Finding a running community

Running was a big part of my life in Vermont. I volunteered at local races, walked or ran with a large group of friends throughout the week, went on weekend trips to races, and always saw someone I knew at a race.

Today Mike and I took part in the first annual Heroes Run in Prescott to honor the 19 firefighters killed fighting the Yarnell fire the end of June. The community hosts a fundraiser or memorial just about every week, raising money to help the families.

the back of the race t-shirt honoring the 19 firefighters

Today's 2 mile and 10K races were held on the Brownlow Trail, a hilly system only two miles from our house. When we arrived at the race at 5:20am it was still dark, and I remembered volunteering at several Vermont races where we set up in the dark. The sun came up pink and rosy in the East and by the time we started at 6:15 headlamps were no longer necessary.

As I slogged up the rocky, washed out sections of the trail I thought about several people I know participating in the 100 on 100 relay today in Vermont. I shifted my gaze from the ground in front of me to the mountains, granite dells, and town of Prescott in the distance when the course ran along the ridgeline, trying to pick out landmarks in a town where we've lived for two weeks. When I passed the volunteers at the aid stations, I thought about the hundreds of people who volunteered at the local races in Vermont, many of them not runners themselves, but happy to cheer and encourage everyone on the course.

All small-town races end the same way:  we congratulate each other as we come through the finish line, thank the volunteer who hands us a bottle of water, and stand around and talk about the race. I met Steve Orth, one of the active members of the local Mountain Milers running group, who told me about several races in the next month and invited me to the local group training runs.

I'm one step closer to truly feeling at home in our new community.

Groceries!

Today I did our first major grocery shopping trip in over five weeks.

During our last two weeks in Vermont, meals were planned around what we had on hand in an effort to use up as much food as possible. I gave away full boxes and cans of food to the food shelf and asked friends if they wanted mostly-full boxes.

We ate out for two weeks while moving out of the Vermont house and traveling by motorcycle to Arizona. When we moved into our home in Prescott, AZ we had no pots, pans, utensils, etc. We ate cereal in plastic bowls with plastic spoons, made sandwiches, or cooked frozen meals in the microwave or oven.

Wednesday our furniture and household goods arrived, and we celebrated by grilling steak and microwaving fresh potatoes and frozen corn. We ate on the back deck with real, it-needs-to-be-washed dishes and silverware and felt like the camping trip in the new house was finally at an end.

Now the house is stocked with food in the pantry, fridge and freezer. I'm planning fresh sweet corn, sauteed chicken and fresh broccoli for dinner using an actual recipe, and have meals for next week already picked out.

We still have unpacked boxes in every room, only one chair in the living room, and I haven't yet found some of the silverware. It feels like getting back into pre-baby shape after having a child:  everyone tells us it takes time and patience to get the house arranged and everything unpacked.

I'm hoping it doesn't take nine months.

Boxes everywhere we look

Furniture and box after box of our household goods were delivered today!

The moving company packed up our stuff in Vermont on July 23rd. 22 days later everything was delivered to our house in Arizona. We spent two nights in a hotel in Vermont, 8 days in hotels on the road on the motorcycle, one last night in a hotel in Prescott, AZ and then the last 10 days in our house with only a mattress and a stability ball chair. Today our open, minimalist house is packed high with boxes that seem to multiply like the rabbits that run around our yard. As fast as I empty out one box of dishes and glasses, another appears full of pots and pans.

In just a few hours we've gone from eating cereal out of paper bowls and using a plastic spoon while sitting on the floor to enjoying a grilled steak, baked potato, and fresh fruit sitting outside on the deck in real chairs, at an actual table, using dishes and silverware that need to be washed. Instead of rotating one pair of shorts and a pair of running shorts, I have piles of clothing in my closet. Every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen is full, my office desk is set up and books are on the shelves, and we now have full-size bottles of shampoo and toothpaste instead of the travel size.

Three weeks with basically no furniture and only two changes of clothing brings a refreshing perspective:  do we really need a bunch of stuff? I was thrilled that my grandmother's fragile and much glued-together china tea cups arrived unharmed. We set up photos of family on the shelves in the living room, and as I unpacked my boxes of letters, cards and drawings from the boys that I've collected over the years, I paused to read one or two.

Our empty house felt like home because we were living in it together. Now our house overflowing with boxes feels even more like home because of the famliar and cherished items that surround us.

Tomorrow is our 32nd wedding anniversary. We started married life in a small, furnished apartment in Augsburg, Germany and we're entering our 33rd year of marriage in sunny and friendly Prescott, AZ. May the adventures keep coming!

Things I never thought I'd do

We moved across the country to live in a completely different place, meet new people, and try out different experiences. I never expected that we would be part of a country club.

It's not really a country club, although there is a Hale Irwin private golf course and tennis courts, and a wildly popular game called pickleball that seems to be a cross between tennis and ping-pong, or as one of our neighbors calls it:  tennnis for old farts with injuries. There's also a beautiful club house, complete with a dining room. Next door is an equally beautiful health club with both indoor and outdoor pools, and locker rooms with higher quality furnishings than our home bathroom.

