Novid?

We’re getting ready for year four of the pandemic, and I have not had covid. At least, not that I know of. And at least, not yet (*knocks on wood*). Am I a novid?

There are folks out there who have not gotten the virus, even after multiple exposures. Right now, I count myself among them.

Maybe it’s the precautions we took seriously at the beginning and coupled with my general germ aversion. Perhaps it’s the good fortune of working and studying from home that I’ve enjoyed at various points throughout the pandemic. Maybe, as one South Korean doctor infamously suggested, it’s because I have no friends. Or maybe it’s luck or genetics or some combination of all of the above and the vaccine.


How have I been avoiding the virus? Well, here’s a brief recap of our pandemic timeline:

January 2020, Hong Kong –

We run the Hong Kong 100, interacting with runners from around the world and across China – including Wuhan. Immediately after the race, we visit our families in Canada and the US. When news of the virus breaks, we genuinely fret that one of us could be patient zero in North America.

February 2020, Canada –

A series of flight delays, school closures and general covid confusion results in us never going back home – which at that time was Qingdao, China. We head for Northern California instead, to wait out what we think is an epidemic (the halcyon days of wild optimism during which we think this will all be over in a few months).

March 2020, California –

But of course, the pandemic catches up to us. We sneak in one last pre-pandemic ultra at Antelope Canyon in Arizona just before cases began spreading like wildfire across the US. I start writing the covid chronicles (sporadically) while teaching online and furiously plotting a new path forward.

Running in the redwoods: early 2020
April 2020, California –

The darkest hour of that first pandemic year. State and county park closures have us terrified that our local trails were about to close, trapping us inside indefinitely.

June 2020, California –

Case counts drop. Our teaching term ends: the last remnant of our life in China. We get overexcited at these developments and plan a multistate road trip…that we wind up cancelling due to fear of catching covid on the road or bringing it home to vulnerable family members. Instead, we go back to school ourselves.

August 2020, California –

The first in what would become a hilariously tragic sequence of job losses. Our gigs at a Saudi university are the first in line to fall, to be followed in swift order by many others. Correspondingly, all of our races for late 2020 and early 2021 are cancelled. We shift our focus to strength-building.

Thinking globally, running locally: early 2020
November 2020, California –

I have to take a leave of absence from my teaching credential program due to lack of a practicum placement. Stress about family illness and my legal status in the US at an all-time high – but the entire family remains miraculously covid-free through the holidays.

January 2021, not Fiji –

The new year starts off with a devastating blow to our career and adventure dreams: we fail to move to Fiji after a series of virus-related visa woes and issues with our school.

March 2021, California –

We are eligible for vaccines and eagerly go out to get them! But our celebration takes place in the car. We remain cautious about wearing masks and avoiding crowds. We also continue to evade infection.

April 2021, Utah –

We eventually do embark on a Great American Road Trip. We hit Utah to take part in the Zion Ultras and see the state’s five fabulous national parks!

May 2021, not Taiwan –

We find our dream job in Taiwan immediately before the pandemic hits the isolated island country. We land and lose this gig within the span of a month, prompting Kent to flee the field – possibly for good.

June 2021, California –

Similarly, I also try on a different line of work at California State Parks for the summer. The Delta variant of the virus rises, but we’re wiser now. I work with the public: but feel confident as I’m outdoors (and usually masked anyway).

A California State Park Carrie: summer 2021
November 2021, California/Canada/Thailand –

I finally get my green card and with it, the freedom to travel. Almost simultaneously, the border to Canada opens at long last. We get booster shots, then make an urgent trip up north to see my family. Following that, possibly unable to face another pandemic winter, I abruptly decamp North America for warmer climes in Thailand.

December 2021, Bangkok –

Kent joins me in Bangkok and it feels a little like stepping back in time. We enjoy a month or so of decreased stress as we participate in local events, such as Thailand by UTMB and Ultra-Trail Phuket!

January 2022, Bangkok –

The Omicron wave breaks across Southeast Asia. Times are tense at my local school. I’m testing frequently, but also spending time indoors with others for the first time since before the pandemic. I opt out of a school field trip, but we continue to travel around the country, albeit carefully.

February 2022, Bangkok –

Kent gets covid. Luckily, it is a mild case. We decide to quarantine together. I continue to test negative.

March 2022, Koh Chang –

We have a few harrowing moments during which we’re not sure if we can run the Ultra-Trail Koh Chang: a race we’ve dreamed about running for years and are finally in prime position to do. But we pass our covid tests and hit the trails!

April 2022, California –

We visit family in California. I continue to avoid getting sick, despite a drastic change in climate and seasonal illnesses circulating among friends and family members.

May 2022, Canada –

We visit family in Canada. Although we have a close encounter with a couple of covid patients, mandatory airport testing confirms that I did not pick up an asymptomatic case.

June 2022, Hawaii –

Masked and mainly outdoors, we go about our business in our new home. For the first time, I experience covid symptoms: stuffy nose, exhaustion, hair loss. These turn out to be related to allergies and hard water and not the coronavirus.

Happy – and healthy – in HI!

So there you have it: a short history of this virus and I.

Some – but not all – family members on both sides have had the virus, so the fact that I’ve evaded it thus far is probably not a natural, genetic-gift kind of immunity.

Could it be a lack of contact? We avoided restaurants, shopping malls and gatherings of almost any kind during our stint in California: behaviors that almost certainly helped. Plus, we were based in a remote area with relatively low case counts – and we were also fortunate to be working and studying from home for the first year of the pandemic.

Furthermore, we didn’t fly or leave the state for a year and a half (I almost can’t believe that’s a fact.). During the same period, almost all of our dates with friends and family (outside the Stander household) were virtual. You could also say I’m also lucky to be an introvert with low social needs. I didn’t get out much – but neither did I get struck down with sickness.

How Kent got the virus while working from home and studiously avoiding the general public remains a mystery. He thinks it could have been our building’s gym; while I wonder if I didn’t bring it home from school myself on an earlier timeline.

How I didn’t get the virus from Kent makes sense if I had an asymptomatic case days or weeks earlier. However, I was testing pretty regularly for school, so it’s tough to imagine getting a completely symptom-free infection that happened to fall exactly between two testing windows – but who knows. It seems much more probable that I encountered the virus working outside the home, but my frequent testing makes it less of a certainty.

On the other hand, if I didn’t have covid first, then I’m not sure how I didn’t pick it up from Kent. We quarantined, but not from each other, and we lived in a tiny studio with no ventilation system. And, you know, we’re close!

I rarely get sick, except at the worst possible times (exhibit a and exhibit b), so it could just be that I managed to skip this one along with others of its ilk. I like to think that it’s my fastidious habits that kept me safe this time: but I realize that’s probably just a comforting thought. Maybe I have had it without knowing, or maybe my turn has just not come up.