As you know, I’ve been on dating apps during my trip but nothing has worked out and not only have dates not happened, I got stood up in Montana. While I was in San Diego I went on my first date since covid (since November 2019 but who’s counting!?). I met up with him at Park and Rec in University Heights which is a cute bar with a Spanish style patio area and super yummy craft cocktails. He was nice and all but we didn’t really hit it off. He bought my drinks and walked me to my car like a gentleman but I think we both knew there wouldn’t be any follow up. It was a little awkward but not a waste of my time- it felt good to get back out there.
On another perfect day in paradise, in OB I went back to Wonderland for a drink or two and got excited to learn they would be broadcasting the Patriots’ game that Sunday morning (at 10 am because… pacific time). I talked to the bartender and she ended up buying one of my drinks which was sweet and unexpected.
On my second to last Saturday I went to a 3 hour workshop with Chi-running. I am desperate to heal my injury and then stay injury free. My badass instructor, Lisa, was a college sprinter and then worked for Cal fire for her entire career and retired as captain- I told you, badass. She taught me the Chi-running philosophy and I’ve been working on my posture, using gravity to my advantage, and leading with my dan tien. Lisa is coming to Boston for a running conference in January and we are hoping to get together.
That Saturday evening I went to Ketch Grill and Tap in Shelter Island which is on a harbor in San Diego Bay. I took a seat at the bar and tried to relax but was experiencing a lot of anxiety. It caught me off guard because my anxiety felt pretty good while in San Diego and anything that came up passed quickly. I sat watching the Padres/Giants game calmly letting myself know if I was too anxious to eat I could order food to go and go home to eat instead. I was able to relax and have a delicious Macadamia crusted mahi with coconut risotto. It seems like maybe, just maybe, the anxiety is getting easier to ride out.
The next day was my last Sunday and I had a tough choice to make: go to the beach bar to watch the Patriots’ game OR go to a nude beach in La Jolla. After much internal debate, I chose the beach because I can watch the Pats game any old Sunday but this might be my only nude beach opportunity.
After taking at least 15 minutes to choose a bathing suit I might take off, because bad body image days (weeks/months) are real, I headed to La Jolla.
Arriving at Torrey Pines State Park I knew from Yelp that there was a steep hike down to Black’s Beach. I grabbed my chair and my Better Buzz latte and made my way down the 322 steps to the beach.
I had been amping myself up all morning to take my bathing suit top off on this nude beach however, that all changed when the only people who were naked were old men in larger bodies. I didn’t want to be the only female with boobs out on the beach and I didn’t want to be the only female with boobs out on the beach who has 35 year old boobs and is sitting next to a group of five 20 year olds and I also didn’t want to be the only 35 year old female with her boobs out next to two 30ish year old guys I could hear fat shaming some of their friends who weren’t present or the several groups who took too many pictures of the beach to feel comfortable and then hell if I was going to be the only 35 year old female on the beach with her boobs out next to the young family of three.
Needless to say, I never took my top off, all the while the men were all peacocking around wearing only sun hats. It was like, not only did the men not give a second thought to taking their bathing suits off, but they also absolutely had to be standing up and walking the beach at all times- they were not there to starfish on a towel and get a tan without lines.
After a couple hours I went to explore La Jolla. I went to La Jolla cove and saw dozens of sea lions and seals; they were all snuggling in pig piles sunning on the beach and the rocks. It was the first time I’ve actually seen them up close and it was truly magical.
After finally pulling myself away from the seals I went to The Cove to get a burger and sit at their outdoor bar watching the second round of Sunday football games.
During my last week I went to Verbatim books which was close to the Golden Hill neighborhood I was staying in. It is a huge eclectic bookstore with all of the windows wide open because, as mentioned many times, San Diego weather is heaven on earth.
On Wednesday after work I went to Liberty Station which is an old naval training institute built in 1923. The barracks were built in the Spanish Colonial Revival style. The area is now full of bars, restaurants, shops, dozens of artist showrooms, and beautiful courtyards.
I went to Stone Brewing which has the largest outdoor courtyard space I’ve ever seen at a brewery. I sat at a zen bar that was created around a raised pond full of lily pads and a raised charcoal fire pit. I ate some tacos and enjoyed a glass of red wine with the best view in the whole place.
