In the last week I found myself doing something very…let’s call it North Dakotan.

I made a Costco run.

On the surface, that probably doesn’t sound unusual. Most of my extended family lives in northern Indiana, and Costco runs are pretty routine there. They can happen on a random Tuesday afternoon if you run out of paper towels.

That is not how it works in Minot.

Here, a Costco run is a full-day adventure.

It’s nearly a two-hour drive, which means there are logistics. Will the kids come? Should I bring coffee? If I’m driving that far, I want it to be worth it, so I better check prices online first. I should probably double-check that the items I want are actually in stock. The list must be crafted carefully—this is not a trip you want to waste.

And since I’ll already be in Bismarck, maybe I should call a friend who lives there. If nothing else, we could meet in the food court for $1.50 hot dogs.

With all the logistics in place, I set off. Coffee in hand, audiobook queued up, heading south out of Minot.
The one thing I probably should have checked was the weather.

Snow was blowing across the road and falling from overhead. At one point, the snow suddenly became a near white out. I ended up behind a sanding truck that was blowing so much snow I couldn’t see the road—or even the shoulder line. With no safe way to go around, we crept along at a snail’s pace for a mile or so until, just as quickly as it started, the conditions cleared again.

I will never fully understand North Dakota weather.

Eventually, I made it. I got my groceries. I met my friend for hot dogs. Then I wrestled my overloaded cart through parking lot slush, loaded the car, and turned around to do the long drive all over again.
And somewhere on the way back to Minot, I had a thought.

What am I doing? When did this become my version of “normal?”

Like a lot of people, I was thrilled when Costco opened in Bismarck. But somewhere along the way something about this whole routine started to feel a little…incongruous.

One of the things I love most about living in Minot is how close everything is. When I visit family out of state, I find myself complaining about their “long commutes.” Anything more than 20 minutes and I start getting impatient.

My kids have no idea that in many places, driving 30 minutes to get to an activity is completely normal. Living in the heart of Minot usually means we’re at our destination in 10 minutes or less.

And yet, here I am—perfectly comfortable planning a Costco run that requires nearly four hours of driving.
It’s funny how “normal” has a way of shifting.

It reminded me of when my husband was in pilot training at Enid Air Force Base in Oklahoma. At that point in my life, I had never even heard of Costco, and bulk shopping wasn’t a priority. My heart’s desire in those days was much simpler.

Target.

Enid is charming. I loved the small community, hidden gems, and glorious sunsets.

But I missed Target.

And so did my friends, who were also wives of pilots in training.

Regularly, we would plan “Target runs.” It was an event. We would carpool, pack snacks, make our lists, and drive 90 minutes to Oklahoma City just to bask in the fluorescent glow familiarity—stocking up on brands we trusted, and impulse buys we didn’t need but couldn’t seem to pass up.

At the time, that felt completely normal.

It was something we bonded over. A shared adventure. A story we could laugh about later.

I hadn’t thought about those Target runs in years, but my drive back from Costco brought the memory rushing back.

Sometimes the little inconveniences of life are also the things that create connection. They become the shared experiences that make a place feel familiar. The kind of stories that only make sense to people who’ve lived them.
There’s something comforting about that.

A day-long trip for a single errand might not always be normal. But right now, in this season of life, it is.
There’s a unique comfort in knowing there are plenty of others who understand exactly what I mean—and a quiet confidence in realizing we all have the ability to adapt and settle into a “new normal” when life calls us to.

For more on life in North Dakota join me online at amyallender.com or on your favorite social media platform @heyminot.