Chris and I are preparing for a remodel of our house, with construction starting in a few months, we hope. This has been a project in the planning stages for oh, say, the last 6 years. For anyone who has spent any amount of time on a long bike ride with us, you surely have heard updates of this plan. And you will have to hear about it likely for another 6-8 months. But then it will be done, and you will all be invited over to a big party! But until then, let's continue on with this beating-a-dead-horse topic.
So, we are going to have to move out of our house for the duration of the construction. We have very luckily a place to stay in Rockridge, so will be up and moving parts of our life to Oakland in a few months time. It's been quite the rubics cube of puzzles planning this all. Some things are getting sold, somethings donated, others moving to Rockridge with us, others into storage. While I don't mind the planning the logistics of it all, I am little uneasy about the upcoming upheavals in my life. I'm actually pretty good about traveling and going with the flow in the short term, but my home has always been the place where I find stability and sanity. So picking up and dispersing my life all over the Bay Area feels daunting.
Recently, we had a conversation with our next door neighbor, who has owned his house here since the 70's. He told us that the reason our house and others on our street have such steep staircases and high garages is because our house used to be located several streets down the hill. During the construction of the 280 freeway nearby, our house was relocated up to it's current location. I immediately began to do some internet sleuthing to see if I could verify his story. While I have not found any actual proof that this applies to our house, I did find references to many houses between the 1930's to the 1950's getting moved in our neighborhood. Given our house was built in 1940 per historical records, most likely it would have been moved due to the expansion of San Jose Ave, rather than 280. But the moving part could be true. In any case, the fact that you can up and move an entire house is fascinating to me. Here's a historical photos of a house that was moved in the 50's I believe.
and here's one from the horse and buggy days.
And here's a Facebook page of an upcoming book about the very topic, San Francisco Relocated.
[Side note: Dive bar Clooney's in the Mission may also have been moved to it's current location.]
[Side note: Dive bar Clooney's in the Mission may also have been moved to it's current location.]
Ok, sorry to take you down my internet searching rabbit hole, but it is really fascinating, isn't it? I mean, the idea of just taking your entire house with you and putting it in a new landscape is pretty amazing. Same house, different views and different neighborhood.
But then I started thinking if we could just move our house to Oakland with us, it wouldn't really be the same home. For me, the part of the home being the center of your life is not just about the physical building, but about the people and community that you live in. It's your friendly next door neighbors who share a beer from their cooler on a Friday evening. Or the owner of your neighborhood grocery store who knows what kind of cheese you like. Or the hairdresser that knows the ins and outs of not just your hair but your personal life. Or the series of mini parks and the Glen Canyon that I run through on my neighborhood runs.
So all of this really does take us back to cycling, I promise. I've taken a few years off from Team in Training, and was recently wondering if I would enjoy it as much as I have in the past. I had looked at the roster of people on the team, most of them were new to me. And I looked at the ride locations for the season, many of which were far away and new to me. I also have a new-to-me bike that I have not ridden any long distances on, and I started to get concerned that I would need new gears or new adjustments on it. Given all the changing landscapes of my upcoming life, I actually was a little concerned about adding in more newness to my life.
But this Saturday, I joined the team for my first ride of the season. There were so many familiar and friendly faces -- previous coaches, teammates, honored teammates that I have spent many an hour with on my bike. These are people who I may not see very often, but are ones that always welcome me with open arms. We rode a classic Bay Area ride (Paradise Loop) on what was apparently the perfect San Francisco day (75 and sunny!)
We dedicated the ride to an amazing man, AJ Jabanero, who lost his battle to liver cancer this past week. He joined Team in Training several years ago when his two year old daughter, Izzy, was diagnosed with Leukemia. He and his family spent endless time and energy supporting Team in Training. Izzy is now in remission and a healthy litte girl. Sadly, AJ is no longer with us. But his spirit and energy lives on.
So all of this -- the joy and the sadness -- all of this was a little bit like coming home. The community, the support, the cycling, and the fun. It was a reminder for me that this is why I keep doing this Team in Training thing. It doesn't matter what else is going on in my life, where my home is moving to. If I can hop on my bike and support some people along the way, then I will enjoy the shifting landscapes and enjoy the ride.
And by the way, if you want to join me on the ride and help change the landscape of blood cancers, please make a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Any amount is much appreciated!
