A Happy Photograph Is In Your Future! (BOS)

Today’s post is going to be different. Instead of talking about how amazing we all our for training in the cold (keep in mind that Edmonton is still kicking asses and taking names) or trying to be witty by talking about the strength of gorillas, or BG’s infected toe, today I’ll give you Monday’s location up front (Donnelly Field in Cambridge) and will have our friend Brett Vankoski take it from here. Brett is smart, wise, and deals with distress better than most of us would. Brett, you and your family are an inspiration and we wish you all the best!

“Don’t’ go outside,” the weatherman said. “Stay off the roads, stay warm, huddle together, hide the women and children, stop drop and roll!!!”

Every local television station on the evening of January 2nd dished out apocalyptic warnings like these. That night the greater Boston area braced for the imminent onslaught of the polar vortex that was angrily charging towards the city like the Broncos defensive line towards Tom Brady.

“Just show up” tweeted the November Project.

The following morning in the darkness just before sunrise, a boisterous, and occasionally foul-mouthed group of neon clad workout warriors, some looking like physically fit and fluorescent Michelin men, walked, jogged, biked or skied in frigid temperatures to the top of Summit Ave in Brookline. Their normal workout routine was only mildly interrupted by an abundance of ice, snow and cold. While the rest of the city was comfortably tucked into their warm little beds, this crew traded their bunny slippers for sneakers and snow shovels and proceeded to dig out the neighborhood like penguins with a purpose. It was an inspirational example of community love if ever there was one.

At least that’s what I heard. While they were out there, I was snuggled up in bed doing my best impression of Goldilocks on Nyquil. Later that day, I was struck by feelings of amazement, bewilderment and envy after reading what happened.

“No way!”
“How could this be?”
“Didn’t they listen to the nice weather guy?”
“Man, I wish I had just shown up.”

Things changed after that. If I was coherent enough at 5 AM to put one foot in front of the other (and not impaired by geography or family commitments) I resolved to get my ass to the workout regardless of whatever Mother Nature threw at me. Shit might happen to make things difficult, but there was no way I was going to miss out again.

As I write this, I am sitting in the waiting room at Brigham & Womans hospital. My wife is in surgery. She was recently diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 38. Fortunately, chances of a full recovery are good. She will be okay, but the process will be long and mentally exhausting for our family. It seems crazy to be thinking about a loony band of runners who meet three times a week to jump up and down and hug one another while she is under the knife, but sometimes you think about weird stuff in times of stress.

Or maybe it’s not so weird. To an outsider, the November Project may seem like a smiley jumble of goofball twenty-somethings who are into stair climbing and selfies. However, those of you who’ve hoisted your share of Hoistiees know better. The November Project isn’t just about Burpees, Bojans, F-Bombs and Grassroots Gear. These things are truly badass and completely worth the price of admission, but they’re not even close to the whole story. At its core … its essence … its mother-fucking soul, the November Project is about accomplishing shit you never thought you could, and overcoming obstacles you never thought you’d encounter. It’s about triumph over self-doubt, and the irrepressible desire to take on challenges most people try to avoid. If you’ve completed “Frogman 1,” you understand this.

Nobody wants to find out that their wife has cancer, or they’ve been let go from their job, or their favorite TV show has been cancelled, or that Kanye and Kim are having relationship problems. However, just like the polar vortex, the unexplainable often occurs. It’s easy to bitch, moan, make excuses and feel sorry for yourself. It’s better to take whatever hand grenade life throws at you and throw it right back. Bruce Springsteen said it best, “Some guys they just give up living, start dying little by little piece by piece. Some guys come home from work and wash up, and go racing in the streets.” No matter what happens in life, you have two choices, give up or jump up and get back into the race.

Our family may have some challenges ahead of us, but thankfully I’ve learned a few things while scaling my share of icy ninja stairs. If you just show up, give out a few hugs, run fast and maybe drop a few strategically placed F bombs, there will be a happy photograph in your future. For me, this is the lesson of the November Project, and I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to learn it.

Fuck Yeah.

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