The Honeymooners

View of beach

While visiting Vis, one of the Dalmatian islands, we decided to check out a more remote beach on the island. At most, there were a dozen people there, and we ended up sitting next to two families from the States. After they randomly offered for us to use their snorkel gear (which we did- it was awesome!), I mentioned that we were on our belated honeymoon. One of the woman said, "When my husband and I were on our honeymoon, we decided it wasn't over until we said it's over. That was 29 years ago. We're still on our honeymoon." When we ran into her with her husband later that night, he shared it yet again. Hearing their advice for a second time, I realized this was clearly something they had lived by for the past 29 years. Regardless of where they are - the incredible Dalmatian islands or the kitchen of your own house - they are still on their honeymoon. 

Even after more than two weeks of a time out from the "real world," flying over the Atlantic Ocean now, I can't help but be a little bummed that our trip is coming to a close. Anticipating this moment, I've thought a lot about that couple on the beach and their advice. Sure, we will return home this weekend and while I won't even go back to work immediately, there will be chores to do, bills to pay, inevitable must-do's. I can't stop that from happening, but that wasn't that point of the motto of this couple. Yes, there are daily obligations we must attend to that sometimes cloud the vision of the bigger picture, but there are also things, and more importantly, people, who make our lives what they are.

I've spent a lot of time considering this motto, or really, attitude, over the past week, and naturally connected it to running. Lately, I've run pretty routine runs and have built them into these larger-than-necessary things. Because I want to stick to my training plan and hit certain targets, I have been trying to balance being away with my desire to stay on track to train for the half. I can't always change the facts of these runs and how they turn out, and I don't even need to really, because I can control how I approach them, and choose what set of glasses I view them through. The same run means two different things depending on how I view it. 

Celebrating our first anniversary!

Similar to the word vacation, the word honeymoon carries a certain connotation. Reflecting on it this past week, I realize that so much of it is mental. I know it's easier for me to brush aside the little things when I'm away, but why? Why can't this be an attitude I at least strive to maintain regardless of where I am? 

As the couple on the beach suggested, we don't need to pack away our honeymoon mentality when we return home. My hope is that as Ryan and I unpack our suitcases, we will forgo the routine of putting away the metaphorical (sun)glasses with which we have viewed the past 2+ weeks, and really, this first year of marriage. If honeymoons are mental, then we can, and I hope we will, continue this trip throughout our entire marriage, and rival this couple for the world's longest honeymoon. 

Written last month, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Already

Top of the Schönbrunn Castle in Vienna

This post was written last month, while in Europe.

We arrived into Zagreb, Croatia's capital city, late last night. We're staying in an apartment in the center of what seems like a fairly small, but bustling, city. When we were first looking for places to stay, I was quickly won over by this one's balcony, hanging seven floors above the city- I'm a sucker for a good balcony. I love the easy access to fresh air, but I also love the birds' eye view it gives us. In Prague, we visited the Prague Castle which, high up on a hill, is a step back from the city, and yesterday, when we made a quick visit to Schönbrunn on a stopover in Vienna, again we were able to see the whole city from afar. On this balcony though, I can look out and see far...but I also get to look down and see the details- professionals rushing to work, people biking through the streets, vendors setting up at the market. Like a fly on the wall, I get a peak into life in this new place from the perfect distance.

View from our balcony in Zagreb

While we were in Prague over the weekend, we walked over to the farmers' market near our friends' apartment. It was a beautiful day, without the humidity that makes spending time outside back home something to avoid. Strolling through the stalls, I thought how if I lived so close to this, I would spend much of my Saturday mornings there. But just as quickly as I thought it, I realize that across the world, I do live near a farmers' market. It's not foreign and sure, they don't serve beer, but I have access to it twice a week, a five minute walk from my apartment...and I rarely go. Away from home, it's easy to forget the mundane tasks that fill up much of my free time- laundry, paying bills, completing endless to-do lists. It's easy to get caught in a web of what if's. 

Just before we left Ann Arbor, I was running through the Arboretum near our apartment, and saw a poster on the notice board at the entrance that said "If you're too busy to run today, then you're too busy." For me, this is just another reminder

of something I have spent much time thinking about in the last few years. On vacation, it's easy to stand back from my every-day life and see all the potential that lives in a place. I get to watch people doing what they enjoy, outside of work and the mundane tasks they must complete within their homes. For me, of course, I get to enjoy that, with no restrictions on what I have to do, nothing being dictated. I get to imagine a life where time is a gift, rather than a restriction. But there has to be a middle ground, I place where I can continue to "live like I'm on vacation,"even after I have returned home. 

