After driving nearly 3,600 miles round trip, I look back at my time with the “H” squad wishing I could drop 100 lbs in order to fit in one of their packs, and just generally longing for a community like that. Creating community on the race was easy–we were dropped into a team of like-minded peers with the same basic mission goals, where we were inclined to press in to one another to make the year a success relationally. It’s quite different now. I spend little time at “home,” work with the elderly–not only are they not at all peer-age, but it’s typically just a one-to-one ratio, making community difficult–and sometimes am not even able to attend church or bible study because of work conflicts. It makes it so much harder to establish community when it’s not a common thought among the people you interact with daily. My friends and I have different schedules, different goals, different living situations, and different hearts in general. I find myself fluctuating between disappointment with my current circumstances and gratitude for the challenge it is–not to mention being able to spend time with family.
I talked to another former Racer the other night–one I hadn’t talked to since the end of the race–and he asked me how I was doing. Initially I wanted to say “great!” because my current mood was. However, I hesitated. I finally said, “You know what? I don’t know how I am.” Some days are better than others, and giving him a one-word response, based on my mood, in order to sum up the last three months since the end of the race just seemed insufficient. We ended up talking for quite a while about how difficult the transition really has been.
I find myself longing to be back with my team not because I just miss them, but because I didn’t always have to be this “uber-christian” around them. I saw the same group of people day in and day out, and they didn’t expect me to have my best foot forward all the time–they expected me to be genuine, whether great or miserable. Now I feel like I can’t have my days where I just feel drained–physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I see different people every day, and I doubt any of them really wants to spend time with me on the day that I’m not feeling myself. 
A huge part of my job is companionship, so I can’t exactly walk into work, up to my client and say, “Man, I’m just not feeling it today. You’re going to have to find some other form of entertainment because I’m not up for conversation.” Maybe I could, but I don’t feel like it would be widely appreciated if I showed up for bible study and said, “I’m not really feeling like participating tonight so I’m just going to sit here and listen.” I think part of the reason is that they don’t know me well enough. My community on the race knew my typical behavior, and knew the difference when I was having an “off” day; or knew when it was a good idea to let me have some alone time. I haven’t figured out how to establish that here. If you have a manuscript for this and are holding out, I’d appreciate if you shared some wisdom.
