Transition

I'm snuggled in my bed right now listening to the hum of the humidifier and waiting for the heat in the living room to kick on so I don't freeze to death making a latte.

Life is good.  There is a mountain in my front yard, and snow on the ground.  I am living the crazy dream.  My crazy dream.  Its been a long time coming.  So much so that those who know me were getting quite tired of hearing about it.  But the wait only makes the payoff that much sweeter, as now I am truly appreciative for this opportunity, and so thankful for every wonderful snow-filled minute of this crazy adventure.

That is not to say that implementing this crazy dream was easy.  Transitions are hard, in triathlon and in life.  No matter how happy you are to be done with the swim, there is still a little time before you're totally dialed in on the bike.  So I'm working out the kinks.  I know with a little time I'll be sailing along on the freshly paved back country road of this new life, but first there were details to attend to.  Unpacking, getting a P.O. box, navigating new public transit, and finding the grocery store.  Things that used to be second nature.

And then the hardest part of any transition, leaving the comfort of friends who know you (and for me, family, too) with the hope that you'll make new connections.  This first week has been exciting, but also a little lonely.  No Tuesday night run group to meet up with.  No Wednesday night happy hours.  I know that in time these things will be replaced by new regular events, and the new people that go along with that, but for now there is still a noticeable void.  Though in the overall scheme of things, the drawbacks are utterly inconsequential.  Because being here.  Living the dream.  Waking up to sun on snowy peaks and neighbors biking to the gondola with skis resting on a shoulder just makes me smile.  And that warm-you-from-the-inside, can't-hold-it-back-if-you-wanted-to smile is worth every ounce of sacrifice.