When I think of Arizona, I think of dry, relentless heat on red land adorned with cacti, shrubs, and bright orange, desert flowers. What I never imagine is rain pouring onto the parched land from a dreary gray sky.
Of all the times to visit Arizona, somehow my family and I chose the few days that monsoon season decided to hit. Our original plans for the day were pushed into the evening by the dark clouds that had taken over the sky.
One of the best things to do on rainy days is play games, and that’s exactly what we did. Now, again, this was not quite what I expected. When I think of games, I think of a deck of cards or a board game. However, my cousins, who are younger and more aware of the current trends, introduced the virtual reality system to me and my family. With the headset on, the room we were in disappeared and each of us were taken to a different world where we faced blood-thirsty zombies, frightening falls, and terrifying roller coasters. It was an immersive experience that took video games to a whole new level. My cousins, of course, were pros at the games; nothing shook them. Kathleen gleefully announced to the room every time she came into contact with a new, gruesome obstacle, and Thomas destroyed every level of each game with ease. My mother, however, shook with fear and stood, paralyzed, in the center of the room until we found a more relaxed simulation for her to experience.
Jake and Steve playing cornhole during a brief lull from the rain.
Once we tired of this game, we ate some lunch and broke out the cards and poker chips to play Screw Your Neighbor, a game my brother, Jake, introduced to us. By now, it was late into the afternoon and the rain had mostly subsided, so we decided to return to our original plans for the day and drive to Topgolf.
Let me start this by saying that the most golf I have ever played is a few rounds of putt-putt, and I was hopeless even at that game. In fact, running is just about the only sport I have any skill at; everything else requires a level of coordination that I, unfortunately, have not been gifted with. Luckily, I was in good company – my brother had only been to a driving range once, my father had not played in 20 years, and it had been even longer since my mom had played her first and only round of golf.
Topgolf reminded me a bit of a bowling alley. Everyone took turns hitting their ball into the turf where brightly colored, large holes caved into the ground. The farther away the hole was, the more points the player earned. The scores were recorded automatically by the computer at our table. I’m still not sure how the computer kept track of where our balls went when there were dozens being hit by guests every minute, all into the same turf, but the computer was almost always accurate in recording our scores.
It was a lot of fun. My uncle, Steve, is an experienced golfer, so he was able to give all of us novices some tips. At the beginning, I felt pretty hopeless about my skills – it was more than obvious that I had never played before. But after observing everyone else’s form, I began to get the hang of it and actually got a few decent strokes in. I am by no means a good golfer; I’m not event a decent golfer. But I hit the ball into the hole, and that was enough for me.
As the sky darkened, the holes in the turf were illuminated with lights that danced along to the music playing overhead. Our allotted game time came to an end, so we extended it by another half an hour, and then later, another half an hour on top of that. By the time we were finished playing, two hours had flown by without us even realizing. We were too engrossed in the gratification of when we finally hit the ball well, and the enjoyment of spending time with good company.
My relatives from Arizona – from left to right: Samuel, Kathleen, Thomas, Steve, and Isabella
The party did not end there. Well into the night, my family continued to revel in each other’s company. I was the first to retire to bed, still exhausted from the previous day’s travels.
One thing I loved about today is that none of it went according to plan, and that’s what made it so great. None of us could have known when planning this trip months ago that we would fly right into monsoon season; it was so surprising it was trending on my Twitter today. However, the rain giving life to the desert outside gave us a chance to spend time with one another without the distraction of tourist attractions. While I am eager to get out exploring Tucson, I was thankful for the day to re-explore the relationships that I haven’t had the chance to reconnect with in eight years. And when the rain finally did let up and we were able to go out, we were delighted to find that Topgolf, lit up by lights, was even more enjoyable over nighttime drinks and dinner.
Embrace the surprises and changes in life. And no matter what, remember that the best moments are made, not because of what you are doing, but because of the people you are with.
The first day of my vacation started with waking to the sound of pounding feet on a treadmill at 3a.m. I grudgingly slid out of my bed and exited my bedroom to see my dad completing his morning run before our long day ahead. We had to leave for our flight by 6:30. I yawned and headed upstairs to get ready. This day was getting an even earlier start than I had expected, but the excitement of what was ahead kept me from returning to my bed.
I got ready and went outside while the world was still dark for my own run. With a light belt around my waist and the flashlight on my phone leading the way, I jogged up and down my driveway, waking my tired muscles for the long trip ahead. The sky was just beginning to lighten as I headed back inside to shower.
My family and I packed our suitcases into the car and then headed to BWI airport. Jess, my brother’s girlfriend, dropped us off with a cheerful farewell, and then we headed to baggage claim.
Walking into the airport was like walking onto the set of an apocalyptic movie. Instead of milling with people, the lines were short with people spacing themselves out at least six feet apart. Everyone was wearing a mask. It was very different from my memories of this same airport from a year ago when I had flown to San Francisco for 4K for Cancer.
We checked our bags in record time, which meant that all the extra time we had allotted ourselves by arriving to the airport early was now just an extra two hours to kill before our plane departed. My family got pretzels from Auntie Anne’s while I bought a latte from Starbucks and a banana from Pinkberry Yogurt. I walked around the airport to stretch my legs while I still could, sipping my latte and talking to Joseph on the phone. I am missing my favorite travel buddy and photographer on this trip, who also happens to be my fiancé.
We boarded our plane at 10:30a.m., and soon we were soaring high in the sky. My family and I nodded off, already exhausted by our day. By this point, I had already been awake for eight hours, but our travels had only just begun.
Four hours later, we arrived in Denver for our layover. My mother, while comparing prices, had forgotten to check what our layover would be, which meant we accidentally got stuck with a four hour wait between flights. We ate lunch, and then Mom and I walked around the airport, window shopping. The Denver airport is the most entertaining airport I have ever been in. There were tons of shops to walk into, including a book store that caught my attention for a while. In the center of the airport is a large display of an airplane flying over platforms that have been decorated to look like ruins. The airport is filled with art exhibits to admire and enjoy, which made our walk much more entertaining than expected.
Our flight was scheduled to begin boarding at 4:35p.m. We seated ourselves at the gate at 4:00 to make sure we would have enough time. However, 4:35 came and went without any announcements. At 4:45, the gate attendant announced that they were beginning pre-boarding for the flight to Houston. My mother and I looked up at each other at the same time, our eyebrows knit in confusion. My mother stood and walked away to talk to an employee, and then she rushed back to us.
“We’re at the wrong gate,” she said. “Come on!” We gathered our belongings quickly and ran across the entire length of the airport. The gate where we were supposed to be (a different gate than what had been listed on our boarding passes) was completely empty. We rushed up to the gate attendant, who announced that the flight was fully boarded.
“I’m guessing you are the Didra family,” he said, making a few clicks on his computer. We confirmed this, and then, to our relief, he re-opened the gate for us. We rushed onto the plane, and less than two minutes later, we were once again lifting off into the sky above.