Our new home is located in Prescott Lakes, a planned subdivision with a home owners association (HOA) that takes care of the common areas. Our monthly HOA dues include membership to the club, and since we would otherwise join a local health club, we work out at the Prescott Lakes club on a regular basis.

Last night the club hosted a get-together for residents in our corner of Prescott Lakes, an area called the Summit. I've never been to a country club for dinner or a get-together, and I didn't know what to expect. What we found were very friendly people who welcomed us to Prescott, told us about local activities, and invited us to dinner, a hike, or to stop over one evening. Everyone in the Summit moved here from someplace else within the past 10 years. There really aren't any 'locals' in this type of neighborhood, although we did meet a couple of people who were born and raised in Phoenix.

We've never considered ourselves social people, rarely inviting friends over or going to their home. We were always busy with work or with the kids and evenings and weekends we looked forward either to family time or some quiet down-time. Now our lives are different. In the past 10 days since we've lived here, we went to a neighbor's home for wine and appetizers, attended the neighborhood party at the club, went to another neighbor's home after the party, and are starting to plan inviting people to our house - once we have furniture in place.

I may even learn to play pickleball.

How running helps me feel a part of my community

I love to run, always outside and preferably not on concrete sidewalks.

 

When we met with the Prescott Lakes membership coordinator, she asked about our hobbies. I told her I like to run, and when she pressed me for more hobbies I said I really like to run. Running is more than a hobby; it's how I feel connected with place, a stress-reliever, and a way to meet people and establish friendships. It also allows me to eat pretty much whatever and however much I want.

I brought my running clothes and shoes on our motorcycle trip as we moved from Vermont to Arizona, and ran almost every afternoon after we finished the day's miles. Running in a strange town allows me to get out of the hotel and off the main highway into the quiet side streets, and often I discover a restaurant or breakfast spot along the way.

I started out running in Prescott from our house on the sidewalks. Sidewalks aren't my favorite surface because they make my legs hurt, but I like towns with sidewalks and the opportunity to move around the community safely. Once I knew more about the local traffic patterns, I felt comfortable running in the road on some of the side streets. Then I discovered dirt trails around our subdivision, and I've been exploring the trails and adding them to my morning run. My happiness level increases each time I get off the sidewalk, turn down a different street, run through a new neighborhood.

This morning ran on trails/road to the health club, lifted weights, then ran back home using a different combination of trail and road. I purposefully took the trail to the highest point, where there are petroglyphs depicting the sun. I stopped for a moment at the top, looked around at the unbelievable scenery, slowed my rapidly beating heart (the combination of hills and mile-high elevation takes some getting used to), and trotted off downhill toward home.

Home. The more I run around our community, the more Prescott really does feel like home.

Waiting for furniture is like the last days of pregnancy

As I was sitting in our empty living room - empty except for the two $15.00 hard plastic outdoor chairs we purchased yesterday at Home Depot - a thought came to me. The last 10 days of living in our empty house, waiting for our furniture and household goods to be delivered, is a lot like the last few days of being pregnant.

We call the moving company to find out an estimated day that our stuff would be loaded on a moving van. That's a lot like the weekly doctor's appointment, where I hopefully asked when the baby might be born. At this point, there's no definite answer except for:  soon.

We putter around the house, taking care of some repairs:  retouching paint, installing a new outdoor faucet, changing a light bulb. That's a lot like putting up the crib and getting out the baby blankets. They aren't essential items, but they keep us busy.

We watch movies on TV that we've seen several times before. We don't feel like going out and are simply looking for something mindlessly entertaining to occupy our time. I think we watched some of those same movies waiting for labor pains to finally begin.

Friends email:  any news yet on the furniture? Neighbors act surprised that we've been here 10 days without furniture. I had those same types of questions in the last days of pregnancy:  what, you're still pregnant?

Finally, the moving company calls and tells us the delivery date. That's a lot like going into labor:  I know this baby is really going to be born!

We've gotten used to living in a house with only a mattress and now 2 chairs, using plastic silverware and paperplates, and standing up to eat our meals. We're in a holding pattern, filling our days with simple tasks and going to bed early.

Guess what? The furniture is being delivered on Wednesday!

Centennial Trail Hike

Arizona became a state in 1912, and in 2012 a new trail was built to honor the state's centennial. The 2-mile Centennial Trail has a parking area in the middle, and this morning we hiked the western portion toward the petryglyhs. The trail winds up and down through giant granite boulders and crosses several sandy, dry creek beds. The rocky terrain reminds us of hiking in Vermont and New Hampshire, until we spot cactus growing by the side of the trail.

We stopped a few times to catch our breath as we climbed up the steep parts of the trail, and also to look out over Prescott to Granite Mountain.

 At the end of the trail we were rewarded with several petroglyphs on the huge granite boulders.

We'll be back to hike the eastern section of the trail. Prescott boasts so many trails, we have lots of hiking opportunities close to home.