Fully Acclimated

Moving to Denver took some adjustment time. For the first week or so, it felt like was carrying around a 50lb. backpack all the time and was continually out of breath. (That did NOT help as we climbed our first 14er only 7 days after arriving at an altitude 10,000 feet above my usual 500 ft.) Even something as simple as climbing up the stairs caused me to pause to catch my breath. I mean, I know I hadn’t been running as regularly as I used to, but still, I wasn’t THAT out of shape, right? Back in Denver, life at 5,280 ft. was not the only adjustment I had to make. The air was much dryer than the notoriously humid Iowan Summers I had just come from. My lips were always chapped, my hands were in constant need of lotion and my nose was an entirely different issue. On the upside, my towels dried quickly, my curly hair stayed under 3 feet wide and I could hang my clothes up to dry in the morning and put them away that night.

Besides just a change in physical surroundings, I made some pretty drastic habitat changes as well. I went from living in a small, rural Iowa town in an apartment by myself to a BIG, urban city in Colorado with 4 housemates. I had to learn to take the bus instead of drive, grocery shop and cook for five instead of one and learn how to share my toys all over again. At work, I had to learn a new address and phone number, redefine what I meant when I said “we” and adapt into a whole new work culture. There were times amidst all of this that I never thought I’d adjust.

Fast forward two months to my first trip back to Iowa since moving west. Brad and I went to his parents house for Thanksgiving. (Please note that they live on the west side of Iowa which is not the same as “my Iowa” on the east side. It was great to be in Iowa, but it wasn’t “my Iowa”.) Being back in a place that used to be familiar highlighted how much I really had acclimated to Denver. I noticed it first in the little things (my towel was still wet in the evening after showering that morning and my hair took forever to dry!), but also in some of the bigger things. It seemed weird not to have my four housemates around and I hesitated to take Hawkeye on a walk outside in the dark. It was so bizarre on Thanksgiving morning at the Turkey Trot that everyone knew everyone else. Brad ran into old high school classmates and it seemed like Brad’s mom had a connection to everyone. I was so excited to see Iowa Hawkeye fans and black and gold everywhere, but then I remembered that it wasn’t abnormal for Iowans to cheer for Iowa.

It was so bizarre for me to notice the little things that were once a normal part of my life. And it wasn’t even that long ago that these things were normal to me! I still don’t feel like a Denveran, (Denverite? Denverese?) and I probably won’t until I get my pair of long, brown boots that every woman in Denver seems to own. But I’m not a small town girl anymore either. I feel a bit like a chameleon that is half one color and half the other but doesn’t blend in with anything anymore.

It is for exactly those reasons that I love to travel. No matter how much or how little you pack in your suitcase, and no matter how far and wide you roam, you will always bring with you the very core of who you are. The “extras” will get left behind in the airport security line or forgotten with your toothbrush at the hotel. But at some point, when everything else has changed, you will find the very core of who you are has still traveled with you. I love discovering new cultures, tastes, experiences and memories but the discoveries that I value the most have been at my very core the whole time.