After nearly a four hour layover, we still almost missed our flight.
I spent the flight reading my book, Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness by Susannah Cahalan. It is a memoir that tells the story of a journalist from New York City who lost a month of her life due to some form of disease that took over her mind. It was so captivating that, before I knew it, we were landing in Tucson, Arizona.
The airport was desolate when we arrived. All of the shops were closed and apart from our fellow passengers, the terminals were empty. We picked up our luggage in record time and rented a car to drive to where my uncle, Steve, and his children, Isabella, Kathleen, Sam, and Thomas live. As soon as we started driving, we passed a cactus that towered far above me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. It was as if the landscape wanted to assure me that we were, in fact, now in the desert.
We arrived to a beautiful spread of food and a warm home. I have not seen my family in Arizona for over eight years. The kids I played with when I was a freshman in high school are now nearly grown.
We all sat around the dinner table, catching up, playing games, and enjoying one another’s company. I wanted to stay up later, but after being awake for 22 hours and flying over 2,000 miles, I was falling asleep sitting in my chair.
Luckily, I have a week here to reunite, reconnect and reminisce. Tonight, it is time for some much-needed rest.
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One of the most important things to have on a long flight is a smartly packed carry-on bag.
While doing some online searching, I was surprised to see that there was very little information about things to pack in a carry-on bag for people with different needs. As someone who has dealt with chronic illness for over the last decade, I know that symptoms can, and often do, flare up during travel. Luckily, as an experienced traveler, I have some insight on what someone with chronic illness may need on a long flight.
To be clear, most of the specialty items that I packed were for fibromyalgia and irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), but anyone who suffers from any type of gastrointestinal upset or chronic pain could find benefit from these products.
So, here is what I have in my carry-on bag for my upcoming trip to Arizona (a six hour flight with a four hour layover in Denver), including the usual, mundane items everyone has, and a couple of extra special items that I think you may find helpful for your next trip.
1. Book
For a long flight, it’s important to have something to pass the time. I personally enjoy catching up on my reading while flying. Currently, I am reading Brain On Fire: My Month Of Madness by Susannah Cahalan. I haven’t finished it yet, so I can’t give you a formal review, but thus far, it has been truly captivating and difficult to put down. I am very much looking forward to finishing this book during my trip.
2. Magnesium Plus Stick
This balm is a lifesaver. The Magnesium Plus Stick from Jordan Essentials is a lotion bar enhanced with magnesium, peppermint, basil, lavender, and frankincense. It provides fantastic relief for headaches, muscle aches, and other inflammation associated with chronic pain. After rubbing it on, the effects are almost instantaneous. I never go on a trip without it.
3. Extra supplements/medications
Most of my supplements/medications are packed away in my luggage, but there are a few I like to have on-hand just in case of some pain or stomach upset, or on the off-chance that the airline loses my luggage. I have extra doses of all of my essential pills in my carry-on, as well as a few extras, just in case.
For general health and wellness, I use an adult multivitamin from Equate. As a nutrition coach, I recommend everyone take a multivitamin daily to make sure they are getting in an adequate micronutrient intake.
I manage my IBS with the supplement form of Magnesium Citrate from NOW supplements, which helps regulate the typical wave pattern of constipation and diarrhea for this disease.
Insomnia is a very common side-effect of fibromyalgia. When your body is tense, it’s difficult to relax enough to fall asleep. To help with this, instead of taking prescription sleeping pills, I use a Melatonin supplement from Nature Made, the only supplement company regulated in the United States (for all other supplements, I make sure they are from reputable companies approved by foreign governments, like Canada, that regulate supplements; except for Nature Made, the FDA does not regulate any supplement companies in the U.S.).
When traveling, it can be difficult to get in enough vegetables, which are incredibly important for general health, gastrointestinal function, and inflammatory balance in the body. Just in case I am not able to eat my veggies, I packed my Amazing Grass Green Superfood Capsules, which offer a full serving of vegetables along with probiotics, digestive enzymes, and spirulina.
I never know when IBS symptoms are going to flare up, especially when traveling, so I always pack some Gas X Extra-Strength Soft Gels in case I need to calm my finicky intestines. On this note, I also packed TUMS, just in case my stomach has any trouble.
The last “just-in-case” medication I packed is Aleve. I always try to relieve my pain symptoms as naturally as possible, but sometimes, when the body aches won’t go away, an anti-inflammatory pill is a good solution. Aleve is my favorite because it won’t irritate my stomach the way ibuprofen will, and it provides pain relief for 12 hours.
4. Electrolyte powder and an empty, reusable water bottle
When you’re traveling, it can be difficult to drink enough water. No one wants to be constantly running to (or trying to find) a bathroom. To get the most out of the water I am drinking, I bring Propel electrolyte powders. They help give my body the hydration it needs, and they are low-FODMAP, so they aren’t going to upset my IBS.
You can’t get through TSA with a bottle of water. However, once you are through, you can fill up an environmentally-friendly, reusable water bottle. I like the Contigo brand of water bottles – the tops lock to reduce spills, they hold a lot of water, and they aren’t too expensive.
5. Protein bars
Everyone gets hungry when they are flying high in the sky. I personally like to pack protein bars to help me feel satiated for a long period of time. Simply Protein peanut butter cookies are not only delicious, but they are made with all-natural ingredients (unlike most protein bars, which are packed full of chemicals and/or sugar).
6. Neck pillow and eye mask
To rest my aching neck, or to catch a couple minutes of sleep, I like the ZOYLEE twist memory foam travel pillow. It can be formed to different shapes, so no matter how you are sitting, you can find a comfortable place to rest your head.
To block out the light, I use the Alaska Bear natural silk sleep mask. It’s comfortable, stays pretty cool, and protects my eyes from any light trying to break through.
7. Laptop
As a blogger, this is an essential on my trip. I absolutely love my MacBook Air. It has lasted longer than any other laptop I have ever owned, and it still works just as good as the day I bought it. It’s also sleek and lightweight, which makes it perfect for traveling.
High stress situations mean flare ups, both for fibromyalgia and IBS. To help curb this problem, and to keep my cool in general, I use the Jordan Essentials “peace” herbal blend roll-on. It’s a blend of grape seed, orange, ylang ylang, patchouli, clary, and frankincense oils. It is quite simply tranquility packaged in a bottle.
9. Headphones
Music and podcasts are a necessity on a long trip. I also use these in place of earplugs when I am trying to sleep. I love my JLab Audio JBuds Air Sport True wireless bluetooth earbuds. They have the longest battery life of any bluetooth headphones I have ever owned, and they are sweat resistant, which makes them perfect for running once I get to my destination.
10. Hand sanitizer
We are in the middle of a pandemic – enough said.
