16 days behind Italy. The assumptions, which are key to understanding how to change the rate of growth, suggest that if the US waits to delay lockdown until they reach the same number of cases per 10’000 inhabitants as Italy (around 1 per 10’000), it will see ~33k confirmed cases in ~9 days, Wednesday 25-March, up from ~3.7k cases as of 4:33am EST this morning. Of course, these are confirmed cases, meaning the ones severe enough to seek testing in the first place, and likely to need more intensive medical treatment.

Based on a simple but illustrative model here, you can see what those hospitalizations mean for the health system in the US. Very soon, the number of beds needed will exceed beds available, by a factor of 6-to-1 in a little over 30 days. This is why there is so much talk about “flattening” the curve, so peak cases requiring medical treatment fall under levels of maximum capacity (as illustrated in the teal line in the below graph – existing capacity – versus the orange line of expected demand for hospitalization).

As for Europe (and the US), it will get much worse before it gets better.

The US won’t blunt the curve like South Korea did, at least not from the top at the national government level. The current focus on testing is, at best, weeks too late. In a less interconnected world, local and state actions would help. But we are interconnected, greatly so, meaning any chance for significant impact lies at the individual and family level. So please stay inside: every person makes a difference, and your actions will impact those around you, for better or worse. Very soon we may all reveal our best or worst selves, as individuals, families and as nations. If so, let us hope we like what we become.

Lockdown – Day 1

Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.

Hector Berlioz

This morning, the Catalan government asked residents not to leave their homes unless “absolutely essential.” The government is also attempting to lockdown all travel within Catalonia, closing ports, airports, train links and border crossings by road. Denmark is closing its border for 30 days, and Norway is shutting down. We had planned to relocate by car to our home in Norway sometime next week. Now it is unclear when we will be able to go.

WW2 killed around 3% of the world’s population; WW1 a little more than 1%. Worst-case scenarios suggest the world-wide death toll of this pandemic could approach 1% in the face of complete inaction by governments and apathy by those of us who are healthy. Yet actions are being taken by governments and their peoples, even if later than we might have liked, and while borders are closing, travel being restricted and “our way of life” inconvenienced, no bombs are dropping from the sky – no forced conscriptions marching our young and healthy into battle. Instead, for the sake of the elderly and those in poor health or with weak immune systems (which could be any of us at some point in time), we are asked to wash our hands, keep our distance, avoid large crowds, limit travel and for some, to stay inside. We could all think of worse.

A Year Abroad

It’s been a little over one year since we moved to Spain. Looking back, we did quite a lot in 2019.

  1. We traveled – Nice, Paris, Chamonix, La Palma, Valencia, Cadaqués
  2. We completed a 10-day silent Vipassana meditation
  3. We bought and renovated an apartment in Girona
  4. We lived in the mountains of Andorra in July, and in a tiny cabin below a glacier in Bionnassay, France in August
  5. I completed UTMB
  6. We hosted family and friends
  7. We made new friends
  8. We bought a home in Norway
  9. We had a baby, at home

Most surprising was our purchase of a home in Norway; most momentous, meeting Adya. We are thankful for it all, the product of and bookend to a decade no more.

To a Wild 2020, and beyond.

La Tossa d’Alp

Views from La Tossa d’Alp (2587m), looking east toward Cadí-Moixeró Natural Park. About 2 hours from Girona by car, Brent and I skimo’ed this back in early January and I’ve been returning most weeks for solo reps up/down. The Salomon Ultra Pirineu takes place in the mountains in the near distance.

Update #2

Today is our second day living in Girona – the city we picked, on paper, to live in while we were still back in Phoenix contemplating our move to Spain and brainstorming where best to live. After one month in Barcelona, one month in Blanes and the past four months in Banyoles – and a full 8 months since settling on Girona as the place we would live in in Spain – here we are. We purchased a small apartment on the edge of the “old” part of town with views of the Cathedral – a 5-minute walk to the train station in one direction and a 5-minute walk to the heart of the old town in the other direction (recognizable in several GoT episodes). We spent most of this week moving our items here from our rental apartment in Banyoles. While we don’t own many things, the size of our car (small) and the trips required (6) made it feel like we were moving a small village. 


Update #1


  • Buying a car. It’s tiny, but it’s emissions-friendly and gets 60+ miles to the gallon.
  • Moving into a long-term apartment. A 3-bedroom apartment a short walk from Banyoles Lake.
  • Buying a Thermomix. If NASA focused on the kitchen, they would have built this. We use it daily.
  • Our boxes arriving from the US.
  • Traveling to Chamonix, the Pyrenees, Nice and Chamonix again.
  • Andrea performing in the Barcelona orchestra.
  • Running and training – a lot.
  • Making new friends.
  • Staying in touch with family and friends not in Spain.
  • Andrea geting a bike.
  • Me getting my NIE, which means I can stay in Spain, open a bank account, get health insurance, etc.
  • Starting a garden (and a compost bin).
  • Joining a local organic food co-op in Girona.
  • Completing a 10-day silent Vipassana meditation. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.
  • Weekly volunteering at a local organic farm outside of Besalú.
  • Celebrating my mom’s birthday in Nice.
  • Celebrating Abuela’s 92nd birthday in Barcelona. With calçots.


  • Both us being sick for the entire month of January.
  • I am way behind on learning Catalan.
  • Mas Anglada in a holding pattern.

What’s upcoming?

  • Ultra racing. That’s the focus through UTMB at the end of August (a 10-year goal). First races: Transvulcania and Madeira Sky Race next month.
  • Continuing the search for our forever home.
  • Tending to our garden and our weekly to-dos.