After being away, it’s a new kind of fun to run in my old haunts. I’m mostly running in new haunts these days, but upon returning to close to my old locale I have on occasion yes, gotten in my little car, Huckleberry Fit, and tootled to some of my favorite spots (though I have not yet paid for parking to run – even that would be crossing the line). And it’s funny – I notice houses I never saw before, appreciate the diversity of people exercising I usually take for granted, and in general I feel like I’m evoking my friend Sarah who believes in seeing familiar places as a tourist does: exhilarating, wondrous and a jolt to all senses.
Same thing with going back to the YMCA. Everything’s the same, but I’m grateful for wide lanes (or lanes at all as hotel pools are not notorious for their lap-swim-ability), for the Welcome Desk and the sock drive, for feeling a sense of community after months of being rather solo. You’d think I’d be used to returning to where I used to work out – every so often I go back to the first pool I swam at and I immediately feel like I’m 15 again.
Don’t get me wrong – in many ways I miss the open road, and the never-ending sense of not knowing what’s around the corner on a run. And I definitely miss hoping for a hot tub at a bed and breakfast (so the best, especially in Moab). I’ll be telling the tales from the road for awhile too, so the nostalgia for traveling will stay fresh for a long time to come. But it’ll be a nice juxtaposition to being back and checking out my home with brand new eyes.