Beaver Creek housing is shaping up to be much cozier than my past two rotations. I suppose I was getting a bit spoiled, with my own room and spacious kitchens (which, let’s be honest, I underutilized). Here, I share a bedroom with one other girl and have two more roommates across the living room. The kitchen is minuscule, but the bedroom is pleasantly spacious, and I managed to get all my little boxes and bags unpacked and squared away within our space. All the other girls are very friendly and helpful thus far, which, since we have to rub along together for five months, is a good way to start out.
Views of my half of the bedroom
I have yet to figure out a reliable way to travel to and from the lower town area, although I managed to meander to the grocery store once, but I have managed to find the base of the mountain and locate the lifts I’ll be using to access work. It’s a bit odd, not being able to actually walk to the place itself, but if past seasons are any indication, I’ll be steadily settled in a week or two.
The pattern of impressions and feelings is certainly holding true and in the uneasiness of the first week, I am holding to the little details of routine that I like to claim help me survive and maintain a semi-healthy level of sanity.
These details range from calculating the length of my stay in improbable fractions to visiting the grocery store as often as is on the inside edge of reasonable. 3/19 isn’t an easily envisioned fraction for me, but it’s a marker, proving to my frustrated brain that time is, in fact, passing. And even if I don’t need much from the store, I’ll wander the aisles and take comfort in the neat rows of food. I’ll admit, I’m not sure how much of my comfort comes from the fact that I don’t have to cook it all… Here in Beaver Creek, or BC according to the omnipresent resort symbols, I am having to become accustomed to a new grocery store, as the local City Market chain is the only location close enough to walk to easily. The rows of shelves still seem to work their soothing balm, though, so the adjustment hasn’t been terribly rough yet.
Dinky little kitchen
I am still deciding how I want to deal with my running schedule – there’s no race looming in the distance to dictate what mileage I want to aim for in long runs and I’m still working through elevation change. I should certainly look for a hilly race for my next competition – my choices for running from the apartment are grueling uphill and then down to finish off, or relaxed downhill and then up to finish off. Eventually regular runs will happen, since they are the happiest way to shake out stagnant kitchen standing muscles and de-must my head with crisp air.
Since last season’s blog-a-week was frequent enough to share the good bits, but not over-pressuring to my various other scheduled events, I’m also trying to keep up with regular postings. And since this season is quite probably my last with Vail, I’ll be trying something I’ve hardly ever done – daily journaling. I kept one sporadically when I was 10-14 and journaled daily for the length of a trip to the east coast with grandparents, but daily for five months will be far and away the most I’ve tried for.
The bedrooms hold two of us apiece, and all four of us share this living area, the bathroom, and aforementioned dinky kitchen.
So this is the blog recounting the five days into the first settling, wherein I become accustomed to elevation, living quarters, bus schedules, grocery store locations, roommates, and not-at-homeness. Next week, I up the ante and juggle everything from the first week along with the start of my official job, investigations into my chances for a regular schedule, meeting a new chef, learning how transport to and from work will be handled, and an abundance of people to talk to while having very few to talk with.
Tune in next week to see how far my sanity has crumbled.
View from the balcony at the back of the apartment.