11. Peppermint tea
Ordering a cup of hot water, either on the plane or at a coffee shop, is a simple way to bring instant bliss when you have tea on hand. STASH peppermint tea is calming and soothing, not just for the mind, but also for the gastrointestinal tract.
12. Journal
I am a writer. I never go anywhere without my journal. I personally love this Busy Bee design from Lady Jayne Ltd. because I feel like it captures my personality perfectly. It makes me smile every time I look at it.
That’s it! I hope you have found this list helpful, whether you struggle with chronic illness or not, to help you create a carry-on bag that provides entertainment, peace of mind, and preparedness for any trip.
While we were making dinner, Joseph’s sister, Joanna, called to ask if we wanted to visit her and her husband, Dan, in Virginia. They moved to Leesburg nearly six months ago, and although they live only an hour and a half away, we had not yet had the chance to visit. Joseph is about to start graduate school, and I am about to leave for a trip, so we did not have much availability in our schedules. When Joseph told Joanna this, she proposed we visit the next day.
We agreed. After Joseph got off of the phone, I proposed that we turn this visit into a longer stay. We have made it our quest to visit all 50 states plus Washington, D.C., and this was an opportunity to cross Virginia off of our list.
It may sound spur of the moment, but after planning for a two-and-a-half week Colorado road trip in only a few days, this seemed almost simple.
So, we packed snacks we had left over from our last trip, stuffed our clothes into overnight bags, and planned for where we wanted to visit during our trip.
To officially say that we visited a state, there are a couple of things we have agreed we need to do. We want to walk a main street, eat (or drink) at a local restaurant, hike at a national park, and visit a tourist or scenic spot. Only after completing all of these tasks can we visit a Starbucks and purchase our souvenir: A mug from the “Been There” series.
For this trip, we knew we would cross off the main street and local eatery with Joanna and Dan. After some research, we decided to hike at Shenandoah National Park and then visit Luray Caverns. It was an extra two hours of driving away from home, but we knew it would be worth it.
On Wednesday, we arrived in Virginia during the hottest part of the afternoon. As soon as we stepped out of the car, I was reminded that the hot and muggy weather in Maryland does not even compare to the moist heat in Virginia.
Joanna and Dan were both still at work when we arrived. Luckily, Joanna had sent us some ideas of things to do. We went to Ball’s Bluff Battlefield Regional Park, one of her favorite hiking spots. The park is the site where the Battle of Balls Bluff during the Civil War took place. It was interesting walking around the silent, serene trails, knowing it was a spot drenched in bloody history. This was a spot where the Confederate Army had won the fight. According to the American Battlefield Trust, the Union had 1,002 casualties that day.
After hiking, we went to visit Joanna and Dan at their apartment. It was an exciting reunion. We have not seen either of them in months, and the four of us have not spent time alone together in almost a year.
Joanna and Dan treated us to SideBar, a restaurant in downtown Leesburg. Like many of the businesses on the street, the restaurant was situated in renovated homes built in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The food was delicious. Our favorite dish was the sweet potato fries, which were topped with candied bacon and brie, and served with a maple sriracha sauce.
During dinner, the four of us got to talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and how it has affected the lives of those closest to us. It seems like so many people have different opinions on this movement. The four of us all fully support the peaceful protests, though we know that if we really want to see change happen, it starts with us in our personal lives. Joanna and Dan had a number of recommended podcasts for us to listen to, including 1619, an audio series created by the New York Times to enlighten listeners about the history of slavery in America and how it has impacted our country today. 1619 was the year the first enslaved Africans were brought to this country. What the four of us agreed on most is that, through all of this, the best way we can help is to educate ourselves on what has happened and what is happening in America, and then we can know better what we can do to help.
“We’ve learned that we have to speak up,” Joanna told us. “It’s not enough to just not say or do racist things. We have to call others out when they are doing something racist. And we have to be comfortable looking at ourselves and discovering where we may have biases, too.”
After dinner, we walked along the main street, taking in the sights and soaking in the historical significance of the place. We passed by homes that had been built centuries ago and signs commemorating the significant moments that had taken place there. The most notable things were the Civil War artifacts and commemorative items. According to the Thomas Balch Library website, Leesburg (originally called George Town) was built in 1740; it was named after the Lee family in 1758. We stopped at a sign in front of an old house on the street, where Robert E. Lee was treated for battle wounds he incurred during the Second Battle of Manassas (this battle occurred a little less than a year after the Battle of Balls Bluff – it was also a Confederate victory). As we walked, we passed by more historical markers, including Confederate statutes that, according to Joanna and Dan, the local government is debating removing.
On our way back to our car, we passed by a house on the market that the real estate agent, who was sitting on the front porch, claimed to be haunted. I grudgingly agreed to look around the house with my enthusiastic companions. We did not personally witness any paranormal activity, but the vibes in the home were disturbing to say the least, and I was grateful when we decided to leave.
We returned to the apartment, where we relaxed and spent more time with Joseph’s family, my soon-to-be relatives. I am so very grateful for their hospitality. It felt good to finally have the chance to catch up with them and what has been happening in their lives. Besides the fact that Joseph is more than the man I ever dreamed of marrying, I cannot believe I am so lucky that his family members are some of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. I am very excited to be a part of this family.
When we awoke the following morning, Joanna and Dan had already left for work. Joseph and I ate a quick breakfast, and then we packed our belongings and headed out for another day of adventure.
The drive to Shenandoah was almost like déjà vu. The mountains in the distance were reminiscent of the Colorado landscape we had been traveling through not long ago. Despite these mountains being smaller than their western counterparts, they were still magnificent. They stretched so high into the sky that their tips were hidden away by the white clouds.
We drove up to Stony Man Mountain, a decent hike with breathtaking views of the world below. Little Stony Man had the greatest view; from there we could see Skyline Drive winding through the trees far below. We continued hiking to the top of the summit where we were greeted with, not a view of the world below, but that of the one above. Instead of looking out at mountains and trees, we walked straight into a cloud. A white haze engulfed us while a cool mist ran across our hot, sweaty skin, shielding us from the oppressive Virginia heat. It was not the finale we were expecting to our hike, but it was one of the neatest experiences I have had at the top of a mountain.
Our next stop was Luray Caverns. I had visited the attraction when I was a young child, and while I remembered very few specifics, I could recall how fantastic the views were. Joseph, who had never been, was more skeptical.
“Where are the caverns,” he asked as we drove into the parking lot. “Are they behind the buildings?”
“They’re beneath us,” I told him with a smile. I could tell that I had piqued his interested, but he still balked at the $30 entrance fee.
