Overdoing It

We are tired.

Both of us just tanked yesterday.

We tried for another bike ride, this time on beach road around the point, up through the beautiful homes in Oak Bay, none of which our agent showed us because, well, $1 million wasn’t really in our price range, with intention of tooling around U. Vic. and checking it out.

I wrote in the morning, David read. We went to an early lunch and met with our realtor to sign the final papers and headed for our ride, hoping our stiff and creaky muscles would loosen up.

They did, but somewhere around the Victoria golf course, we realized we had nothing left. I found us a reasonably direct route back to town (thanks to Debra’s terrific real estate maps!) and we turned in the bikes. Then vegged. Ordered food in.

This morning, I still feel wrung out.
A year ago, almost exactly, we were here checking out schools; we rented bikes and rode over to Langford. That was only about 10 miles round trip, compared to the 17 miles we biked up to Sidney on Thursday. I barely made it. So, it was nice to be in good enough condition to do this — a year of working out paid off and I’m finally in decent physical condition again. I felt good when we got back from the ride.
But yesterday… yesterday I was tired.
It’s not just the ride either. Somehow this whole effort still feels huge. Committing to the house here; waiting to sell our beloved Laramie house. Planning out things like how to transfer money and whether USAA will give us homeowners insurance here. The Canadians won’t gurantee that when we show up with our animal family and the moving van full of stuff that they’ll let us in. This is apparently the official posture. No certainty unless you’re a citizen.
Sometimes it all feels daunting.
I’ve moved before. And to places where I knew no one. I want to be here; I love our new house. Why does it feel like such a major effort?
I even feel a little weepy.
However, The Bay store over past the harbour is having a major designer shoe sale. And the sun is bright and warm. I’m talking to the agent Tuesday morning.
Maybe I’ll have some ice cream, too.

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