After a big move, running helped me learn to love where I live

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By Ronnie Koenig

When my family moved from New York City to suburban New Jersey a year and a half ago, I was a girl with high-heeled boots, a useless MetroCard and a big chip on my shoulder. Sure, our new town was adjacent to a university, and offered many cultural options, cute coffee places and restaurants, but to me it was not home. I knew I would miss the ability to step out my door and just walk to wherever I was going. In Brooklyn, there’s a certain energy in the streets — people are out and about, and you never know who or what you’ll encounter just steps away from your door. Here in Princeton, the sidewalks seemed strangely quiet. Where are all the people? I wondered.

Another frustration was being car-less. In Brooklyn, our little beater was a luxury — a way to escape the city for field trips to Stone Barns, Wave Hill or apple picking. In New Jersey, having two cars is pretty much the standard. Each day when my husband took the car to work, I felt like I was stranded in a lonely episode of the “Jersey Shore.” The cashier at the Rite Aid behind our house was quickly becoming my only connection with humanity. When I was with our then 6-year-old twins, we Ubered to after-school activities and even took cars to the mall when we needed a change of scenery. When my son got used to scoping out the random Toyota Camrys that would shuttle us to the local library, I knew this wasn’t the best way for us to become part of our new community. Something had to change.

source: nbcnews.com