Coping with COVID: Buck hated exercising. She now does yoga

Rochester artist Cassandra Buck has always abhorred exercising. 

Just hates it. I mean, really really hates it. 

Then two weeks ago, Buck found herself doing something completely out of character. A week before the coronavirus was declared a pandemic, in an almost foreboding intimation of the upheaval ahead, Buck began doing yoga. 

Buck does a "couple of yoga poses" right after her morning cup of coffee and preparing breakfast for her two children," stealing a few solitary moments in her bedroom.

Nothing very complicated. Basic stuff. Just enough to sooth and relax her in these nerve-wracking times. 

"I've seen pictures on Pinterest of different strengthening poses. I don't know remember what it's called," Buck said. "You're on your knees and you put your hands out, face down, on the walls and really stretch out your shoulders, back and neck. I have a lot of neck issues, so it's really helped with that."

Buck is both a business owner and server at Forager Brewery, so the coronavirus pandemic and the measures put in place to contain it delivered twin blows to her livelihood.

She closed her fine art business, "Clover & Rose," 519 Second Ave. NW, Rochester, to enforce the social distancing that health experts have urged, not entirely certain whether she will be able to open it again. 

And when Gov. Tim Walz closed all restaurants and bars, Buck lost her job as a server that "helped pay the bills."

To be sure, there have been some saving graces. Her husband, Chris Gaffron, works in a lab at Mayo Clinic, so her family is not without a paycheck. And she recently received a grant from the Southeastern Minnesota Arts Council that will help keep her business afloat. 

Buck knows there are others who have it worse: Single parents who work at bars and restaurants and now find themselves cut off from their sole source of income.

"It's hard for everybody," Buck said. "It's crazy right now."

Interviews with other Rochester residents revealed the different ways people are trying to grind out the boredom, anxiety and free time they now have. 

August John, 24, was a graduate student working on his doctorate degree when Mayo Clinic suspended its in-person graduate school classes. Now he takes all his classes online. His lab work has been suspended. John has used his free time to learn coding. 

It feels like life is slowing down, he said. 

"Graduate school has a breakneck pace -- really a lot of work all the time," John said. "I know some people have taken this to be a breather through unforeseen circumstances."

John said the pandemic hasn't created any worries for his personal safety. The anxiety and stress he feels are for his elderly family members and others for whom the pandemic poses a more deadly threat. 

He has friends who work in HIV research and with vulnerable populations, and "they are really concerned about their patients," John said

Andrew Johnson, an IBM employee, now works from home since a company directive instructed most employees to work remotely. Right before the Rochester library closed, he strolled out with an armful of documentaries. 

"It's mostly Celtic history and British history," Johnson said. "It's an avenue I haven't watched anything about, so I thought I'd explore something new."

And then there are the people who are incapable of worry. Brett Olson, a Zumbro Falls resident and co-founder of the nonprofit Renewing the Countryside, agrees that the pandemic and state's response has "just slowed everything down."

Olson doesn't find the times stressful, but then he is a Swede.

"Am I being more careful? Sure," he said. "But my not being stressed about it isn't for a lack of awareness and concern. It's just that being concerned isn't going to help the problem that's underlying it."