The Coronavirus workout, courtesy of my gym.
I promise you, in three years the coronavirus infodemic, as the World Health Organization calls it, will be a jokey meme, another example—like gas shortages in the 1970s, or Gangnam Style—that obsessed people and the media for a while and then blew itself out. I went to the gym to work out after 10 days away and hand-sanitizer stands were everywhere: at the entrance, at the door to downstairs, at the fitness desk, and posted every ten feet in the weight room like tiki torches.
The gym itself, of course, was half empty, which was terrific, because those little blue foam squares I use to support my tush are usually clutched by yoga enthusiasts and hard to come by. Those who were there, however, were working out in novel and extraordinary ways: scrubbing down the hand weights with paper towels, pushing weight levers with their elbows, and contorting their bodies in acrobatic ways to avoid touching anything they didn’t have to.
I promise you, in three years the coronavirus infodemic, as the World Health Organization calls it, will be a jokey meme. I hope.