As soon as we stepped into the cavern, the air chilled around us as if we had been plunged into cold water. We traveled deeper into the darkness, gazing in wonder at the rocks growing up around us. The packet we had been given for our self-guided tour told us that the caverns have been growing, inch by inch, over hundreds of millions of years. At every turn, Joseph and I tapped on each other’s shoulders and pointed to different, incredible sights. We gazed together in wonder at Mirror Lake, the largest body of water in Luray Caverns. The water projects a perfect mirror image of the ceiling above, which gives it the illusion that it is several feet deep and filled with stalagmites (when, in actuality, it has only 20 inches of water at its deepest point). Thin rock formations hung from the ceiling like veils while deep hollows plunged into darkness beside us. In one room, we were greeted by ethereal music, played like a music box from an organ that uses the speleothems around it to produce the different notes.
“This was definitely worth $30,” Joseph told me, and I beamed.
On our way home, we visited Starbucks to buy lattes and our Virginia mug, the reward for our efforts. By the time we got home, we were tired and hungry, but the burgers in the fridge and pint of ice cream waiting in the freezer were a welcome change from the makeshift meals we had made during our road trip in Colorado. I had not expected to go traveling again so soon after our last trip, but this short little adventure had been more than worth it.
And just like always, I feel like our travels taught me something. Once again, I had to step out of my comfort zone to face and experience the world around me. There are quite a few alarming things happening in our country right now, one being the realization of the treatment of some of our fellow Americans. But as we discussed in our conversations with Joanna and Dan at dinner, one of the best things we can do is to educate ourselves on the topic, and then to not sit idly by when we see injustices take place. One of the best ways I have learned to do this is through my travels. This trip gave me the opportunity to have real conversations with people, and to take a step into history. It gave me a chance to catch just a glimpse of where all of this suffering, inequity and discrimination began. And now this blog and the life I have returned to are my opportunities to use that knowledge to do my part in creating change.
As Joseph said on the top of the Stony Man Mountain, “We are officially adventurers now.” Adventurers are people who seek new experiences, who step outside of their comfort zone in the pursuit of understanding what life truly is. Adventurers are those who take risks, even if it puts them in harm’s way, to create lives that are truly meaningful, for themselves and others. Adventurers seek to find beauty where others may miss it, and along the way, they attempt to connect with other people and build friendships in unlikely places.
We are adventurers, and this blog is just one small attempt to create a little space for beauty, connection and inspiration for this world around us.
I did not realize how clean and refreshing the air in Colorado was until I woke up this morning in a hot, sweaty car, condensation dripping down the windows in the muggy Kansas morning air. I was covered in bug bites thanks to the mosquito that decided to sleep with me last night. I longed so much to return to the mountains of Colorado, but this was the morning of our second day driving back to Maryland.
Joseph and I started the day with a 5K run around the lake we slept next to. The humidity we had forgotten was heavy in our lungs. We were dripping in sweat only a mile into the run. Nevertheless, we pushed through, and at the end we rewarded ourselves with an unconventional bath in the lake. Joseph had the smart idea of placing our soap and loofah in one of our plastic food containers; it served as a makeshift bath caddy that floated in the water next to us.
The water actually felt refreshing after our run. I was reluctant to get out, but we had a long day of driving ahead of us. Our hope was to make it to Columbus, Ohio, which was eleven hours away. To do this, we would also be crossing over a time zone line, which meant we were going to lose an hour of daylight. But, we were determined to get as close to Maryland as possible so we had less driving tomorrow. Our main motivation for this was to pick up my engagement ring. Our route home is supposed to take us through the town the store is in, but if we don’t get there by six o’clock tomorrow evening, we won’t have a chance to pick it up for at least another week.
We began the drive, both tired from the previous long day of traveling. For much of the morning and afternoon, we were quiet. We listened to podcasts and music, and we tried to relax as much as we could while our backs ached from sitting for so long.
Near the end of the afternoon, we decided to listen to a podcast about my enneagram. The enneagram is a personality test that Joseph and I were interested in at the beginning of this trip. We both figured out which enneagram we are (I am a two and Joseph is a three), but after that, Joseph did much more soul-searching and discovering than I did. A week ago, he mentioned a podcast he wanted to listen to with me about my own personality, but I had put it off until today.
It was illuminating. I feel like I have not understood myself until this moment in my life. Everything about my actions, my motivations, and my thoughts actually makes sense now. The thing that characterizes twos is their desire to give and receive love, which is so strong that it can be achieved in unhealthy ways, such as neglecting self-care and manipulating others. The way to solve this is to make time for taking care of one’s own needs, which then gives the two enough energy to give more love to others without expecting anything in return.
As I have mentioned a few times, I have been struggling with my health for the past year. One of the main reasons for this is because I let it get so much worse than it needed to before finally dealing with it. I thought it was selfish to spend the time and money to take care of myself, as well as to express any needs I had to others. However, because of this, I felt so unfulfilled in the last year because I did not have any energy to engage in the normal service and giving that I am used to doing. I always felt like I was not doing enough for others, which only fueled my disappointment in myself. This, in turn, demotivated me even more to take care of myself.
It has been a vicious cycle, but I am learning now that it is important to love myself in order to love others well. It is the message I have been trying to grasp onto in the last year, but I think now I finally understand it.
The most important thing that I have to remember is this: While loving relationships are important, God is my source of love and care. He gives me everything I need. He loves me unconditionally. I do not need love from others to fill my cup; He is what sustains me. He delights in me and who I am because He created me. And He wants me to rest when I need to and to take care of myself so that I am able to do the work He has created me for.
I was honestly disappointed about the idea of going home after such an amazing trip, but having this knowledge fills me with such excitement about my future. I think something finally clicked into place, and now I feel like myself again.
After learning more about my enneagram, Joseph and I talked more deeply about each of our personalities. I find it interesting how we approach so much of life similarly, yet for such different motivations. It is important to me to serve others, both because I am filled by loving others and because I have an intrinsic belief that this is how I will receive love (which is not necessarily true). Joseph wants to serve others because he believes that is the ultimate way to live, and he is motivated by his desire for personal achievement and to not disappoint others or himself. On the outside, it looks as if we are doing the same thing, but on the inside, we have two very different internal battles taking place.
One of the most important things for any relationship is communication. The fact that we know about each others’ personalities, motivations, and thought processes helps us to have better empathy and compassion for each other. I feel that this trip has helped us both understand one another on such a deeper level, and I am excited to see what impact that will have on our future together.
Joseph and I stopped for dinner at a rest stop. We watched the sunset, feeling content and satisfied. This trip has been an amazing journey for so many reasons. We have learned more about ourselves, each other, and who we are together.
Based on what I have discovered, I could not be more enthusiastic and hopeful about our future together.
P.S. There will be more to come on the enneagram soon, and a little challenge for you! Check out the blog next week for my journey deeper into self-discovery and, hopefully, actualization.
When I woke up, the world around me was still dark. The car had grown cold in the last few hours. I snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag, wondering how much longer I had to rest.
Just then, the alarm on my phone began to blare. A small, internal grown escaped me. I shut off my alarm and allowed my head to fall back into my pillow, exhausted. Four o’clock had arrived far too early.
