Day 210: Home-Sickness and Finding "Home"

"Though I'm far away, I know I'll stay, I know I'll stay right there with you." 

Yesterday was a hard day for me. After 10 days of an epic road trip and adventures across the country, I had to take my road trip partner and one of my best friends to the airport to fly back "home." I say "home" with quotes because my home now is here in Colorado, the place I've dreamt of living since I was a kid, but almost all of my friends and family are back on the east coast far far away from me. I have never been good at change, but this is a change I wanted. So why did I feel like bursting into tears on the drive back to my new home from the airport? Why was I wishing that I was on that plane back to Virginia? Shouldn't I be overwhelmed with excitement and joy? This was my dream; move to Colorado and climb and run outside more in the most beautiful surroundings. So why did I feel so crummy inside?

The rest of my day flew by, but when work was over I found myself at a bit of a loss as of what to do. So I decided to go for a run. I have learned over time that if I have a problem that I most likely can fix, running is how I work through it. However, if I have a problem which I have no control over, climbing is the way to go. I can use my time on the wall/rock to refocus my frustrated energy and feel better after, even if I can't "solve" my problem. As for last night, I knew that I could solve this problem of being homesick, so I decided to go for a run. 

Monday, July 1st, 2013; 7:32pm

It is warm out here, but not hot. It's comfortable. I know it is hotter than I think. I am not yet used to this desert weather, but I already love it. I was going for a run at 7:30 at night knowing it wouldn't get dark for at least another hour. I would have an hour and change to feel the heat and make my brain feel better about this westwardly move. I was running with Jean, we were taking it slow up the hill from our house. Her legs and body were sore from her adventure this past weekend up a 14-er. That's right, my roommate is a bad-ass. She is joining me for part of my run till we get to a nearby park where she is going to go play ultimate. I am impressed. One day she is above 14k feet on a mountain summit and the next day she is playing ultimate. I was not going to play ultimate. I have a weak ankle and I am mildly terrified of frisbees. Yes, that's right, you read that right. I am afraid of a circular disc being hurled at my face. I've tried to like it, but that is one thing that just isn't for me. So we parted ways at the park and she gave me directions to another park a couple of miles away with a beautiful lake. I headed off in the direction of the lake.

While I was glad to be alone with my thoughts on this run, I also was not thrilled for the gears to churn away and the missing-folks-back-east feelings to come back. I queued up the road trip playlist Sara and I had created. I was instantly missing my friend who I had spent almost all-day-every-day with for the last 10 days. I ran up one hill, then another, then another. One thing about Boulder is that it is all hills, every where you go. So if you are like me and need quite a bit of work on hills, it's going to kick you into shape pretty fast. 

While I was running up all those hills, I kept catching a glimpse of the side of my left thigh where my most recent tattoo is. It was just barely out of the corner of my eye, but I'd see just one of the three beautiful peaks and it would make me smile. The Flat Irons are the most beautiful mountains I have ever seen. When I saw them for the first time, I knew I was home. Really home. Something in my heart changed when I saw those mountains, and I felt full and complete. The Flat Irons are so iconic and majestic; they rise up like three beautiful permanent waves through the trees. There really is nothing like the sight of them.  Catching the glimpse of my tattoo of them on my leg reminded me that I made this decision for the right reasons. I moved to Colorado to run, climb, and enjoy the outdoors more. I moved here because I love sunshine and dirt trails, I love epic sunsets over mountain peaks, I love unlimited climbing access and chalky hands. I love tanks tops and flip flops. And I love my running shorts where I can see my favorite tattoo. 

My fifth tattoo: "I run, therefore I am" under the beautiful Flat Irons

I was still running up hills. Well okay, let's be honest, there was a lot of walking. I mean there was a couple of pretty steep parts and I did run uphill as much as I could, but I am still very much healing and wasn't about to push my ankle too much. I was really enjoying it though. I was running past so many beautiful unique houses and there were so many other people out running, walking, and riding bikes. It made me so happy to see so many people outside that I realized I was grinning like an idiot. But I genuinely felt really happy. So I kept running. I wasn't sure how many miles I (mostly my ankle) could handle, but I figured I'd just keep going for as long as I could/wanted to. 

I followed Jean's directions and found a paved trail with a dirt one right next to it. I very happily ran on the dirt path, feeling like my knees were thanking me for the break from the pavement. The dirt trail wound up and over and around (I did get a little lost for a bit, going about a half a mile in the wrong direction, haha!) and I was having a blast chasing the up hills and flying on the down hills. Then I turned around for a brief moment, and I saw this: 

View of the Flat Irons from Wonderland Lake

I do miss my friends and family back east, I really do. I should have told you all just how much you mean to me before I left. I feel like I did a really crappy job of explaining how amazing you all are. So please know that when I visit each of you are getting the biggest hug. I have told many of you that I had been trying to leave the DC metro area for years, pretty much since I moved there. But the reason I stayed year after year after year was the people. I made such incredible friends and over and over again having those people in my every-day life made me not want to leave. Seeing that view of the Flat Irons filled me with joy, but I also instantly wanted to tell someone back home about it. This made stopping for the moment to take that picture a little bittersweet. While I was running and thinking about all of the amazing people back east, I came to the very solid resolution that moving does Not need to mean leaving or saying goodbye. It's more of a see you later. I never want to loose contact with my friends back home. I still want to text, call, Skype, and Vox you guys, so just know that I won't be fading away any time soon.

I was still running. This thought occurred to me when I was coming up on the end of the circle around the lake. I had not stopped running to walk for about 15 minutes straight. I have not been able to do this since my ankle injury has healed enough for me to run. I always have to walk, even just for a minute, to give my ankle a break. But I hadn't stopped. And I didn't need to stop, my ankle felt okay. And cue another giant silly grin. I kept running along the trail back the way I came. Then as I was running over the last hill (till it was all downhill), I saw this sunset:

Sunset on my evening run

Moving to a new place can be scary. It can be nerve-wracking and overwhelming. It can be lonely and you might be home sick. But if it was the right decision, and you moved there because it is somewhere You want to be and will allow You chase some dream You have, then it will quickly feel like home. Seeing that incredible sunset as I crested the last hill before cruising home made me remember all of the reasons I moved to Colorado and that I will still have my connections to those people I love back east. But Boulder is home now, and I am really truly glad that I moved out here.

Happy trails. :)