Here’s The Real Reason Why I Moved To Denver (Hint: It’s Kinda Complicated)

I love the way life works sometimes.

It’s rarely a linear path. Rather, it’s more like chaos theory where a jumble of random nodes connect and create longer-term consequences, good or bad.

When people ask why I moved to Denver, I usually tell them I really really like Chiptole. But the truth has nothing to do with burritos (or weed). In reality, I moved to Denver for two random and unrelated reasons.

The first one brought me out to Denver in August.

August

Beginning in November 2013, I followed an awesome training program created by two strength coaches in Denver and saw great results. It completely transformed the way I thought about programming and adaptations (which made me realize my own ignorance) and I saw a few numbers go up. But there was one annoying thing holding me back:

My lower back.

My lower back sucked.

It limited me from realizing the full potential of the program because I had to skip exercises, take extra days off from the gym, and cut a few workouts short. Through their use of Postural Restoration Institute tactics, I felt a bit better, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough — I sent them videos of my technique and they gave awesome suggestions, but there’s only so much you can do remotely.

So I thought, you know what? Why don’t I just visit the gym in Denver? They have a highly intelligent staff and network of therapists who could probably get shit done.

Plus, I’ve never been.

So that was that. I booked at 10-day trip to the Mile High City, reserved a place at an Airbnb, and left on a Thursday.

It was so fucking hot driving through the Mojave with temperatures deep into the triple-digits (around 45 Celsius). I ate lunch at Primm, Nevada — where I used to stop all the time on my family vacations to Vegas — and spent my first night at Cedar City, Utah. Up until that point, however, I’ve never been east of Vegas or west of New Jersey. I welcomed the change and spent that night talking to friendly baristas and avoiding a summer rain shower.

The next day, I left around 10am and stopped for a late lunch at a random city called Grand Junction, Colorado. I liked the quant feel of the downtown area and I felt it was the perfect place to rent an upstairs apartment, leave the window open, and spend all day writing a novel. “Maybe I’ll come here again,” I thought. (This comes into play later.)

In Denver, I trained at the gym four times that week and booked some therapy with their Structural Integration Therapist who was leaving in a week to do a seminar with Thomas Meyers, author of Anatomy Trains.

I enjoyed the training, took dozens of pages of notes, and felt pain-free after some unique therapy.

But I enjoyed the city even more.

I loved that I could drive for 20 minutes and be at the outskirts of town. I loved that all four major sports teams were within three miles of each other. I loved Red Rocks. I even played Quidditch (which I later wrote about for AskMen).

If it wasn’t for my back, I would’ve never learned about Denver.

But there’s far more to this story than that.

*

The second reason brought me back to Denver in November.

My actual, original plan was to move to Montreal in March or April 2015 and study French for a few months. I even researched language schools, send emails, and searched on Craigslist to ballpark my living expenses.

But a random morning at Larimer Market in Downtown Denver changed everything.

During my trip in August, I walked into the cafe to grab a drink and I started chatting with an older gentleman behind me. He was super cool and I told him I was visiting from LA. “My wife’s from there too,” he said. “She’s sitting outside. If you’re not busy, you can join us.”

Truth be told, I was busy. But when you’re exploring life, work can always wait.

I joined them outside on that beautiful, sunny morning and we ended up talking for over an hour. They lived such a cool, adventurous life, visited so many places, and accomplished so many things. I could feel their energy and positivity and I admired every bit of it. Then I admitted that that I liked the city and wouldn’t even mind moving there someday.

“We’re going to be in Los Angeles in October to visit family. Why don’t we exchange information and you could join us for brunch when we’re in town?” they suggested.
“Absolutely.”

We chatted over email from August to October. She would send me some links about Denver news or cool apartments to browse or we’d chat about fitness and why I lived in Asia, quit finance, and wanted to leave LA in the first place. And even though I planned for Quebec, Denver kept coming back in my mind: I loved the city, I loved the vibe, I loved that I didn’t need a student visa, and — just as importantly — I loved the rental prices.

Maybe, I thought, I could move to Denver in March.

October

Then, October came. I met my new-found friends on a Sunday afternoon in Santa Monica as they had brunch with their family. I remember it being really hot that day. We ate, chatted, and had a great time.

“I want to tell you about an idea I have,” she said after lunch. “We’re going to New York for two weeks in mid-November and we need someone to look after our condo. I was thinking you could stay at our place during then and that would give you a chance to browse around for apartments without staying in a hotel or something. All you have to do is water the plants and make sure ice doesn’t build up on he windows.”

I don’t really believe in omens, but this was a fucking omen if I ever saw one.

It also left me less than one month to tie up all my loose ends, pack up my life, and drive to Colorado again.

Honestly, I didn’t think of going to Denver until Spring. I didn’t even know if I had enough money in the bank to make such a fast change.

But life isn’t about the “waiting for the perfect time to do things” — it’s about acting in spite of imperfections and making the best of each moment.

So I decided to go. I spent almost $700 to fix my car’s suspension, another few bills for the appropriate tires, and a few more bills on legit winter clothes. (Everything I had at the time wouldn’t last below 40 degrees.) Then, the day before I left, record-low temperatures pounded Colorado and poured snow on the city and mountains. (It was 80 degrees in LA.)

It’s also worth noting that the first time I went to Denver, I divided my drive into two days. But this time, I planned for three days. One, August has long days and a late sunset; mid-November, however, has far shorter daylight and an earlier sunset. Second, I really wanted to take my time through the snowy Rocky Mountains so I decided to spend an extra night in Western Colorado so I get some much-needed rest before trekking over the Continental Divide.

November

I ended up getting a motel in Grand Junction because of my first trip. That night, I sat at a bar to eat dinner and chatted with the woman who sat next to me.

“I’m staying at an Airbnb in Denver,” I said.
“Oh? My friend does that,” she said.

Turns out she knew my airbnb host. Seriously. In fact, she just had dinner at her place two evenings before and told me there would be some bomb-ass cheesecake. (There was.)

When I arrived (it was 19 degrees that afternoon), I didn’t even have a chance to go apartment hunting. As luck would have it, there was a furnished one-bedroom apartment for rent in the same building as my friends — with a pretty damn good view, too.

And that’s how I moved to Denver.

*

I often wonder: if I told myself in June that I would move to Denver by the end of the year, would I believe myself? Probably not. New York, maybe. Taiwan, perhaps. But things change fast in life. In six weeks, you could go from grasping onto the status quo to beginning a thrilling new life adventure.

Even in Denver, I’m still ready for whatever may come. I chose a six-month lease on my place because I’d rather pay a little more to have the freedom to move again if I change my mind. At some point, I’d still like to live in Montreal for an extended period of time, not to mention return to Taipei and check out Eastern Europe.

But you can’t be everywhere at once. I just have to take everything one step at a time, keep laying down dots in my life, and hope that — eventually — all of them will connect again.