I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag as Joseph rolled out of his hammock. We cleaned up our campsite in silence and drove to a nearby gas station to get ready.
Our first and only stop today was Monarch Crest Trail at the Continental Divide, the site where mountains separate the rivers that flow into the Pacific Ocean from those that flow into the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was just starting to rise as we began hiking up the steep incline of the trail. We watched the light touch the tops of trees and the mountain peaks. The moon, which we have watched grow throughout our trip, sat just above the mountains in the distance, finally full and bright.
“Tyler, I have a feeling this just might be one of the best views we have ever seen,” Joseph said.
We were looking for a particular point Troy, a fellow hiker, had told us about yesterday. However, after three miles of walking, we still had not found it. We knew we must have taken a wrong turn, but today was the day we were supposed to begin our long drive back to Maryland, so we did not have time to search for it. I suggested we return to the car, but Joseph, who had a vision of the view he wanted to see, insisted we continue a little farther. After another half mile, it became apparent that we were not going to reach the top of the summit anytime soon, at least not by any conventional means.
The thing is, Joseph has never lead me on a conventional hike. When it became apparent there was not enough time to get to the point we wanted, Joseph turned instead off of the trail and straight up the mountainside. I followed him up towards the summit, scrambling over rocks and grass, my legs and lungs burning from the exertion. The mountainside was steep and the elevation was increasing rapidly. It felt as if there was not even enough air to sip on.
Just before I thought I would not be able to go any farther, the land began to level. Before I knew it, we were at the top.
The view was breathtaking, both literally and metaphorically. It was by far the best view we had seen during our entire trip in Colorado. Mist gathered beneath the peaks that stretched up towards the blushing morning sky. The pine trees basked in the bright sun’s glow while quarts crystals glistened beneath our feat. We were surrounded by land left nearly untouched by human hands, free to fully express its beauty without any constraints, and it was stunningly magnificent.
I could have spent hours at the top of that mountain, drinking in the arresting view. However, Joseph and I both knew our time in Colorado had finally come to an end. We had already extended our original trip, but this view was more than worth the time spent getting here. This was the epic Colorado finale that we never could have planned.
We stumbled back down the side of the mountain to the marked trail. I checked my watch, and I was dismayed to see that it was already the time we wanted to get back to our car, which we were currently 3.5-miles away from. Not wanting to waste any more time, Joseph and I both broke into a run.
Luckily, the trek up the mountain was far more difficult than the trip down. We sidestepped rocks and skidded down the dirt, letting the clean Colorado air fill our lungs and souls.
Just before reaching the bottom of the mountain, we met up with a group of bikers just beginning their journey. They asked us about our hike and how far we went. The entire trail is 13 miles, which we, unfortunately, did not have enough time to traverse today. We told them about the incredible view we did see, and our failed plan to start driving back to Maryland this morning at 7:30.
“Oh, I don’t think you’re going to make it,” one biker joked, glancing at his watch. The time was 8:15.
“Oh, really, I think we can do it,” I replied back with a laugh.
“Hey, we’re all Christians,” one biker said to the group. “Do you all mind if I pray before we get started?”
“Oh, wow, we’re Christians, too,” Joseph said. “Do you mind if we join you?”
So, we gathered with the bikers in a circle, our heads bowed and eyes closed. The biker who had invited us all to prayer spoke, thanking God for this opportunity for people from all over the world to gather in this place to appreciate His beautiful creation. I felt tears brimming in my eyes as I felt the love of God surge through that group of people, all from different places with different backgrounds, gathered in a place indicative of the magnificence of His handiwork.
The moment was over almost as quickly as it began. The bikers said goodbye and began their journey up the mountain as Joseph and I finished running down. We ate a quick breakfast at the car, bought a postcard and sticker to remember our experience, and then began our long drive.
Joseph drove the first four hours. We stopped at a gas station to fuel our car and our bodies, and then I drove the next few hours to another rest stop, where we bought coffee. We decided then to make another stop for dinner, and then to drive late so we could make as much progress toward our final destination as possible. While we drove, we sang along to our favorite songs, listened to podcasts, called family members, and began talking more about future nuptial plans. All the while, a sense of bittersweet contentment filled us. We are on our way home.
The last two weeks have been amazing, but every good thing must come to an end. We are tired and ready for real showers, comfortable beds, and good coffee we don’t have to pay an hour’s wages for. But we also know that returning home means the end to an incredible adventure and returning to lives where we live hours apart and have other responsibilities competing for our time and attention.
However, it’s the finitude of moments in life like this that makes them sweet. There is beauty in endings. I have learned so much about myself and my relationship with Joseph during this trip, and I am ready to use that knowledge in my everyday life. This is the end of one chapter, but it also the beginning of a new adventure that I am just as excited for.
Until then, I have two days left in the car to soak up every last moment of this journey.
One year ago, I spent my Fourth of July running into Salida, Colorado with my teammates. We were part of 4K for Cancer, a fundraiser created by the Ulman Foundation. Last year, two running and two biking teams spent their summer traveling across the country to raise money for young adults impacted by cancer.
That was one of the most impactful summers of my life. For seven weeks, I challenged myself, physically, mentally and spiritually, more than I ever had before. I met twenty of the most incredible people I have ever known, who have continued to dedicate their lives to helping others. An entire summer was dedicated to a cause much bigger than myself, and I will never regret that experience or the memories I made on that trip.
But that was the summer my chronic health illnesses, which I had spent years trying to improve, became so much worse. My self-confidence was crushed. I felt labeled by my disease. I hated the idea that my health was burdensome on anyone. The last year has been a battle against those still worsening health conditions, which ultimately lead me to being on the new supplements and diet that have made this trip a bit more complicated.
This morning, I woke up in Salida, Colorado, ready to once again spend the Fourth of July in one of the most beautiful states in America. Last year, I would never have dreamed that I would be returning to Colorado so soon, nor that I would be watching the fireworks from the same place that I did then. And I could have never imagined that the man I was dating then, the man I had probably bored my teammates by talking about so much, would be here with me, and that we would be engaged.
We began our day with a morning hike at Waterdog Lakes. Joseph had chosen the trail because he realized we had not yet done a lake trail in Colorado. When we arrived at the trail head, we met Troy, a Colorado local from Denver who told us to keep hiking to the second lake because it’s better than the first. Armed with that knowledge, we began trekking up the steep incline of the mountain. We passed cascading waterfalls, climbed rocky paths, and wound through lush pine trees before finally arriving at the first, clear, blue lake.
