On July 5th of last year, I had just gotten done spending a long night in the hospital. I got a phone call from our shift rookie during my birthday celebration the night before. During the first of his phone calls, he told me that our coworker Todd was headed to L+M. After 4 months of blood transfusions, chemo, and other treatments, I figured it was just something routine. I shot him (Todd) a text hoping for one of his usual synical responses that would assure me that he was okay and it was just more of the typical cancer bullshit. About an hour later, I had received no response. When our rookie called the second time, I knew something was up.The words that stood out: "They're calling for a priest..." Just recollecting on that moment envokes the same emotions I was feeling at that moment.
Naturally, I headed directly to the hospital. Had it not been for the boys from NLFD and a few of my coworkers, I'm sure that there would have been some large volumes of property damage. My Irish/Frog temper typically prevails at moments like this. After some consolation from the guys, I was able to compose myself long enough to see Todd and have one last moderately normal conversation with him. For the next 3 days, his family, friends, coworkers, and I spent a large volume of time at his bed side hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. He passed the morning of July 7th, 2010. The next 2 weeks of wakes, services, and carrying my brother to his final resting place were the hardest days of my life.
So why am I sharing all of this with you? The morning after Todd's illness, I walked into the nearest CrossFit and advised the owner of what was going on. My intensity levels would be proportional to the the emotions I was feeling. I don't even remember the WOD. What I do remember is being able to see my heart through my chest and the puddle of sweat and chaulk surrounding the bar. I couldn't remember if I was crying during the workout or sweating out of my eye balls.
This week, several of our Navy Corpsman accepted my invitation to write their fallen brothers' names on the bay door. I felt extremely fortunate to have them do this. Just a simple action like that is enough to take a guy like me to the dark side. I'd like everyone to search for a similiar subject of emotion. Think about what you've been through in your life and find something that produces emotion. I'm not talking about picturing the face of someone you don't like. I'm talking about something that raises your heart rate and makes you shake. Think about a lost loved one, your children, whoever. When doing so, think about what they would do for one more moment, one more breath, one more day... Imagine someone threatening the life of someone close to you, someone you love. What would you do to save them? What would you do to save yourself? Where in your mind are you willing to go? Where in the realm of physical are you willing to go? Reaching those levels in the gym will allow you to better react and manage yourself if that time ever comes. It's all about making you comfortable with the uncomfortable. Training for the unthinkable, the unimaginable. See you in the box...
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