Chris.Derecola

I’ve arrived at a time in my life where I’m ready to move on. I’ve always wanted to be “somewhere different” and dreamed of living overseas, but I’ve finally gotten to a point where I know exactly what I’m looking for and why where we currently live isn’t it. Yes, I am quite aware of my pronoun usage and you’ll be happy to know Melissa and I (more or less) agree on all these points – I just don’t like to speak for others.  Here’s what I know…

I want to live within walking and biking distance to much of the things I like to do. This means walking to our favorite restaurant, being closer to central social activities, riding to the market for produce or heading down to the corner cafe on a beautiful Sunday morning for coffee. This is possible in some planned suburban communities, but the location of our current neighborhood is not one of them. We (currently) can only walk to an Exxon and biking anywhere includes a fairly perilous batch of roads that pose a true safety concern. We’ve actually taken to racking our bikes to Ashburn-proper after work, just to have somewhere decent to ride. Lame.

I want to live in a place where the great outdoors is at our fingertips. Northern Virginia is actually a fairly decent place in this respect with the mountains to the west and beaches to the east. We don’t make a good use of them, but that is partially because you have to drive 2+ hours in both directions to get to the good stuff. To do any of these things, you’re talking about a seriously long day trip or looking for cheap ways to spend the night. I’d much rather be able to enjoy hiking, biking, waterways, parks, trees and nature in my own backyard or with a short car ride.

I want to live in an area with less traffic. I don’t like having to plan my life around certain times of the day and I am most certainly not into sitting at countless lights among a mass of cars every time I want to go somewhere. I don’t mind cars on the road per se, it’s being forced to deal with the sheer volume or getting stuck behind a wall of vehicles I can’t see around that doesn’t agree with me. A lot of this can be remedied by living closer to the places I want to be, but there’s just something about traffic in this area that really gets to me.

I want to live in a climate where I enjoy the weather more than four months of the year. It’s no secret I hate humidity and while it’s true I love the winter, I don’t feel this region makes good use of it. We get a solid level of cold but much like this past winter, we often suffer through it without the pleasantness that is snow. Give me real winters with legitimate winter activities, or give me an area that’s temperate all the time and within a reasonable distance to the mountains.

I want to live in a house with an interesting floor plan and an attention to detail. Don’t get me wrong, I love our house and the home we’ve made out of it. I do, however, find myself drawn to really old places that were gutted and rebuilt or trendy (gasp!) open condos with multi-use rooms. I’ve really gotten into shows like House Hunters & House Hunters International (especially) and after seeing many of the featured places, I’ve realized a big house in the ‘burbs ain’t for me. I’d rather have less space that is highly functional instead of several rooms we heat/cool and never use. Honestly, I’d rather spend time outside enjoying people, places and things than holed up in my house. I’m pretty sure France is to blame.

(Note: I typo’d 3 of 5 paragraphs above as “I want to love…” before catching it. I suspect it was not fortuitous.)

I can hear you asking the questions now.

First, I think there was a confluence of events that led to us living in the suburbs so far from all the things we like doing. After getting married, buying a house just seemed like a natural progression. Unfortunately, we couldn’t afford anything closer than Leesburg, which led to jobs in Loudoun County, which led to another house in Loudoun County. Combine this with a Chris in his 20s who was unhappy and didn’t want to do stuff; you get the perfect recipe for a homebody. Now that I’m more accepting of who I am and know what I like, I feel as though my house should be less of an excuse to keep me busy. Before, I did what I thought was expected because I had no idea what I wanted. Now, I know I want.

Second, a lot of people raise kids in smaller houses located in more urban areas. No, I’m not saying we’re going to have kids. I am saying that it would be silly to discuss our future living situation and not at least consider the possibility that we’d be raising a family at some point. I think the suburbs are the right fit for a lot of families, and we might end up there eventually should we have one, but I don’t think it’s an automatic. For the time being, and at least the first five years of any yet-to-be-planned-kid’s lives, I want my family to be city dwellers.

So what does this all mean? Absolutely nothing… until Melissa finishes grad school.

I am a food addict.

I knew this before, but it wasn’t until the last few months that it started to sink in just how much I struggle with it every single day. Like all addicts, my addiction is something that rules my thoughts and many of my behaviors. I constantly focus on what I’m eating, whether it be concentrating on eating healthy or feeling guilty for loving a good (and probably unhealthy) meal. Some obsess over shopping, exercise, drugs, gambling or Facebook… and I am no different with food.