The second lake was more difficult to find. While searching, we met up with two other Colorado locals, Hannah and Olivia, speech pathologists from Colorado Springs. They had met in graduate school in Iowa, and they just happened to both accept jobs and move to the same apartment building in the same week, just before the novel coronavirus shut down the country. Enjoying the extra company, the four of us continued our search for the trail. What we ended up doing instead was climbing up a pile of boulders that led us to where the lake was nestled between the trees and mountain peaks. We said farewell to our new friends at the top and sat for a few minutes to enjoy the view before beginning the long walk down. It had taken us two hours to get to the top of the mountain, and there were thunder clouds once again threatening us in the distance.
Luckily, we made it to the bottom safely, just as Troy and his family were finishing their hike. We talked with him about the hike, and he recommended another trail just a few miles up the road at Monarch Crest. Joseph excitedly proposed that we wake up early for a sunrise hike tomorrow morning before beginning the drive to Maryland, and I agreed.
We headed to Salida next to spend our last day in Colorado relaxing and enjoying our time together. Just as we parked, the clouds began to sprinkle rain on us, so we hurriedly packed a lunch and headed to the park. We huddled under a tree to eat. In the middle of the park, a crowd was gathered to watch traveling circus performers from Chicago. We watched the dancing performers and trapeze artists from a distance, gasping when we were fooled into thinking a trick went wrong and applauding enthusiastically at the end of each act.
Main street was our next destination. We walked the shops, pausing to eat a scoop of ice cream and dairy-free gelato from a local parlor and to buy lattes from a small coffee shop.
The afternoon flew by, and before we knew it, the fireworks were only a few hours away. We made dinner at our car and then walked around the park and neighborhoods for an evening stroll. As the sky grew dark, we returned to our car, where we set up pillows to sit outside and watch the fireworks. We had parked just below the memorable “S” mountain in Salida, where the letter is painted in white near the top peak. For Independence Day, the “S” was lit up with white lights and a string of red lights formed a heart around the letter. We finally opened the personal-sized wine bottles we had been saving for just this occasion and toasted our final evening in Colorado.
The festivities began just after the world finally grew dark. Mountain bikes strung with lights appeared from the top of the mountain and wound their way down in an ant line formation. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, prompting one young spectator nearby to ask his parents if the bikers were famous.
The expectation in the crowd mounted as the bikers finished their descent. We all waited excitedly for the first boom and crack that lit up the night sky.
As bright colors filled the sky and gold dust rained down toward the mountain, I couldn’t help but think about the journey that brought me there (and I’m not just referring to the last two weeks). The last year of my life has been a journey that brought me to this moment. It has not been an easy year – between personal health struggles, starting my own business, the coronavirus pandemic, and so much more, this has been a tough year for me and many people. But there is no doubt in my mind that it has been the best year of my life, and a lot of that is owed to the man that was sitting beside me, watching the fireworks. I have grown a lot in the last year, and with his support, I have learned more about myself and who I am with my health problems, not who I am because of them.
So, there I was, back in Salida, Colorado, sitting beneath the fireworks, exactly where I was a year ago. In that moment, it was as if nothing had changed. But I came back to this place changed. I am now older, stronger, and more confident than the last time I was here.
There was something poetic about ending a chapter of my life with fireworks crackling above my head. Sitting there, my head rested on Joseph’s shoulder in one of the most beautiful places in the world, I could not think of a better place to begin the next part of my story.
Today was supposed to be our first day driving back home. We were going to stop by Omaha, Nebraska to spend a day there, and then we planned to slowly make our way back to Maryland. Instead, we are spending two more days in Colorado, and I could not be more thrilled.
Our first stop today was Cheyenne Mountain State Park. We didn’t have enough time to hike the mountain itself, so we chose a 6.3-mile trail that still promised great views and a decent elevation.
The trail wound around itself, leading us through unnecessary loops in the hot sun. Our exasperation mounted when we discovered that we had made a wrong turn and we had to backtrack a quarter-mile.
We were both relieved when the trail led us out of the grassy field and into the cool shade of the trees. A distant thundercloud grew closer, giving us a cool breeze and protecting us from the sun’s rays.
Unfortunately, the views from below the mountain were not spectacular, so we focused more on our conversation than our surroundings. We talked about future plans, both growing more excited by the minute. When we had the chance to turn back, we decided to hike a little longer to finish out the loop. By the end of the hike, we were both exhausted but felt accomplished. Our hike had extended over an extra two miles and had taken up over three hours of our day.
We ate lunch at a picnic table in the park, and then we headed to downtown Colorado Springs. We bought lattes and strolled as we sipped. The sidewalks were crowded with people, many of whom seemed to have forgotten that there is a pandemic. Joseph and I were two of the few people wearing masks. We dipped into a few shops, but there were not many that sparked our interest, so we left soon after and headed to Pikes Peak, one of Colorado’s 14ers (mountains in Colorado with an elevation of at least 14,000 feet) and the spot that inspired the song “America the Beautiful” by Katherine Lee Bates.
As we drove up the windy mountain road, I saw something that awoke the child at heart in me. We found Santa’s workshop.
The North Pole near Colorado Springs is really just a small amusement park (which was, unfortunately, shut down when we visited) and a gift shop. Despite this and Joseph’s exasperated reminders that it was July, I still felt so joyful surrounded by Christmas trees and sweaters.
After perusing the shop, Joseph and I continued the drive up the mountain as the first few drops of rain fell. The distant thunder cloud from this morning had finally reached us.
We reached the gate for Pikes Peak, where the attendant told us it would cost $15 per person. The price seemed a bit steep, even for such a tall, majestic mountain. Besides this, the rain was beginning to fall more earnestly, and the attendant told us if it got any worse, the mountain would most likely be closed. Not wanting to pay the money if we wouldn’t even get the reward of the view, we decided to turn back and drive down the mountain.
It was a good choice. Just as we reached the parking lot of Santa’s workshop, the light rain turned to a downpour, and then a hailstorm. Joseph and I stared as marble sized pieces of ice pelted our windshield.
We decided to start the drive to Salida earlier than expected. That, too, was a smart choice because traffic slowed our progress. When we did arrive, it was still raining, so we tied our tarp to nearby trees to create a makeshift shelter. Underneath this, we made dinner and set up camp.
Nothing today went according to plan. It was filled with impromptu choices and adventures. But that’s okay, because this entire day was an impromptu choice, an unexpected part of our impromptu road trip adventure. Planning is great, and I am glad we planned as much as we did for this trip because it made it possible for us to visit so many amazing places and see so many beautiful views. Sometimes, though, the best days are days like today, when nothing goes according to plan, but the journey itself and the good company make it more than worth it.
I had forgotten how amazing it felt to sleep in a bed. I woke up huddled in blankets, my head gently rested on a pillow, my body cuddled by the mattress. For the first time in over a week, I felt well-rested, and I started my day without any aches and pains.
Joseph and I both showered to take advantage of the luxury of indoor plumbing while we still had it. Then we packed up our belongings and returned to our road trip lifestyle as if the last 18 hours of lavish comfort had never happened.
