Well, we woke up to more snow this morning.
I watch the weather. I knew it was coming. But, honestly, I’m sick for those sunshiney mid-60s days where the sun dances into the sky at 6 a.m. and doesn’t set for the night until after 7 p.m. My legs are antsy. My skin is a sickly shade of white. My heart aches a little thinking about how I rode all year long in Tampa. How, after an early 5 a.m. group ride around Davis Islands, I’d roll up to my neighborhood Starbucks soaked in sweat and order my usual: a grande iced coffee with a splash of soy milk. Sometimes they’d have it ready before I walked through the door. I’d suck it down like water and cruise home with a refill tucked into my bottle cage. I’d park my bike next to my front door, collapse onto my front steps and sip that sweet sweet caffeine while I uploaded my Garmin data to Strava. I can feel the humidity just sitting here staring at Colorado’s snow-covered mountains. More often that not, I find myself wishing for those days again.
I think I felt like this last year, too. I definitely did. We had two particularly cold and snowy weekends in a row where I felt trapped inside. All I wanted to do was throw on bib shorts and short sleeves and suffer up some hills for a few hours, and I questioned whether or not moving to Colorado was the right decision.
I feel that now.
But like this winter season, and like that winter season, it will pass. The sun will come out, stay out, and warm up the earth. It will melt the snow and the ice for good.
It’s just a season, like all seasons.
Speaking of. My season with Rapha is coming to an end, too. After almost a year and a half with one of the best companies I’ve ever worked for, I’m moving on to Copywriter role at an advertising agency near Denver.
“Are you excited?!” everyone asks when I break the news.
At first, yes. When the HR director called and offered me a job, I was very excited, because it just feels good to be chosen for something. After more than a year of job searching and applying, it feels good to be picked over everyone else, told you were the best candidate, offered more than double your current salary, given a brand new computer, trusted with million-dollar responsibilities. It all feels good. But it breaks my heart to leave a community that helped me get my feet back on the ground, a community that mended fissures in my heart, and made me feel like this Colorado thing was actually going to work out.
Change is difficult for everyone, I suppose, for one reason or another. But if we don’t change paths occasionally, and to ones we can’t quite see the end of, maybe we’d never figure out where we want to go—and then never get there.
The snow is still falling here, and it’s forecasted to for the next day or so. But just as I put a period on that last sentence, the sun came and the world brightened up just for a second. That feels good, just knowing it’s still there.
These are our seasons. Snowy ones, sunny ones, sometimes bone-chilling ones, and we move and grow through each of them.
Which season are you in?