Posted by: Travis | June 22, 2011

Just Weird

I thought about calling this blog post ‘In Purgatory’, but then decided against it. I wanted to hit at the ‘neither here nor there-ness’ of purgatory, but it has such an overwhelmingly negative connotation in our culture that it would totally distract from what i was getting at. I could have thought of something else, but nothing came to me, so we’re aiming low.

Everything is just so weird right now. Nothing feels comfortable. Rachel and i are sitting somewhere between the past and the future in limbo and it just feels funny.

I woke up this morning planning to go on my first bike ride since the crash on Saturday. The Stahl ride is a group ride that happens out of Los Altos on Wednesdays. It’s a ride for local pros and people with flexible work schedules, designed to be a long, mid week, endurance ride. I’ve been on a few, and they’re great. Today the Stahl ride was planning on riding some roads i’ve been wanting to ride, but haven’t had a chance to yet, so i figured it would be a great way to climb back on my horse and get back on the bike on my day off.

Then i peeled the bedsheet from the huge contusion on my hip, yelped as i rolled on said contusion on my way out of bed, and struggled to stand up on my stiff right leg. Yeah, maybe a 4-5 hour group ride was a little ambitious. Instead i did a little 2 hour loop by myself. Getting back on the bike after more than just a day off always feels a little funny for the first few minutes. Getting back on after a crash feels even more funny. This is the first crash i’ve had in about 6 years so i guess i was due.

When i broke my collar bone back in 2005, it took me years before i could comfortably ride close to someone’s rear wheel without having a minor panic attack. Hopefully hairpin turns won’t be an issue for me for the next few years. I hit 45mph coming down Edgewood this morning without it causing me any angst, so hopefully that’s a good sign.

The bruising has gotten pretty wild. From just above the knee up to around my waist my road rash is surrounded by a wild pallet of colors: yellows, pinks, purples, blues, reds, and oranges, like some sunset picture from a tropical vacation.

Outside of cycling, things are weird too. Rachel’s last day at her office is tomorrow and my last day at the shop is Friday. Her office took her out to a goodbye lunch and the guys at the shop are doing a going away BBQ for us tomorrow night after the shop closes. I understand that it’s the way of the world that you can’t go to a new place without leaving an old one, but being sad about leaving friends and family behind, while simultaneously being excited to arrive in the new place with different friends and family, ready to start on life’s new adventures is just so odd. When we moved out here in 2007, most of our friends were graduating from college and scattering all over the country. This time around there’s no event that acts as a match lighting a barrel of gun powder, sending (uninjured, of course) people everywhere. Instead, it’s just us moving. We’re the center of attention, and i hate being the center of attention.

We started packing up our stuff to move at the beginning of May and may not be moved into our new garage apartment (being renovated) until the beginning of August.I’m not complaining. I guess i would rather it be like this than super compressed and highly stressful, but we’re in this prolonged period where there are about to be some big changes in our lives (moving to a new place, law school, getting married…) that we know are coming, but just haven’t happened yet.

We’re coming to the realization that we didn’t quite do everything we wanted to do in California. Roads we wanted to ride, places we wanted to eat, backpacking trips we wanted to do. Every time we do something, the notion hangs over our heads that it might just be the last time we do that in California.

Thomas Keller, the famed chef at the French Laundry has said that the thing he tries to create in the perfect meal, is the wanting at the end of each course for  just one more bite. Perhaps that’s what we’ve (accidentally) achieved.

It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just that this long transition period has made things very interesting.

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