Our plan for today was to spend the entire day in the city we had been most excited to visit – Denver. Before we left, I searched for the best coffee shops in the area. We chose to go to Huckleberry Roasters (Huck), even though the reviews said it was pricey, because, with its two U.S. Roaster Championship awards, it is supposed to be one of the best places to get coffee in the country. The cafe, like last night’s restaurant, was somewhere we never would have found had we not been looking for it. It was outside of downtown Denver, just on the outskirts of a neighborhood. The storefront had a brightly painted mural that attracted the eye, but never would I have known by the appearance that it was supposedly the best coffee in the city. Joseph and I each ordered an iced latte and sat at a picnic table in front of the store.
All our expectations were met. The coffee was a tad over-priced – six dollars for a latte is a bit much – but it was the best we had ever tasted. The milk was steamed to a silky perfection that blended smoothly with the richness of the espresso. Satisfied, we headed to City Park for a late morning walk while we sipped on our coffee.
It was hotter than we expected. As we walked around the park, sweat poured down my forehead and pooled in the crease of my elbow that was bent to hold my drink. All we managed was a short stroll before deciding to head downtown, hoping the shops would at least provide some air conditioned relief.
Our first mission in the city was to find a restroom, which was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Denver began to lose its magic after thirty minutes of searching without any luck. We finally stumbled along some public restrooms in the downtown mall, but we needed a code to unlock the doors. To obtain this code, we had to purchase an item from a local shop; then the cashier would reveal the secret numbers to us.
At this point, we were both losing patience. Luckily, someone exiting the men’s bathroom held the door open for Joseph, and just as I was about to give up, a friendly custodian, who must have seen the desperation in my eyes, unlocked the women’s bathroom door for me.
By now, Joseph and I were hungry for lunch, so we sat on a bench in the mall and ate the picnic we had packed. Once our stomachs were full, we began to peruse the shops.
Last night, driving through Denver, I had felt that magnetic energy I had experienced last summer. Gazing up at the lights, I was enamored once again by the dynamism of the city set against the beautiful backdrop of distant mountains. But today, amid the current climate of the pandemic and recent riots, Denver revealed itself to be a city like any other. We were approached by people desperate for money, and people far too high to remember why they approached us. Many of the shops were closed, some temporarily and others permanently, including the bookstore I had fallen in love with last summer, where two locals had written personalized poem just for me. Glass windows of shops had been boarded up and graffitied. The hashtag GEORGEFLOYD appeared everywhere, from spray-painted murals to electronic billboards flashing down at us.
Despite how separated we have felt during this trip from the tragedies and challenges of the last few months, we have not escaped the troubling lives we left behind. In less than a week, we will be back in Maryland, and I am sure our lives will go back to the way they were before. Nothing will have changed.
My only hope is that we will come back changed. I hope we return to our lives more compassionate, more worldly, more empathetic than when we left. I hope we will have more perspective about the current state of affairs in this country, and perhaps that will help us to know better how we can serve those around us. The reality is that the world around us has not changed, but that does not mean we cannot bring change to our personal realities.
When we reached the end of the 16th street mall, we sat on the steps of a closed store to rest and figure out where we wanted to go next. To our immense disappointment, we discovered the fireworks scheduled for tonight were cancelled. Just in the last week, Denver decided not to encourage any more crowds than were already congregating. Our original plan was to see the fireworks tonight as a finale to our trip in Colorado, and then we would take our time driving back to Maryland. However, we decided it was more important for us to see the fireworks in this state than to spread out the driving time during our trip back.
So, sitting on those steps in the heart of Denver, we decided to extend our time in Colorado by two more days, and we began to plan which attractions we wanted to add to the trip. We found a fireworks show in Salida (which is, ironically, where I saw the fireworks a year ago), so we based our itinerary on that.
We headed back to the car, nervous but excited about our new plan. The first thing that needed to happen to make this extended trip work was we needed to buy more food. There was enough to fuel us for a few days of driving, but not for days of hiking and other, more strenuous activities. We stopped by a Walmart on our way to Colorado Springs to pick up food and finally reach a resolution to another important journey we have been on: the hunt for low-FODMAP ice cream.
I have been craving ice cream since this trip began, and I reached my breaking point last night after dinner. We had stopped at gas stations, supermarkets, and ice cream shops last night and earlier today, but we had not had any luck. However, in the frozen section of Walmart, we found one, small ice cream bar that I could eat. Bolstered by this, we drove to the same Bass Pro parking lot we had stayed at a few days ago, where we hurriedly made dinner. As another treat for ourselves, we had bought a small bag of shrimp to eat with the rice we had packed for the trip. It was a nice change from the canned tuna and chicken we have been eating for days.
By the time we ate the ice cream, it had melted to the consistency of a milkshake, but it was still just as tasty as it would have been frozen.
Joseph set up his hammock while I prepared the back of the car for me to sleep. The night spent in a bed seemed like a distant memory. But, as I laid down to rest, I couldn’t help but think of how privileged I am. I, too, have struggled during this pandemic because of my compromised immune system and a lack of work, but I have been blessed with an incredible support system that has helped make sure I have been taken care of. I am not wanting for anything. And while some people are worrying about food, illness, and riots, I am on a road trip in one of the most beautiful states in America with my fiancé. While some people are facing challenges simply because of the color of their skin, I am on the adventure of a lifetime with a beautiful ring and a future full of opportunity waiting for me when I return home.
The world has not changed. I realize that this road trip is a blessing, that all of the inconveniences, difficulties, and challenges we have faced during it are nothing in comparison to what many people face in their daily lives. I know that the challenges I have always faced in my life, from being a woman, from struggling with chronic illness since the age of 10, from simply being human, cannot compare to what other people have experienced.
But I have changed on this trip. Even in these short 11 days, I have grown and matured, and I have gained new perspectives of this world around me. I have learned more about myself and others, and I have grown stronger. I am ready to return home and find where I belong to do good in this world. There is so much in me that I am ready to share; this blog is just a start.
When I woke up this morning, the shirt I changed into was the one I earned last summer when I ran across the country with the Ulman Foundation. It’s a bright yellow shirt, with the words “Be Courageous” emblazoned on the front in dark blue letters. It’s one of my favorite shirts, one that always reminds me of the feat I accomplished last year and that serves as a helpful reminder for my life.
Already feeling encouraged, I excitedly began my day, even though the difficulties of this trip were starting to get to both Joseph and me. Our biggest complaint today was how badly we needed to shower. The way we smelled was starting to offend even us, so I can only imagine what other people thought. My feet, the one part of me I had not been able to get clean even in our makeshift outdoor showers, were caked in dirt.
Luckily, we reserved an Airbnb for tonight in Denver. For much of our day, instead of being excited about the adventures we were experiencing, we were most looking forward to showering. Every hour, Joseph gave me the countdown of how long it would be until we would be clean again.
