Adventures WorldRace SethBarnes Sponsorship Giving

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   Home.
 
   One word with so many feelings, meanings and expectations binding it together. Leaving home was one of the hardest things for me to do. There were moments on the race when all I wanted was to come home where everything was normal and comfortable. 

    -Struggling in the heat of India, sick from too much spice all I wanted was a cool Cariboo
      breeze and ginger ale with orange juice.
 
    -Living in close quarters month after month, unable to go anywhere on my own I longed for
      the freedom to take off for a walk across the field or a random drive to wherever I pleased
      to spend time by myself.  

   -Struggling to hand wash clothing in all but two countries I dreamed of the day when I 
      could simply throw my clothing into a machine, turn a knob and return half an hour later to 
      clean clothing.

   -Month after month of squatty potty’s and bucket
      showers left my hair greasy and a deep
      heartfelt wish for the ability to pursue a higher 
      standard of hygiene.

   -Salo. Deep fried tarantulas. Chicken foot
      soup…The list goes on and so did my desire
      for familiar food items.

 
 
 
   Comfort and the lack thereof…  

   That was the major difference between the wide array of comparisions I entertained when my thoughts turned to home. What made me comfortable, what I liked or enjoyed and what was currently forcing me out of my day to day ‘normal’ routine. Somewhere in the middle of 11 months of challenges, reality checks and victories I let go of my assumed rights and entitlements. I got used to being too hot all of the time, eating strange food, sleeping on the floor, never getting time to myself, hand washing clothing and only having access to the minimal amount of supplies that I could carry in my 65L pack. 

   Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, my transient minimalist World Race life became normal to me and my team of 5 became like family. Home remained a pleasant reward but life on the race was my present reality and I loved it in spite of all the challenges. 
 

    
    Now, home and comfortable, I find myself struggling with a brand new kind of discomfort. I miss the race. I miss time with my team and having 40 other people able to relate to what it’s like to give everything up, live side by side with the poor and needy and move to a new country every month. Until I came home it didn’t seem weird to have a conversation including statements like:   
          
      “When I was in Australia (India, Nepal, Thailand, Malaysia, ect…)”
 
      “At month 5 debrief…”
      
      “I got feed back on…”  
      
      “I just wanted to speak life over her!”
 
   For me doing the World Race was an enormous step of faith. I had never even been away from home for more than 2 or 3 weeks on my own prior to leaving. It took all of the courage I could muster to leave and it took even more for me to stay. But I did it. I risked it all, I went and I found out that I am stronger, more confident and more capable than I had at first believed. As the months came and went so did my insecurities. 
 
   Now I’m home but I miss the community and nations that challenged, stretched and broke my heart. I am comfortable and at home in a physical sense but my heart hurts more than I expected it would. I love my family and I love Quesnel but I still feel a little bit lost without U know, U squad.