Funny How That Works

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During last winter’s post-storm run through Los Penasquitos Canyon, I remember taking a side trail to grab some water from an upland park fountain. Glancing up the steep hillside, I saw all these really nice red-tiled houses along leafy avenues and thought, “Nice neighborhood.”

The place never again entered my thoughts – until last week.

That’s when we found a lovely two-story home that by the end of this month becomes our new residence, in the very spot I eyed earlier from the canyon corner. We’d planned to move anyway, but not quite so soon. It’s forcing everyone to make some adjustments, me included. I’d planned to sign up for the summer’s San Diego Track Club half marathon group to train for a PR at the America’s Finest City race in August. Now I’m not sure I can swing so many Saturdays elsewhere, or Wednesday evening fun runs on the track club race calendar. I’m also having wrist surgery on Tuesday and then flying to New England for a five-day vacation I desperately need (and richly deserve!). The surgery, and the company of three longtime girlfriends, will certainly influence next Friday night’s 10k outcome along Niantic Bay, probably not for the better.

I know it’s really, really stressful, but I like moving. I’ve done it at least every five years since I was born. I like becoming reacquainted with my possessions, weighing their continued worth and making a new place for them in our new quarters, or someone else’s. (Goodwill and the DAV are gonna love us.) I especially like exploring my new surroundings on foot, preferably at a 9-minute or better pace before most people even know it’s morning. Every time we’ve driven to the new place, we’ve passed lots of runners on the trails, streets and sidewalks. That’s a good sign I’ll have plenty of company when I finally find my way again.

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