Turning a page...again...

A farewell to Virginia Beach, for now.

Remember when you were a kid and there was something fun happening in two weeks? A trip to Disney World, say, or maybe a visit from from a beloved relative. Remember how the time between then and the big event seemed to stretch for EONS?

That’s what happening to me right now, but with a twist. That big event I’m waiting for…depending on the moment…I’m either super excited for it, or pretty darn sad for what it means. And since the brain rebels against living in such a heightened state of either emotion, I find myself in this odd place of…fog. Lacking motivation to do all that I should do to prepare…and lack of desire to actively say goodbye to what I’m leaving. And feeling like the weeks are each a year long.

I’m burying the lede here, which is that as of next weekend, I’ll no longer be a Virginia Beach resident. I’ll move a few counties north to live in the big city again…in Arlington, VA, which is just outside of DC.

On paper, everything about this move is right. I found a great condo/apartment. I’m 10 months into a fascinating and fun job, and I will be nearer my super smart and delightful coworkers, even if our offices are closed for renovations. I’ll be 10 minutes from a major airport. There are trails everywhere to explore. I have good friends up there who I know won’t take too long to remember that I’m nearby and will need some socializing. There’s full service recycling at my new place (I am strangely thrilled about this). And the food…and the art…and the parks…and did I mention the brilliant little backyard that I have just off my kitchen? No more taking Sadie down flights of stairs to do her evening business. Amazing. All of this is wonderful, and I’m really looking forward to it.

But getting there means leaving here, and I’m surprised by how sad it’s making me to say goodbye. I never intended to stay in Virginia Beach very long. I knew I would leave eventually, as would my nearby family. In fact, I thought it would have been sooner than now. But pandemics have a way of changing things.

I have to say a heartfelt THANK GOODNESS that I was here during the pandemic. I think often about if I’d been in Boston or DC and the pandemic hit…I think the loneliness and isolation might have done me in. Here, I had family and good friends to form a bubble with, and the blessing of the beach and nearby woods to wander when the walls of my apartment closed in. I couldn’t have known, but here was exactly the place I needed to be for this era of my life. I got to watch my niece and nephew grow over 3+ years, and become good friends with my brother and sister-in-law…what a gift that is.

Speaking of gifts, one of the harder things about leaving is the community I’ve found myself a part of. A bunch of wonderful people from all walks of life and all manner of “running” speeds, with whom I’ve logged hundreds of miles. They are a great bunch, these folks, who have cheerfully listened to me ramble on for hours about my dog and my hiking trips. They’ve even braved some trails with me occasionally, and have somehow convinced me to run a half marathon next month. I’m so grateful for these people, these friends, and so glad that we were able to somehow keep our running efforts going during these crazy years.

I’ve also been incredibly lucky to have a dear friend and her mom (who’s also become a dear friend), nearby to take care of my dog, take me out for Italian and Sichuan, lend me their recycling bin, and just generally be steadfast and generous people that I love and will miss very much.

I’ve never cared much about living at the beach (give me mountains!) but I think I will miss my wooden porch that just feels “beachy” when you walk in the door. And I might actually miss the beach itself. Not the hot and sticky and tourist-filled cesspool that is the summer, but the cool and windy days of winter and spring. The live oaks have become one of my favorite trees. I’ve been noticing the smell of the air more lately, especially as I think about leaving it.

I guess when you lay it all out like this, it’s not surprising that I’m sad to be leaving.

A long time ago, someone read my Tarot cards and told me I’m a “Collector.” I’ve never bothered to look up what that really means, but I took to it mean that I gather bits of things from wherever I’ve been and take them with me. I guess I have done that with people - never quite landing in one place and claiming those people as mine for eternity, but picking up some good souls along the way and adding them to my collection. I will have to do that with the folks I met here. And hopefully will see some of them in races yet to come, including the 13.1 miles coming next month…good grief…what I was thinking?

As usual, writing this all down releases a little of the fist that’s been clenching itself around my heart, and allows me to maybe, hopefully, let a little of the sadness go and a little of the excitement in. Now, if only it would also give me the motivation to pack up the cupboards and the closets.