In the last ten years I have lived in fifteen different places (please excuse me if I have already mentioned that in a previous blog-it blows my mind)! Out of all of the places I have lived, Denver is the place that feels the most like home. The day I moved back here I felt the roots starting to grow out of my feet and into the earth. Once Michael comes home, I know those roots will just go deeper and deeper into the ground until our roots are completely tangled in the Colorado soil.
Today I ran the six-mile path from my house to Washington Park and home. During my run I realized how familiar the streets, houses, paths, geese, sunshine and snow-capped mountains are becoming to me. It’s a feeling that I have longed to recreate for the past two and a half years since I have been gone from Denver. It’s the feeling of knowing you are home. Today’s run is the same run I will be doing in ten months and that’s one of the most beautiful things I could ask for. Monotony can be boring to some, but at this moment in my life, I have never craved anything more.