I’m really not even going to open this by apologizing for not blogging in a while. Probably bad blogger form, but while I am a Communications professional and it might be a good idea to reflect best blogger practices on my own blog, that was never the reason I started this blog in the first place. It was a place to keep myself accountable, to ramble about running and working out not thinking anyone really would read, and then as more people did, I never really committed one way or the other to maintaining its original very loose format nor to adopting a much more structured, professional format. I guess in that way I went with looseness, even in some of its structure.
In any case, I’ve not written in a while because a) I moved halfway across the country, b) I’ve been exhausted, c) I’m not in a routine, d) I’ve run like three whole times in the last three weeks, and e) my brain has been so scrambled I wouldn’t even know what to blog about.
So that’s why I’m writing now. I’m writing about not knowing anything.
I uprooted my life two weeks ago, put everything I own into a moving truck and drove from Maryland down through Virginia, across Tennessee and Arkansas and into East Texas where I have an apartment and my trusty cat Jessie and a new job where I have more responsibility and fewer resources to accomplish them with. Not even just like, budget or manpower, but even just knowledge of the people and the markets.
One of the things I love about America is that there are like 6 trillion different cultures in it. Every time you think you can describe a place there is a subculture there countering that description. It’s why I love to travel and “collect” places.
But you know what they say, “they” being my favorite movie of all time.
I’m working to make east Texas a home. Sometimes, most of the time, it feels like I’m in the right place. The last few days have brought dreary weather and frustrating news, and the inevitable homesickness and second-guessing sets in. I would be worried if I could move all this way and never be homesick or unsure, because that would mean I never loved or felt safe at home, or that I lack the capacity to miss people or a place. I know that’s all it is. Lack of familiarity, not knowing anyone besides my colleagues, and all the overwhelming unsureness and self-consciousness that comes with taking on a new professional role.
Just a lot of doubt.
Running is, of course, the time I feel the best. I joined a gym, because I haven’t had hot water in my apartment since I moved in (don’t get me started) and also because I don’t know the lay of the land just yet to know where the best places to run outside are. It’s come in handy during the crappy weather this week, but I’m also desperate to get into a routine. Every time a new weekend thing for work gets thrown at me my OCD need for routine and concurrent need for freedom to do with my previously scheduled free time as I please gets thrown for a loop.
But I start running, start focusing on what I know – the rhythm of my breath, the cadence of the swing of my arms, the fall of my feet – and it’s the only thing here that feels like home 100% of the time.
I need to run and get into my weekly workout routine. It’s what keeps me sane.
But I haven’t been able to settle in yet. It’s always something. Furniture to wait for to be delivered, car to take in for inspection, bad weather trapping me inside my second floor apartment from treacherous icy stairs, feeling like I have to go to this happy hour in an attempt to meet people and make some friends. Generally being exhausted emotionally. What they don’t tell you is that “staying positive” is toll-taking. Maybe I just kind of want to be a little bit sad or worried. Does it mean I want to pack up and go home? Absolutely not.
It just means I have really wonderful people at home 1,200 miles away that I love and miss and that I haven’t quite settled in yet. When I’m home I’m itching to travel. When I’m out I look forward to coming home through my front door and collapsing on the couch.
I just need some structure and built into that structure, some freedom. The beautiful thing about the country is that the air is so clean and fresh and the land so wide and beautiful you can’t help but feel free. The surprising thing is you can also feel kind of confined in it — nothing is walking distance except more pretty countryside.
I need my Monday night strength training class to make Mondays brighter. I need my weekend long run to pump fresh air into my lungs and make vegging out on the couch the rest of the day in my compression socks feel like luxury. I need a friend I can just shoot the shit with about all the things we both hate at happy hour with.
I need spring. I need laughter. I need hugs.
I need sleep because of course as soon as the sun comes out to play again I’ll be fine, I’m sure.