Rachel: on a Monday in August after a kick ass TRX: HIIT class
Some of you may know the story of how we got to be in the house we have; if you have, I’m sorry, I am telling it again.
We love where we live. When Ratchet and I first started dating she was just closing on her first home, an adorable stucco number over in the Powderhorn neighborhood. It had 2 legal (and one perfect sized but less than legal) bedrooms, built-ins, a teeeeee-ney tiny kitchen and it was a perfect size home for a lovely single gal. She had been single for some time and was not going to wait around for Ms. Right to come along to buy a house. Then, along came Ms. Right. It was a really sweet house, but soon after we were together, we knew it wouldn’t hold us for long.
A few years later, happily in love and planning a wedding, we started to look for a new home. I wanted something bigger, something that we would be able to share with others. Maybe we’d adopt, or live communally. Either way, I’m a hospitality junky and needed more hosting space than our little home could offer us. After I had searched and found a few properties to look at in our price range we called our friend Marta the realtor, and put together a day of looking at potential houses. The day was booked, but we had a bit of time in the early afternoon with no pressing agenda. “I’ve been feeling really fat lately” I remember telling Ratchet. “Why don’t we use our spare time and head over to the YWCA and join.” Sure, why the hell not? Off we went and wouldn’t you know it, on the way, we drove past a house that captured our hearts and imaginations. It was green and white, the gem of the block. We took a flyer—gasped—and headed down the street to the Midtown Y.
That day we signed up at the Y and we put in an offer on the big dreamy green house.
Signing up at the Y was—in a way—the starting spark of this fire to get fit. We saw the house, saw its potential, and frankly ours, and said yes. And that happened over 7 years ago now. Some people might think, geez 7 years, what-the-fuck took you so long? When I started writing this post I think I felt that way too. But here is what I’d rather believe: some things, they take time. They take time and patience. Time, patience, the right fit—good lord a good fit is so important. I don’t know why this, all of it, finally clicked. I just know it did. Buying this house was the start of a dream. But it was just the start, we had a lot more fitness failures to live through before we got to where we are now.
That dream, the one about living in a big beautiful house and walking to the Y, being organized and happy in our work and looking great and being happily married—its finally coming true. Yep, we are living the dream, which means its probably time to dream some new dreams.
we won't sing 