Broken dreams

We're moving to Spokane. At the end of June. Did you know that already? John got a position at a really awesome partnership, and the job starts July 1st. Having lived there for a year for John's internship before residency, we know that city and feel quite at home there, so we're pretty excited. (Not thrilled about leaving our friends and family here, though.) I know which schools are my top choices for the kids, and we've got a few neighborhoods where we'd prefer to live.

Actually, we flew to Spokane in October for the interview and they set us up with a realtor to show us around. We specifically asked her to show us a house we were dying to see. It's on this road:

This is the mailbox belonging to the house next door:

This is down the road less than 1/4 mile and across the street:

And this is what you see when you walk further down the road on the trail we walked/ran over and over when we lived there. (You know? The one I've blogged about over and over, and over and over. Until you're sick of hearing it. That one.)

We weren't sure what to expect when we looked at the house, but I fell in love instantly. Open floor plan, lots of windows and very bright, ranch style so the kitchen and family room walk straight out to the back yard, tons of yard for the kids to play in, fully fenced.....you get the idea. It was my dream home. John liked it too. And once he excepted the job offer, I helped him to fall in love, too. We came up with a plan to build a pool/guest house, and I moved in mentally. I practically have the pictures hung and the clothes put away in the closets. We offered on the home in December, on the advice of our realtor, just hoping to secure it even though we can't close until May 1st at the earliest. Not surprisingly, that was too far off for the seller and they declined our offer. So we've watched the house daily and kept our fingers crossed that it would stay on the market.

And it did! Until yesterday. The new buyers closed on the home yesterday. Someone bought my house. My dream house. I'm shattered.

But I knew there was a good chance this would happen. I knew it was dumb to allow myself to fall so head-over-heels in love. I realized that I might end up right where I am. :(

I'm OK. I'm trying to see it as an opportunity. Now I get to go house shopping. Not that I haven't looked at every single home for sale in Spokane on the internet a million times already. Every.Single.One. But who knows what will come on the market before we move? And there are some other good possibilities. We'll end up in a lovely home and we'll be happy. I just know it.

But I can't say that I won't drive by that house when we get there and think about what might have been...

I think I can, I think I can.....

In high school I played field hockey. We usually ran a few miles before practice, then spent the hours of practice running drills. I played right wing, which meant I spent every game sprinting up and down the side of the field. I was in good shape. Like we all were in high school, right?

After high school, I headed down to BYU, where I lived in the dorms. My roommate was one of my best friends, and we quickly made friends with girls on our floor. We'd all go to the BYU track and run together. We were worried about the "freshman 15." (And for good reason. I definitely gained those 15 pounds in the first year!)

Sometime since then, I decided that I'm not a runner. Partially because I always hated running. And partially, I think, because my husband is a runner. He runs really far, really fast, and who can keep up with that? I started having babies, and walking with the stroller. When we moved to Spokane for a year, I became a hard-core walker, even walking the famous Bloomsday race with the double stroller. I was officially a walker, and swore that I'd never run again.

When we moved back to SL, I tried to keep up the walking. But it was hard. I'd have to drive to get to a decent trail, and my neighborhood is mostly flat streets and really ugly houses. (Really!) Not so fun when I was used to this. I had a few more kids, and pretty much stopped exercising. And for some reason (cue sarcastic voice) I gained more weight than I ever imagined I would. Luckily, I have an awesome friend who's a devoted runner, and who runs Ragnar every year and loves it. Her enthusiasm and repeated attempts to get me to join her team, along with my desperation to get back in shape, convinced me to sign up for her team for the upcoming race in June. Darn you, Becky!

I mapped out 2 different routes that both, coincidentally, came out to 1.3 miles. The first time I ran, my only goal was to do it without stopping. And I did! I was shocked that I could do it, and so excited! That was a few months ago. I've been trying to run or workout on our elliptical machine 2 or 3 times a week since then. I haven't been terribly successful, but I'm trying. This month, I finally dared to try two laps of my route, and I was once again amazed that I could do it without stopping. So my new distance is 2.6 miles, and I'm not going back.

As I ran yesterday, I felt the same disdain for running that I always have. I get so nervous when I'm running, like I felt when I ran track in junior high. I would love to stop at any second and just be done. I can't catch my breath, I feel like it's hard just to pick my feet up for each step. But in my old age and maturity, I'm learning to see running differently. For one thing, I need it. I need to retrain my body to move and be strong. And I'm grateful that I can do it - that I don't have injuries or illness that keep me from being mobile. Most importantly, I see it as a test of will. It's completely mind over body, and I feel like a stronger person for every mile that I push my body to run without giving up. That's the strength that I really need - to know that I can do whatever I put my mind to.

So I now declare myself a runner. I have a lot of learning and growing to do, and I may never say that I love running. But I love the feeling I had when I finished another 2.6-mile run yesterday.  I can do this!