Okay folks, remember that old church building I bought? Yeah, the one I’m turning into the community space. Well, this week, it was time to tackle the floors. Not gonna lie, I almost chickened out and hired someone after ripping up those nasty carpets. The concrete underneath? Total mess. Bumpy, cracks like spider webs, and about as level as a cheap carnival ride. Perfect.

So, Why Hardwood Anyway?

Heard some folks say “vinyl plank, dude, way easier!” Probably right. But here’s the thing – this place is gonna see kid workshops, yoga classes, maybe little coffee meetups. Needs to feel warm, solid, kinda timeless? Like, you step in and don’t feel like you’re in a doctor’s waiting room. Also, I found this oak flooring on a killer salvage deal – nice thick stuff that looks like it has stories. Yeah, I know, old building with uneven concrete… hardwood. Call me stubborn.

Groundwork Sucks, But Needed Doing

First, gotta make a flat(ish) stage. That meant:

• Whacking stuff: Used a big hammer and a masonry chisel to knock down the really high bumps. Dust city! Had a good mask on, trust me.
• Filling holes: All those cracks and low spots? Filled ’em with this cement patch stuff. Like thick peanut butter. Spent ages spreading it smooth.
• Leveling Screeds: Now the big guns. Mixed up self-leveling compound. Pour water, dump the powder, stir like crazy with the drill mixer until it’s like pancake batter. Poured it slowly over the low areas, watched it kinda flow out. Nervy! You gotta be fast, and pray it levels itself. Left it overnight to harden.

Result? Not glass-smooth, but way, way better than before. Good enough to work on, I figured.

Moisture? Yeah, That’s a Thing

Concrete sweats, especially in an old building near the ground. Glue wood straight to it? Bad news later. Popped down this thin plastic sheeting vapor barrier first. Rolled it out, overlapped the edges, taped ’em together. Felt like wrapping a giant, weird present.

Now for the Wood – The Main Event

Salvaged oak, tongue-and-groove, random lengths. Some pieces looked like ancient treasures; others looked like they’d seen a wood chipper. Sorting took ages.

• Laying the Start: Measured the room width, divided by the plank width. Needed the first and last rows to be decent sizes, so maybe offset the first row by half a plank? Math. Laid the first row groove-side facing the wall, used spacers to keep a gap (wood swells, needs breathing room). Glued each plank down along the tongue edge – messy, sticky job. Hammered each piece tight.
• The Grind: Rented this floor nailer. Big beast. Line up the plank on the tongue, whack the top of the nailer with a big rubber mallet – BANG! It fires a staple through the tongue, pinning it down. Repeat. Endlessly. On your knees. Your back starts screaming. The BANG-BANG echoes forever. Some pieces fought back – curvy ones needed pilot holes first, then face-nailed near the wall.
• Fit Problems: Walls aren’t straight. Like, not even close. Had to scribe planks, cutting weird angles with the jigsaw to fit snug against wonky walls. Messed up a few. Wasted some nice wood. Ouch.
• Around Stuff: Pipes popping up? Measure roughly, drill a hole bigger than the pipe in the plank. Slap a custom-cut wood ring around the pipe later to hide the gap. Doorways? Under-cut the door jambs using a handsaw so the planks slide underneath. Fiddly.

The last row? Pure terror. Had to rip planks lengthwise to fit the final gap, squeeze them in, glue the heck out of it. Spacers came out. Finally. Sweat, sawdust, swear words everywhere.

Making it Pretty (and Functional)

Raw wood gets wrecked fast, especially in a place people use. Sanding first. Rented a big drum sander – that thing is a monster! You stop moving, it digs a ditch. Had to go with the grain, progressively finer grits. Corners? Handheld sander. Then vacuuming. So much vacuuming. Every speck of dust.

Stain time? Almost went natural. But the wood had weird color patches. Chose a medium walnut stain to even it out and hide some imperfections. Wiped it on, wiped it off. Looked… darker. Gulp.

Finish? Three coats of super tough, water-based polyurethane. Important! Needs to handle foot traffic, chairs scraping, spilled coffee. Thin coats, light sanding with super fine sandpaper between coats. Tedious, but necessary. Smelled strong, had the doors wide open with fans blasting.

Seeing the Result

Once the haze cleared and the poly cured… honestly, breathtaking. Looks amazing. Rich wood color, feels solid underfoot, has that warmth I wanted. Yeah, it’s not perfect – some areas show the patchwork underneath a tiny bit, a few nail holes are visible if you look real close. But it feels real. Exactly what this old space needed.

Was it the smartest choice? Probably not. Easier ways exist. But this floor? It has guts. It feels alive. Seeing folks walk on it at the first little gathering we had… made every sore muscle and dust-filled lung worth it.