Most people like food so big deal, right? For me, it kinda is. My relationship with food is more than mere sustenance in that it has been one of emotional comfort and survival for the last 25 years. When I was a kid, I was completely and utterly miserable. My parents were divorced and as a latchkey kid with few friends, I spent many afternoons raiding a well stocked fridge to make myself feel better. That feeling of being full, being content, became hardwired in my brain to equate with happiness. The fuller I was, the less it hurt that girls did not like me. The fuller I was, the less I thought about the reasons why my dad didn’t want to live with us any more. The fuller I was, the happier I was.

I am old enough now to realize the fallacy in this logic. I am confident enough now that I do not have to depend on food to make me feel good. Unfortunately, old habits die hard and no matter how badly I want to move on, I’m not sure I will ever be able to entirely. Addicts never lose their addictions, they just beat them. The fact that I have to eat to survive, and can’t just swear off it, makes mine that much harder (I think). Is this an excuse to be overweight? Absolutely not… but hopefully it provides some context.

I have made many changes in my life to address this issue.

• We do not keep junk food or sugary drinks in the house.
• I do not drink alcoholic beverages during the week.
• I exercise regularly.
• I cook relatively healthy; lean meats, vegetables, no prepared food.
• Weekday breakfast and lunch are 850 calories combined.
• If I snack, it’s on dried fruit or unroasted nuts.
• I rarely eat sweets, including dessert.

The truth is, there are still quite a few things I do because I “don’t want it bad enough.”

• I eat out 2-3 times a week (whether it be lunch or dinner).
• I eat a relatively large dinner, especially compared to Melissa.
• I refuse to give up pasta and generally speaking, eat way too many carbs.
• When I drink alcohol, I drink alcohol.
• I sometimes eat what I want versus what I should (e.g. total pigfest this past weekend).

So yes, I’ve come a long way… but I also have a long way to go. If I could change one thing about me, it would in all likelihood be my relationship with food. I can’t, so I have no other option than to try and make incremental choices that lead me to a more healthy weight. There are far worse problems to have, but this one is mine.

Last week, I finally got back on my bicycle and started riding again. It was the first time in months and the first time I planned to do more than 12 miles since right after I bought it. I’d been meaning to check out a few things at my local Spokes Etc and since I always do better when I have an actual target, figured I could ride there and back one evening after work. I loaded up on the various things I thought I needed and set off on my way. Unfortunately, I was far more ill-prepared than I realized.

About three miles into my ride, upon realizing things didn’t feel right, I looked down to find my rear tire was flat. I pulled off onto the side of the road, hopped off the bike and took a minute to gather my thoughts. I hadn’t had a flat since running over glass at the age of 10 (and it hadn’t occurred to me they were something that actually happened) so I had no spares to address the issue. With Melissa in class, I was left with three less-than-favorable choices. I could walk the three miles home, walk the four miles to the bike shop or stick my thumb out in hopes someone would give me a lift. Without even really thinking about it, I set off walking in the direction of the bike shop.

Just two minutes into my walk, a random man in an SUV pulled up next to me and asked if I needed a ride somewhere. After an enthusiastic “Yes!” on my part, I was loading my bike into the back of his vehicle. As we sat in traffic, I took the opportunity to thank him and explain I had zero expectations of someone stopping… let alone doing so voluntarily. His response was one that took me by surprise and is the true catalyst of this post.

“I’ve been trying to get up the courage to hit the (W&OD) Trial for awhile. I saw you pass me farther back and when you did, I thought ‘now here’s a guy who’s getting out there and trying it.’ If he’s doing it, I can too. When I saw you walking your bike, I figured something was wrong so I decided to stop.”

So, as a middle-aged, slightly overweight guy who didn’t quite have the motivation to get over the hump, he saw me as inspiration. That, in part, fueled him to stop and help at time when I thought no one would be bothered to do so. I was convinced he was making a selfless sacrifice to help a stranger, not realizing I’d already unknowingly helped him. He wanted to reinforce my healthy behavior and even if it didn’t directly motivate him, perhaps someone else would do the same when he finally got out there.

The profundity of it is just how oblivious I was to my impact on others around me. I tend to think I’m fairly unremarkable and unnoticed in public situations, but this experience has proven that very untrue. Consider this in your day to day life. Even when you think no one is paying attention and you’re only doing something for yourself, you may in fact be helping others. Positive thinking and healthy behavior are contagious and if nothing else, use that as continued motivation to help yourself.