Chasing the Unicorn to the Wild West

Our lives seem to turn in ten year cyles.  When my hubby turned 40 we had turned our world upside down and moved from England to America - a boozy leaving party at the golf course and we were off into the wild blue yonder of another country. Of course his 50th coincided with us doing a similar move, moving from one side of America and leaving the suburbs of Pennsylvania for the East Bay in California.  My parents and sister wondered if we were just going to keep going and drop off the edge when he turned 60 - what was with all the moving?

When we had moved to Pennsylvania our kids were young and I met people instantly over play dates, PTA and school activities. Our ten years in Pennsylvania had been laced with some wonderful friendships - not least the running housewives of Blue Bell, who were irreplaceable.  Every time I said goodbye to one of them I couldn't help but cry, then I vacuumed some more, then cried some more.  Needless to say our empty house was very clean by the time we drove to the airport.

New starts mean new efforts - the kids grumbled when the first day of school loomed about how hard it was going to be when everyone had already brought their middle school friends with them to their first Freshman day in High School; the Senior was dreading knowing no one and could not decide what to wear. My usual style of sympathetic motherly advice was 'don't start bleating to me - you are going to arrive at a great school, where some body has hand picked other kids who are the same age as you, many will have the same interests as you.  Making new friends will never be as easy again as it is for you today'.

I of course was feeling much more sorry for myself.  Walnut Creek was gorgeous, stunning in all its natural beauty of trails and mountains, and was bathed in an eternal golden glow of unbelievable California weather - but what was paradise without company?  We had some fabulous family friends who lived here too, they had moved from Blue Bell a few years earlier and we were excited to be close to them, but really, we couldn't completely monopolize them, they had their own friends and their own life and I would have to find one of my own.

The kids had gone off for their exciting adventure, hubby was busy innovating - that left me, the dog and the dishes!  It was much harder to meet people now, the kids didn't want me anywhere near 'their play dates' or their school.  The answer to a funk is always the same for me - lace up the shoes and make yourself feel better.  I took to one of the many charming canal trails outside my door - shady, quiet and impossible to get lost on, they were such an easy way to get miles in.

After about twenty minutes I saw two ladies running up ahead - they seemed to be about my age and looked like sprightly runners.  My desire for new friends was such I bounded up to them like a golden retriever and engaged them in lots of conversation.  They were plugged into i-pods and reluctantly unglued their ear pieces and graciously answered by insane babble about how I was new to the area and wondered what the running scene was like....blah dee blah blah.  After some time they were branching off to home and one of the ladies suggested I get in touch with her through her office web site as she was an orthodontist.  Elated at my new friendship I dropped her a line and suggested making a time to run again.  I was so proud of myself!  Well a week or so went by and I realized she wasn't going to answer....ever ...she clearly thought I was totally insane, had a good running partner already and frankly didn't want her ear chewed off by an over excited English runner.

I listened to the kids tell me about their days at school and they were doing a terrific job of navigating all the new groups and figuring out who they wanted to hang with.  I on the other hand was making baby steps and figured it would be about ten years until I had found half the friendships they were making.  Then a week or so later I was runnning on the same canal path and distracting myself from my solitary running, by finally getting on with some speed work.  Half way through a mile repeat I spotted a lady up ahead with a border collie off leash.  Usually I ignore dogs;  at most they want to say hi or just play, or they ignore you.  So I carried on running at full tilt towards him - then I realized at the last minute that he wasn't going to move out of the way.  He didn't seem to care I was wearing my pink distance newtons and I was half way through my mile repeats - he definitely had other intentions, and they didn't look good. I braked suddenly and swerved wildly towards the canal as he seemed to be leaping right at me - then he did just, that jumped up with a maniacal gleam in his eyes and sank his choppers right into my bum!

Needless to say I reacted in my usual fashion I screamed at its owner to 'get it on a bloody leash'; she called the dog over to her, but didn't leash him.  Then in a quavering tone the heavyset lady with shockingly bad highlights turned on me too; "my dog has just witnessed my father die, he is deeply upset, as am I, and I needed to let him 'romp' to get over it!, and that is why he is off leash' .  A tirade of self pity from the owner ensued, about how none of it was her fault; she never once asked if I was OK, she never asked if she could pay to replace the brand new shorts the dog had ripped through.  When she seemed to run out of steam I asked her to leash her dog, she vented some more, I asked her to leash her dog, she vented again - finally on the third request the leash reluctantly went on.  After an incident like that, you can always think of smart things to respond with. Hearing someone's Dad has just died does knock out all of your anger, and you have to assume that no reasonable person would even think to lie about such a thing.  So all I came up with in an aggrieved and injured tone was 'I am truly sorry your Dad died, but you seem to be entering a spiral of descent, because if I have to call the police and report the fact that your unleashed dog bit me today, he could then be put down if he has bitten before....and will any of this honor the memory of your Dad?'  She stomped off, taking her attitude and bad highlights with her leaving me deflated and off beam.

I ran on slowly, all the steam taken out of me, the dog had only bruised the skin, hadn't broken it, so no real need to be worried, but I was shaken up.  It had spoilt my run and my day. Ahead of me was a group of other women running - dang if it wasn't a chance to turn a bad day into a good one and make new friends after all.  This time I limped up, rather than bounding up, and asked if they had by any chance seen an off leash border collie - and had any of them ever been bitten on this trail before?  This time there were no ear buds - but a bunch of very welcoming, sympathetic ladies.  They weren't quite the housewives, for a start they all had impressive careers - a vet, obstetrician, radiologist, photographer and jewelry designer - but they were chatty, fun and kind.  Guess what, next day they emailed me for another run.  That night at dinner it wasn't just the kids who had interesting stories to tell - I had found running company at last.....