La Jolla Shores Cove, San Diego, CA

It has been a whirlwind six months since moving back to SoCal. I’ve reconnected with old friends and made a few new ones. I’ve been on a never ending dating carousel that seems to offer up everything from the artistic wanderer to the can’t-live-without-my-suit businessman. And don’t get me started on the surfers. I could spit blind in any direction and probably hit three. I’ve met good guys, bad guys, and some great guys. I’ve been to the theater, attended festivals and weekend street fairs – perfect place for rekindling my relationship with spicy chilaquiles and homemade tamales and orxata. Have I told you there’s nothing better than chilled spiced rice milk on a hot day? There really isn’t.

Treating my friend Sean from DC to George’s on the Cove, complete with an unobstructed view of the Pacific and amazing seafood.

Some of my favorite me-time activities have been exploring the city I left just over six years ago. I still am shocked to realize how much it has developed, both downtown and in the tiny hipster neighborhoods and suburbs. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that two of my favorite restaurants are still around. If anyone ever wants dynamite sushi hit up Taka in Gaslamp. For modern American with a southern twist I highly recommend Searsuckers as well. And then there are the new restaurants. Now that I am 30 instead of a fresh 23 I have more funds at my disposal and I have been more willing to venture to some of the nicer restaurants in town. Each time I check one off my list I end up adding two more. Not a bad problem to have, right?

Hiking at Blacks Beach, San Diego, CA

But what I absolutely love the most since moving back is the yearlong freedom of being outside. October is almost over and we are still experiencing temperatures in the high eighties. Some may cringe at the idea of heat in the Fall but for me it is paradise. By now I would be spending my evenings and many of my weekend afternoons curled up under a blanket, already covered head to toe in sweats and a sweater with my fuzzy socks covered feet peeping out from underneath. The banging of the cold wind against the glass windows would only force me to burrow further into my makeshift warmth cave while simultaneously turning up on the volume on the TV to drown out the sounds. By the time Winter rolled around I would be in full-fledged hibernation mode, acutely aware of my lack of exposure to sunlight as the face in the mirror would grow paler by the day. I was not made for seasons.

Now that I am back I am thriving. Still the same sarcastic, smiling girl I was before moving out east, I have started to notice that the jaunt in my step I have been missing these past few years is back with a vengeance. I now find myself rarely

Trail running (and cave hibernation) at Torrey Pines National Park

wanting to stay inside. Want to go for a hike? Sure! What do you think about a run along the beach? Bring it! How about going surfing? Yeah, I know I suck it but I’ll give it another shot.

It may not seem like much to many but each day I wake up smiling because when I wake up I feel at home. I do not feel out of place in my loft studio in the center of San Diego, even among the masses crowded into the eight downtown blocks on a Friday night. I do not feel lost if I’ve taken the wrong turn on a trail run in the middle of Balboa Park because I know my feet will find their way home. Sure I may be waxing a tad hard on the zenlike state I find myself in but it’s hard to keep happiness bottled up. My feet do not feel restless and I am no longer looking towards the horizon wishing I was moving on to

Sunset at Coronado Beach

my next adventure. That’ll come in a few years time. For now I am happy with where I am and I will continue to explore and hike and run as much as I am able to and for as long as the sun is out and shining bright. And in San Diego that can mean a lifetime.