Since my last InnerVoice, I married my love, Ted King, moved across the country to Vermont (a state of only 600k people), decided to leave my job and figured after all of that, why not buy a house on 10 acres with a pond and two barns? In my previous post, I must’ve been unknowingly foretelling myself advice for the future as I wrote about being someone who seeks to pursue growth and avoid stagnancy.
It would be hard to convey how terrifying each of those decisions was, and how long it took me to make some of them—well, not the marrying Ted part, but each decision led to so many pleasant surprises. If I had some advice for my Type-A self, it would’ve been to stop worrying about what ‘could happen’. Though it may still look like we live our lives at full gas all the time, we’ve embraced the Vermont pace and appreciate the beauty in slowing down. We experienced new friends drop everything and bring their entire family to help us move in, and neighbors who brought housewarming gifts. Those are the elements that have made Vermont feel like home very quickly and also had us taking notes about the type of friends we wish to be. Learning to slow down in this world where we are pushing and pushing for achievement has been a meaningful takeaway for me.
In terms of the bike, I fought the demons of a DNF at the Belgian Waffle Ride in 2017 to come back in 2018 and take 2nd place. Ted also took home 2nd place, and his face as I came across the finish line was one of my most favorite moments. The best feeling is having someone to share your joys and triumphs with, right along with the tough days too. One week later, we flew to Vermont to race Rasputitsa and also to scope the neighborhoods for where we wanted to settle come June. We arrived from San Diego’s 85-degree sweltering heat to a late April snowstorm. Walking down the street, Ted turned to look at me and tears were running down my face. The landscape was still barren and dead from winter, the colors grey, the air cold and I had feelings of panic that we had made a terrible decision to leave the temperate climate of California.
This is what misery looks like, I thought.
What a difference a few days can make. The sun came out, we experienced the community of New Englanders and their strong fitness despite a long winter. I laughed my way through the race’s icy roads, took a maple syrup shot, pushed my bike up the snowy Cyberia segment and crossed the finish running in the snow with my bike.
It was a blast, and maybe, just maybe, this new place wasn’t going to be so bad after all...