We started our day with an easy two-and-a-half-mile hike with a view of the mountains in the background. We then stopped at a local library so I could teach a yoga class via Zoom, and then we headed to Chautauqua Park for a more strenuous afternoon hike.
Per a local’s suggestion, we did the Flatiron trail. It was another two-and-a-half-mile hike, but this one had an elevation of over 1,400 feet. The trail took us straight up the side of the mountain with no place to rest. Breathing heavily, we managed to keep conversation going as we scaled the rocky landscape.
“Is it worth it,” Joseph jokingly asked some hikers on their way down the trail.
“Oh, yes,” one woman said. “The view is always worth it.”
She was not wrong. Joseph and I sat at the top, feeling accomplished and satisfied. The flatirons resembled rockslides caught at a single, picturesque moment and left that way for eternity. The rocks formations slanted against the mountainside, creating three, nearly identical plates. In the distance, we could see the mountain we hiked yesterday against the backdrop of taller, snowier peaks.
The trip down was long and tiring. My legs were shaking from the amount of exertion I have placed on them over the last few days. I was definitely ready for a good night’s rest.
We ate a quick picnic lunch in the park, and then we began the drive to Denver. On the way, we stopped at a Starbucks to purchase lattes and the souvenir I have been most excited about. Last year during 4K for Cancer, one of my teammates, Illona, told me about the mugs she buys at Starbucks everywhere she visits. Each mug is designed for the particular city, state or country the Starbucks is located at, with the name of the place and images reminiscent of different landmarks located there. As a world traveler, she had mugs from many different countries. She told me how, when she had guests, she coyly would ask them from where they would like to drink their coffee: Paris? California? And then she would serve them coffee in the corresponding mug.
I thought it was such a cute idea at the time. Then, as Joseph and I grew more serious in our relationship, I thought it was the perfect souvenir for us to get on all of our travels together. We are avid coffee drinkers, and Starbucks stores are everywhere. We were bound to dip into one on all of our future travels at some point, so why not get a corresponding mug from each place to make a collection?
The Colorado mug is the first of our collection. I can’t wait to see how many other mugs we will add to the shelf in our future home.
Our Airbnb was tall, blue house in a nice neighborhood just twenty minutes outside of Denver. The first and most important thing on both of our agendas was taking a shower. Joseph went first, and he came back looking refreshed, his shin a couple shades lighter now that the dirt was scrubbed from it.
“I feel like a new man,” he told me. “I feel like we are a different species now.”
I jumped up eagerly, grabbed my toiletries, and went into the bathroom. I turned the water the temperature up as hot as I could stand, and then I let it cascade down me, watching dirt run off my skin and into the drain. I massaged my head with shampoo until my fingers were numb, and then I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw. Even after all that, I’m not sure I was entirely clean, but I finally felt human again. I can’t even express how revitalizing that shower was. After ten days without one, it felt like a luxury.
Joseph and I relaxed in the room in our sweats until it was time to get ready for dinner. I had searched for the best places to eat in Denver and then carefully scanned the menus of each place for something I could eat on my new, restrictive diet. I found two places, and yesterday, Joseph and I made reservations at Roxy on Broadway.
We dressed up in fancy clothes, he in khakis and a button-down red and black plaid shirt, and I in my classic little black dress. Feeling as if we were first-class citizens, not two young adults who had just spent the last week camping and sleeping in their car, we exited the house and approached our car. It seemed odd that we no longer matched our ride; while we had transformed our appearance in the matter of two hours, this car was a stark reminder of where we had actually come from, with its cracked windshield, duct-taped rooftop carrier, and dirt streaks. But this car had carried us all the way from Maryland to the last stop of this adventure; no other mode of transportation would be fitting to carry us to our celebratory dinner.
Roxy on Broadway was hidden away from the bustle of downtown Denver. With its garage-style door and simple, brick appearance, it could easily be overlooked. But inside, it was a 1920s era dream. Candle-lit chandeliers hung from the ceiling in front of the bar stacked with local liquors. Tables and chairs had been set up for customers to sit theatre-style in front of a small stage, where two musicians played. The menu featured classic prohibition-era cocktails, while the food was modern and diverse.
The staff was pleasant and accommodating. When we had made a reservation, Joseph had written in the notes that I was on a low-FODMAP diet, something most people don’t and probably will never have to know about. While the menu featured multiple gluten-free and vegan options, it was difficult to be absolutely sure which selections would not aggravate my stomach. The chef, however, had already taken this into consideration. I was assured by our hostess upon arrival that he was fully aware of my needs. I ordered a kale salad, and the chef whipped up a homemade oil and vinegar dressing so that I could enjoy it without any adverse side effects. Meanwhile, Joseph enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich with a side of the best french fries I have ever tasted. They were substantial, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, and seasoned to perfection.
Joseph and I toasted all that we have accomplished and experienced together over these last few months in quarantine – his graduation, his birthday, and our engagement. It was our first drink together in a restaurant, and I am so glad we waited. It felt good to toast to life in a city a mile high in the sky.
The musical entertainment for the night featured Erik Fellenstein, a Colorado local. He started his show with a guitar accompaniment, but the second half he performed by himself. Joseph and I stayed longer than expected to catch his full performance. We thoroughly enjoyed his jazzy, folksy style, and many times we caught ourselves laughing at his jokes. His songs were entertaining, both lyrically and instrumentally, and I was struck constantly by the breadth of his talent. He sang with soul, and he played the violin with a richness that is often lacking by musicians.
At the end of his performance, Joseph and I clapped with the rest of the crowd, sipped the last of our drinks, and then left to visit Larimer Square. To our disappointment, the lights strung across the street were still lit, but the shops were closed. Vowing to return tomorrow, we returned to our AirBnb for a much-needed night’s rest in a luxuriously warm and soft bed.
Be courageous. It was the message on the shirt given to me after I had completed the most courageous adventure I have ever been on, and it is the message I still try to remind myself of every day. While 4K is still probably the most amazing feat I have ever accomplished, I have the opportunity every day to do something courageous. It took courage to go on this road trip, especially when I had just started such a strict and limiting diet for my health, which has been declining steadily for the past year. It took courage to have the tough conversations I have had with Joseph during our long car rides, and to explore deeper into my own psyche during those trying moments. It took courage to place my trust in another person, to be vulnerable with him, and to promise to spend the rest of my life with him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.
These moments that take courage can be daunting at their best and absolutely petrifying at their worst, but as Joseph and I were reminded by that Boulder local during our hike today, the mountain is always worth the climb. The courage it takes is always worth the adventure it takes me on.
Follow your dreams. Explore life outside of your comfort zone. Be courageous. You never know what amazing adventures life will have waiting for you when you do.
. I haven’t finished it yet, so I can’t give you a formal review, but thus far, it has been truly captivating and difficult to put down. I am very much looking forward to finishing this book during my trip.
