In Summary (a post about love, travel, food and the evolution of the mind)

It's been a while since I've given you a nice, long, descriptive and rambling post. I'm 100% sure you've been feeling neglected. Therefore, I give you a bit  huge piece of my mind.

Last spring, I made an extremely difficult decision to walk away from what I was so sure was the love of a lifetime. I gave up a happy day-to-day life and an amazing group of friends due to a realization that we may not have been on the same paths regarding our futures. The last year has been tumultuous to say the least. I learned a lot about myself, my actions, my treatment of others and the subsequent effects of that treatment. Mostly, though, I became reacquainted with myself. I moved back into my own place, got used to making dinner for just one, went out when I wanted to and enjoyed hibernating when I didn't...and above all, I fed my travel bug. I fed that little sucker until it almost blew up.

What amazed me was how different each of my trips were, from my reasons for going to my expectations of each trip to what I ended up bringing home with me in my heart. Just a few days after the breakup, I went to Florida by myself. I had planned the trip about a month prior, having been feeling the itch to fly somewhere, anywhere, for quite a long time. I didn't know at the time that I'd be leaving in the midst of a new heartache, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful for a few days to escape from the immediate pain. To digest the situation, take some deep breaths, and to make sure I was doing the right thing and thinking everything through. I spent a lot of time sitting and staring into space on that trip, and after a few short days I was ready to go back and face reality. 

Once I returned, it was time to find a new place to live. I was torn about what to take with me and what to leave; not wanting to leave him with a house full of memories of me, but more so not wanting to leave him with an empty house. I chose to start fresh with my new place. I figured I was the one who left, therefore I should be the one to have to buy all new things. 

A couple of months after living on my own, I was somehow still craving solitude. Just in time, some friends of mine notified me that they were doing a charity bike ride and one of the ways you could contribute was to rent out their house in a remote area in Maine. It seemed like fate at the time. I booked a whole week in August, assuming I'd have friends coming in and out throughout the week. As it turned out, no one was able to come due to scheduling conflicts and the fact that the cabin was over 4 hours away. Ok, then. I set out for the cabin late at night, driving along dark, winding roads until about 2 in the morning when I arrived. I was unsure of my surroundings and filled with fear and anxiety. That first night was the worst. I had to get into the house, bring all of my things in, check out my surroundings and somehow find a way to get to sleep. In the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, this was no easy task. I remember my chest being so tight and just wishing more than anything that I could call someone to make me laugh, but it was so late. So I just dealt with it. That time spent in Maine was one of the most incredible weeks of my life, full of challenges and defining moments. I went to dinner alone, went hiking alone, went for runs, sat on the deck, read books and wrote pages upon pages in my journal. I faced the breakup and started to actually consider a future without him. Buckets of tears were shed. But then deep breaths were taken, my shoulders were pushed back, and my chin was urged to raise itself up high. I came home feeling stronger, more adept at handling negative situations, and at peace with myself.

Taken on a long, solo drive

 It wasn't all smooth sailing from there, and I'm going to leave it at that because I feel the details of the breakup are too private and personal to be shared. In October, I set off for my annual trek up north to Canada with my mom to see our extended family. As always, it was so comforting to be 'home', and to be surrounded with the faces and laughter and hugging arms that have contributed to greatly to my whole sense of being. I was able to take some solo runs down long dirt roads lined with the beautiful vibrant colors of fall, and my soul was replenished and refueled.

 The fall and holiday season were, as I'm sure you'd expect, difficult. I didn't do any traveling at that time, and chose instead to stay home and lick my wounds. It wasn't awesome, but it was necessary.

Sometime in early January, I was having dinner with my friend Mego who happened to note that she was considering a "long weekend" to Iceland. My first response was, 'when do we leave? I'm in.' A week or two of planning later, and we firmed up our plans. Somewhere along the way we convinced our friend Tobey that she should also join us. And so it was. Although Iceland had the majestic beauty one would expect to be the perfect backdrop for deep thoughts and personal revelations, that trip was just pure GO. We had lists of what we wanted to do and when we wanted to do it, and between making sure we experienced everything along with adapting to such a foreign lifestyle, my thoughts were mostly in the moment. Not a bad thing.

The beautiful hills of Iceland

 The day after I returned from Iceland, I was hanging out with my friend Mollie, who I met years ago through my college roommate and don't get to see very often (but love it when I do). I happened to mention to her that I was craving a beach vacation and some true relaxation time, and she turned to me with a gleam in her eye and said, "Funny you should mention that..." As it turned out, her cousin and friend from Ireland were traveling to Cancun in early May and wanted Mollie to join. I was a bit hesitant at first...I have been feeling like absolute crap about my self and my body, and the thought of hanging out with three beautiful (thin) girls on a beach, in a bathing suit, was almost a deal breaker. However, I didn't want to miss out on a beautiful (and fun) vacation.


In the end, I decided that Cancun was being presented to me for a reason, and I should just go for it. However, in between Iceland and Cancun was to be yet another adventure, this time to Omaha, Nebraska. (Yes, really). Tobey and Mego, along with our other friend Donna, decided to make a trek out to the Midwest to visit Tobey's parents, to "help them" with their large inventory of wine in their newly built wine cellar. A $300 flight and a free place to stay where the owner of the home just so happened to go to culinary school? Psshhhh, that was a no-brainer. I was there for only 2 days, but I was treated to the most amazing of culinary delights. French toast casserole, fancy dinners, fine meats and cheeses, and wine. So much wine.

Wine tasting at the house...no messing around in Omaha!

Just a week later, I was boarding a plane to Cancun. THIS was the trip I had planned to be relaxing, reflective and refreshing. It was all of those, but it was also a bit of a boozefest with lots of laughter and the opportunity to meet tons of cool people. The Irish lasses were an absolute delight, and there were whole crews of people there from other cities that all kind of morphed into one giant group. It made for a hell of a fun week. Kind of an older, not-slutty version of Spring Break. Once the initial 'holy hell I'm in a bathing suit already' shock wore off and I got a little color on The Bod, I felt much better about myself and was able to relax.

The view from our room

 And now? I have both feet firmly back on the ground in Massachusetts. I feel satiated, and my traveling soul is at rest...at least for now. Back to mornings at the gym and delicious lunches like this!

Tofu and raw veggies...SO much better than cheese fries and a margarita...(wistful sigh)