On my last Thursday I met back up with Jenna at Ketch; the first time when I went alone I sat at the bar and so returning with a friend we were able to sit outside on the porch overlooking the yacht harbor.
I made Jenna tell me every detail of Kelsey’s wedding and her subsequent day trips all over New England to get my fill of home. I truly wish I could have gone to the wedding and I wish I could have been honest with Jenna about why I wasn’t going.
I’ve missed so many life events for friends because of my anxiety: a friend’s wedding in Puerto Rico, another friend’s bachelorette party in Austin, visiting Kels in San Diego and then her wedding, too. I don’t want anxiety to run my life anymore. I truly believe this trip is helping and I also know I will need to do some work around flying. I hope to do my own exposure work with that when I am back in Boston.
Back to my last week in San Diego… I went to Old Town on Friday afternoon and wandered around the historic buildings where the first European colonists settled in California. The Kumeyaay Tribe originally lived in the area now known as San Diego but they retreated to the hills once the Spaniards arrived and started setting up the Missions to convert indigenous people to Christianity.
The historic buildings and spaces were interesting but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the history of the soil I was standing on. It is set up like Old Sturbridge Village and most of the people working there, many of whom are Hispanic, are all dressed in old fashioned outfits like the Colonizers would have forced them into wearing.
I enjoyed walking around because I knew my sister had visited San Diego for Comic Con several years ago and brought back a tiny green sugar skull for me. I felt connected to her even though we are an entire country apart.
About 30 minutes into my visit the sky opened up and it began pouring rain, thundering, and lightning. I hadn’t seen rain since my first week in Seattle 4 months ago. The locals hadn’t seen rain in over a year.
I decided instead of running across the open courtyard in the rain and lightning I would sit down to have a margarita at the restaurant I was standing next to. I sat on the outdoor covered patio while lightning cracked overhead and watched as all the locals wrapped themselves in large trash bags to both walk to their cars and sit at the restaurant.
I started talking with a couple from San Bernardino and they quickly invited me to sit with them at their table. It rains so infrequently that as we were talking about how close the storm was I realized they had never heard of counting between the lightning and the thunder to guess how far away a storm is. We talked a lot about sports and traveling and once the rain let up we said our goodbyes. They were so kind and offered to connect me to a friend in Austin and they paid for my drink.
After leaving Old Town I went to OB to walk around. There were tons of surfers out enjoying the storm surge.
On my last day in San Diego, a Saturday, I went to Coronado Island which is a resort city across the bay. The majority of the island is an active Naval air station. The houses and neighborhoods are beautiful and I wish I had gone a few more times to walk around.
The island is known for their beautiful beaches and the Hotel del Coronado. I started my day at the beach but it was a bit overcast from the rainstorm the day before so I headed to my next stop after about an hour.
The fancy Hotel del Coronado was built in 1888 and consists of multiple buildings and private bungalows (which are actually large houses) with their own private pools. There are multiple restaurants, bars, and cafes.
I went to Babcock and Story which is a restaurant with a huge outdoor patio and a bar that opens onto it. I sat and drank a fancy Bees Knees cocktail because it came in a martini glass and I wanted to be a little fancy even though I was in a bathing suit and beach coverup with no makeup and a bit salty/sandy/stinky. I relaxed and watched the Red Sox lose to the Yankees in the top of the 8th. Even with the loss it was a great way to end my stay in San Diego.
Lastly, I can’t talk about my time in San Diego without talking about Mackey and Ollie. Mackey is an older man who was staying in one of the units in the placeI was also staying in; Ollie is his adorable Maltese puppy.
We ran into each other in the yard all the time and would talk while I loved on Ollie. Mackey is from Florida but is staying in San Diego near his daughter while he takes care of some health problems.
He is the kindest man and I loved speaking with him. He told me many times he didn’t know what he’d do without Ollie. It was hard to see him on the days he wasn’t feeling well. I could tell he was weak and unstable on his feet where usually he’s out and about walking with Ollie.
As my time in San Diego was coming to an end, I was sad to think of leaving; it was also hard to say goodbye to Mackey knowing I’d never see or talk to him again. I left him and Ollie a card on their door as I left on Sunday morning; I will wonder how they are doing for the rest of my trip.
Where My Feet Are 