Like Lloyd and Harry, I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.  

I am a creature of habit. I say habit because I like to order the same sandwich at Subway every single time I eat there. I say creature, because, well, I’m 6′5″. Being a creature of habit has a lot to do with why I moved. I noticed that in my last two years or so in Phoenix, everything became a habit.

I grew comfortable, but I don’t say that in a good way, as in, this couch is really comfortable. Or as in, “She’s just so comfortable to be around.” I mean it in a way that I grew complacent and weary of change.

I became Bill Murray in Ground Hog Day. Every day I saw the same friends, woke up to the same sun, did the same things at work, and fell into predictable patterens that began killing my spirit. I became a zombie. Friends were boring me. Work was boring me. I was bored of being bored.

When I told one casual friend in Phoenix that I was leaving, he said, “You’re fucking crazy.”

I remember laughing on the way home from meeting him because picking up and moving to Sioux Falls was, in fact, one of the most sane things I have done.

I’m looking for a different kind of comfort - an uncomfortable one. I could have stayed in Phoenix. It certainly was easy living there. My house there is nice. The weather is ridiculously beautiful. The women are hot. And you know what? That’s great and all, but after awhile, I felt like all that was turning me into a big fucking pussy. Things were too easy. I wasn’t being challenged. Not by friends. Not by work. Not by much of anything.

Quite honestly, I didn’t feel like I was moving anywhere. I felt like I was on the set of some movie, and I couldn’t get off it.

Somtimes it’s the struggle that keeps us alive. Somes it’s fear and uncertainty that cause us to move forward. That’s certainly the case for me. The truth is, it would have been much easier staying in Phoenix plugging along with what I was doing, not needing to look up to see where I was going because I knew the road so well.

But easy was making me scream.

I rolled into Sioux Falls Monday evening after driving 22 hours in two days. I passed cornfield after cornfield, until I came to a stop in my friend’s driveway. He wasn’t home, so I got out, led my two dogs into his fenced-in grass-filled backyard, and chased them around and around for maybe 10, 15 minutes. I didn’t stop until I ran out of breath.

Then, I collapsed in the grass, rolling onto my back and putting Clementine on my stomach, holding her close. I took a deep breath that started at my feet and exhaled. When I did, I could see my breath in the cold.

The thought of snow made my eyes race with wonder. “This,” I said, as I looked around and held my hands to the air, as if I was grabbing South Dakota by its sides, “might be hard at times.”

Exactly.

I moved to one of the coldest places in the States. I accepted a job with an enormous amount of responsibility with which I’ve never been comfortable. I left the Horse Whisperer 1,600 miles away.

And yet, I’m so fucking happy. Happy that I will teach my son to skate. Happy that I took a professional risk that scares the shit out of me, happy that I’m dating the most amazing girl in the world - one who I hope will move here in June.

Ice Cube once said “Today was a good day.” True, but tomorrow will be even better.