Show Up and Save a Life – Starting with Yours (Guest Speaker: Matt Garrepy)

This week we have a special Guest taking over the blog, Matt Garrepy.  Matt has been showing up to our tribe since the very beginning when we were pledging with just a handful of dedicated tribe members.  He is also our latest positivity award winner and our entire tribe can agree that Matt has a very strong, kind, and welcoming presence.  We couldn’t be more thrilled to have him share his heartfelt and motivating story on why he shows up and challenges himself every week – take it away Matt!

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Greetings, intrepid reader… and welcome to my guest blog for November Project Orlando! Strap yourself in and prepare for anything. And if you know me, that’s pretty much the status quo.

Let me start off by saying: you are my hero.

That’s right. YOU.

All of you. You make my heart soar. Literally.

Because it’s you that shows up. It’s you that makes it all happen at 6:29 AM.

Yup. You’re my hero. Why?

Well, I’ve thought a lot about that. There are seemingly endless reasons.

Maybe it’s your brilliant smile in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, warming the hollow darkness before dawn. Or maybe your humid hugs, making the dog days a little more tolerable as we gather for our pre-bounce trek ‘round the shores of Lake Baldwin.

It could be your constant companionship of footfalls echoing against the pavement, twilight eyes and starry skies bathed in moon shadow as we cross these distances together.

You are my inspiration. My heartbeat. My hero. My tribe.

And you, without a doubt, are saving my life.

If you’re here, reading this, giving it a few precious moments of your own crazy, frantic, all-consuming schedule, you might already be a fellow member from the ranks of November Project Orlando (or parts beyond). If not, that’s OK, too – because we’re all in this together. And by this, I mean life. Life in a chaotic world, where everything seems increasingly unstable, and the odds are stacked against us.

For those who already know me, you might be expecting a plethora of “dad humor” to punctuate my guest blogging responsibilities. Ordinarily, you’d be spot on. As an early 40-something father of a 13.5 year old man-in-training (I mean seriously, he’s got hair growing all over the place… what the hell?), it’s in my official job description to be a subversively comedic entertainer. Most of my tribe is familiar with this proclivity towards the “embarrassing” – but I make no apologies if my audience is laughing. The good news is, I’ve got fellow compatriots who help bolster this behavior (I’m talking to you, Dave Camous).

 

But right now, I’d like to check the funny – at least a bit – and tell you a story about a boy.

A boy who dreamed he was an athlete. A boy who wished he could run like the wind.

Trouble is, he wasn’t born that way.

In fact, he had trouble breathing right from the get go.

His first shoes were corrective. There’s a photo of him at 16 months old, lost in a shoebox at the back of a musty closet, his feet ensnared in what can only be described as a medieval torture device.

He didn’t have an innate sense of agility or balance. When he started playing soccer, there were more “left feet” than right, and he struggled to find his place on the field.

What made it worse was that his brother was blessed with these gifts – right from the womb. Not just a love for all things sports, but an absolute mastery of every athletic discipline he touched. It was a constant reminder of the boy’s struggle, and it created a gulf in their relationship.

But none of this stopped him from trying. And that’s the funny thing about dreams: when you want them badly enough, they have a way of coming true.

For the boy, it was his father that first challenged him to “just show up.” He instilled in him a sense of balance and direction. He pushed him to find his power, his will, his North Star.

And he gave him the gift of running.

The boy kept showing up. And in time, he was able to do more than he ever dreamed possible. He became a basketball player in high school. He competed in track and field. He climbed most of the 4000+ foot peaks in New Hampshire. But it was so much more than athletics and sports that opened up – it was everything. Showing up made college a reality, helping him score a full scholarship. Showing up helped him compete on an NAIA cross country team, running against other athletes across the Southeast. Showing up gave him the tools he needed to build businesses and become a successful entrepreneur. Showing up made it all possible.

If you haven’t guessed by now, this is my story.

And the truth is, showing up not only helped me live – it saved my life.

Because this journey hasn’t always been easy. Or happy. There have been roadbumps and flat tires, broken hearts and fallen empires. Lost loved ones and significant setbacks. We’ve all been through these dark moments, when the world caves in and the light struggles to find the cracks in the walls. Like when your dad tells you he has cancer, or your job is killing your soul.

In these times, running saved my life.

Showing up helped me clear the cave and let in the light.

And running built connections. It created camaraderie. It tapped the tribal instinct to be surrounded by like-minded, inclusive people who understand the value of a team. And I guess that’s the lesson, right? Running moves us forward – but we can’t always get there alone. We need a pack to back us up, to help us stay on the path and map the latitudes and longitudes of our hearts.

Running may seem like a solitary sport, but my best experiences have always been shared ones – like running the Key West Half Marathon with my friends, or competing with someone I’d never met during a Disney 5K, pushing each other along the way to place at the top. (Footnote: he beat me… but only by a few seconds. Third place ain’t bad; we ended sharing a beer later, and that was worth every grinding step).

To me, November Project encompasses all of this and more. It’s community. It’s accountability. It’s about getting uncomfortable and pushing yourself, knowing that you’re not alone on the journey. It’s about crossing the long miles together, with people who get it and get YOU. Our dedicated leadership (Allison and Travis) put their whole hearts into this endeavor, and our sweaty group of stars is their single greatest PR – and a testament to the power of people in this race called life.

Here’s the absolute coolest part of this experiment: when you have such a dedicated pod (as we do in Orlando), everyone matters. You notice when people aren’t there. You show up to help them move when they need a hand. You hang out to celebrate birthdays and special events. You meet people from Germany, and you realize that oceans are small when it comes to big friendships. And heck… people even show up to support your rock ‘n roll band, even if you’re playing for middle-aged people (although it probably helps that there’s beer involved).

You matter. Everyone matters.

 

So here’s my hope for you, intrepid reader: just show up. Because showing up can save a life – starting with yours. It can unlock what’s stuck. It can heal you, physically and emotionally. It can elevate your spirit. And it can even help you take action on the impossible… like selling your business and taking a scary new position as a CEO for a software company. Trust me on that last one; without my weekly family outing at NPORL, I’m not sure I could have survived such a huge life transition.

And if you’re out there, moving in the dark hours before dawn, you’re a bright light for others. You’re setting the bar a little higher, pushing them to tap their potential and move past their own “stuff.” And in that way, you might be saving their life, too.

So here’s to you, fellow human being.

Here’s to being my hero, and my inspiration.

Let’s keep showing up for each other – and for ourselves. To see the sun rise and kiss the lake, to feel the wet grass beneath our feet. To collect these smiling faces and sweaty hugs, and remember that life is so much more beautiful with you in it.

Just show up. I’ll be waiting for you.

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