Maybe it's like wearing metaphorical bifocals. I'm not going to ever be in a financial position where I can just travel and peek into others' worlds, and I don't even want that. I like being connected and settled.  Instead, I seek the feeling of wonder, perspective, appreciation. I don't want to be so busy that I don't have time to discover the new things, or enjoy my favorite things. I know you can't make more time, but you can certainly find it, and I don't need to travel around the globe to find time to pause and just be. 

Dobrý den Praha!

With our amazing hosts!

And we're off! Last week, we left for our 2+ week European adventure/belated honeymoon. To start off our trip, we stayed with my dear friend from college, Amy, and her boyfriend, Pete, who both relocated to Prague for work back in January. It's been several years since I've been to Europe, and over 10 since traveling to a country that doesn't natively speak English. I don't think I realized until recently how different visiting Italy now would be from doing so when I was in high school. Living in the US, everything feels, and really is, much newer and modern, in terms of the landscape of a city. Ten years ago, I felt a disconnect to things that were so unfamiliar. Now, I'm finally at a point where I can appreciate it. 

Walking through Prague, it's impossible to not acknowledge, and admire, the drastic differences between what's before me and what I see in my everyday life - the cobblestone, the randomness of narrow and windy streets, the newness of something unfamiliar. Traveling is exciting, but, as a co-worker recently pointed out, for her, and me as well, it can push you to the point of almost uncomfortable at times. Even for the most organized person, exploring a new place brings about a level of uncertainty. Especially for those of us who like to be in control, it can be stressful, to the point where it's possible to even lose sight of the reason people visit new cities in the first place. 

The Dancing Man &
The Dancing House

Recently, both in traveling and in my everyday life, I have found that acknowledging that potential for mild chaos and confusion can be enough to restore my sense of comfort. As Jillian Michaels encourages in a yoga DVD of hers (and thus, perhaps in real life as well), "Get comfortable being uncomfortable." Life throws us curveballs, and oftentimes, we throw them at ourselves. Whether we see it coming or not, these things - traveling, changes, relationships - challenge and push us in different ways.

I feel fortunate to have been able to see where our friends in Prague are living, a window into this new life they've created for themselves. From the other side of the ocean, I can easily forget what a shift this has been, and continues to be, for them. Living alongside them for a few days, I can better appreciate, and admire, the courage it has taken to stray from the known to the unknown. I'm honestly not sure I could ever do what they've done, uprooting their lives and moving to an unfamiliar place, to the extent to which they have.

Glowing in front of the Vltava River

In an effort to maintain some kind of base for the half-marathon, we set out on Sunday morning to get in a few miles. Running, particularly on vacation, has become a priority beyond how it makes me feel. I've written about it before, but, even if only briefly, I enjoy seeing a new place that way. Running along the Vltava River, I couldn't help but feel a bit bothered that I wasn't able to bang out four quick miles with ease. Sometimes it's easy to lose sight of a bigger picture- despite four jam-packed days of exploring the city, stuffing our faces, and catching up with Amy and Pete, we still fit it in, and that's something I have to be proud of.

And I guess that's what's most important. It's easy, and even natural, to size ourselves up against others, or even another version of our own self, overlooking what we are doing because our focus is on we think we should be doing. I have a lot of friends traveling this summer, and I often listen enviously as they rattle off the list of all the places they're going. Instinctively, I question if we should have planned to do more, packed more in to our time abroad. It's easy to get swept up in others' dreams and plans, but ultimately, I have to be true to myself and more than anything or anyone else, I need to know myself. We are doing a ton in our two weeks in Europe, but that's not even what matters. What's most important is that it's a trip that matches us, that fits us and what we want out of it. And it really is.

There will always be people who do more than me, and likewise, people who do less. I write a lot about reflecting on changes I've made and comparing me to myself, and I guess I started this post, nearly two weeks ago now, thinking that's what I was doing here yet again. I don't want to compare myself to others, but I'm realizing that when I notice these differences, whether it's with regard to traveling, running, or otherwise, they can push me towards feelings of appreciation, instead of inadequacy. What's "uncomfortable" for me is different than what it is for anyone else, but the commonality is that we're each striving, I hope, to be our best, happiest, fullest versions of ourselves. Our starting lines are not the same, so how can our finish lines be?