Category: Personal Stories

Personal stories shared by November Project members.

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Meet Joel (YEG)

I am excited for you to meet one of the most cheerful members of NP Canada. While most people do not choose the coldest time of the year to join an outdoor fitness group, Joel did! I clearly remember that workout – one of our most difficult Monday circuits that included stairs, bridge sprints, and body weight exercises…I’m really glad we didn’t scare him off! A special memory I cherish is having Joel join me for my 40k 40th birthday run. Take some time to read and watch why Joel is hooked on NP!   read more

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The Missing Part – Meet Jenn (YEG)

For today’s intro, I want to introduce you to LC. Originally from Edmonton, she’s one of the leaders of November Project Montreal.

Bonjour from snowy Montréal! It is my honour and privilege to introduce NP Canada’s most recent Positivity Award Recipient, Jenn Nealon (or as Nadim and I like to call her: 2N-Jenn. Not to be confused with 1N-Jen Ference). read more

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DC: an unexpected love story (DC)

I was supposed to live in DC for three months. Three months. That’s it. As I come up on my fifth year of living in this lovable swamp we call home, I can’t help but think about why I’m still here.

After college I was lucky enough to score an internship with the Smithsonian Institution, so I packed up my apartment in Seattle and headed east to my Nation’s Capital.
read more

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GUEST BLOG: November Project Saves Lives (DC)

Y’ALL. I was planning to give you a write-up about “how we often forget about the life-changing nature of NP…” or something, but PLEASE, just move forward and read Sean O’Neill’s positively EPIC account of the Alaskan Wilderness and the all-important nature of a November Project buff. NOTE: Names and places have been kept EXACTLY THE SAME because this story is so incredible. 

HEEEEEEEEEEEERE’S SEAN-Y:

November Project makes some pretty bold proclamations. Free fitness, close friendships, daily inspiration… the list goes on. But whatever its claims, NP always backs them up, and the same goes with another one I’m adding to the list:

November Project saves lives.

Okay, I wouldn’t be surprised if this has been said before but I want to emphasize that November Project literally saves lives. How? Please continue, dear reader. I promise I’ll get there eventually.

In September 2016, I moved to DC and quickly became friends with Stephen, who moved here from Atlanta around the same time. We played on the same soccer team, explored DC’s music scene, and enjoyed more than a few hoppy beverages. As our friendship blossomed we may have slept in Stephen’s hatchback near the base of Virginia’s Old Rag Mountain so we could climb it at sunrise, but I can’t corroborate that.

We also began doing November Project. I had been an inconsistent member of the Baltimore tribe the previous year, but my new apartment in Columbia Heights allowed me no excuses on Meridian Mondays. After Sunday evening soccer and the requisite team trip to Dacha, Stephen and I would part ways with a “see you tomorrow morning?” Usually, we would.

 

An avid backpacker, Stephen encouraged me to get outside more and cut my teeth on some of the DC-accessible trails. After many La Colombe-fueled purchases at REI I began to accumulate the necessary gear, but various conflicts prevented me from joining Stephen on his weekend treks along the Appalachian Trail. This July I planned to take time off before law school and after finding reasonable flights to Alaska, we pulled the trigger on a bucket list trip for both of us.

Alaska’s Denali National Park is a six million acre expanse encircling the largest mountain in North America, the 20,310 ft. Mt. Denali. It’s filled with grizzly bears, moose, caribou, wolves, and occasionally, an inexperienced backpacker. Last Friday, Stephen and I recuperated from our flight by chugging hotel coffee, buying bear spray, and packing food/gear for two nights backpacking in the Denali wilderness. Wilderness is a fair term here: once backpackers get a permit and select a “unit” within the park, that entire swath of land (devoid of established trails or campsites) is theirs to wander. The park’s main entrance connects to a single inner roadway leading to the backpacking units, along which only National Park buses are permitted to drive. So we got our permit, sat through the informational video, and hopped on the first bus we could get.

After bushwhacking the way to our first campsite we were swarmed by mosquitoes but appreciative of the view (see below). Exhausted, we set up our tents and tried to sleep despite the sun’s glare, even at midnight. We would need our rest before the next day.

 

The NP buff saved my neck from mosquitoes. More on its usefulness later.      

 

Buggy campsite, but well worth the view.

 

In the morning, we drank in the views and little else due to our lack of water. We fought back through the brush to catch the earliest bus to Eielson Visitor Center, which boasted potable water and access to detailed maps. After chatting a bit with a friendly park ranger named Nick, we set off for Green Dome, a mountain right on the edge of our permitted unit.

Our route towards Green Dome was circuitous. Denali is full of false summits and ridges which appear to connect but are divided by deep gorges carved by glacial streams. After putting in some serious hiking, Stephen and I found ourselves thirsty, tired, and stranded high on a treacherous gravel bar. It was 8:30 pm, and though in summertime Alaska this meant we had hours of sunlight remaining, morale was low. We had altered our route a few times that day, but at this point we determined to stop eastward progress and head down towards the river bed. With water and some riverside rest, we would figure out where we would pitch camp.

On our way down, the park’s wild side began to show. We had seen several bears and experienced a stare down with a caribou bull, but the mountainside was proving more daunting. As we approached the river bed, Stephen and I chose different routes, hoping to minimize the rockslides caused by our downward progress. This is more mountaineering than hiking, I thought as I placed one foot after another down the steep slope, using a trekking pole to anchor my weight. From my peripheral vision, I could see Stephen doing the same 20 yards to my left. Boots scraping shale and falling rock echoed through the canyon, but a louder crash prompted me to swivel my head towards Stephen. He had disappeared from view. “Stephen!” No answer.

I rushed over the ridge, sending loose gravel careening in every direction. Another 30 feet down to the riverbed, I found Stephen covered in blood. Both his eyes and the deep gashes along his right leg told me we were in trouble.

We stood silently for a moment and looked around, as if taking in the austere landscape for the first time. Stephen’s trekking pole was lost in the fall, so between us we had one pole and our two packs, each weighing about 40 pounds. I grabbed the bear proof food container from Stephen’s pack, quickly filled my pack with stream water, and tied a t-shirt tourniquet to his leg. I tried not to contort my face when I saw the wounds up close, but Stephen somehow stayed calm. “I’ve got band-aids,” I offered lamely. “I don’t think those will be too helpful,” he responded. He was right.

We decided that our best bet would be to head towards Eielson Visitor Center, where there would hopefully be an off duty ranger and a fully stocked first aid kit. I was set on getting up to the ridge so we could see the road, but Stephen maintained that following the river bed would lead us directly back to Eielson. I ran up a nearby ridge to scope it out, and when I returned I insisted we both go that route, even though Stephen had made progress westward down the river. Stephen reluctantly agreed, but my idea was ill-advised. I had quickly made the climb right after Stephen fell, but that adrenaline-fueled scramble was made with an able body and without pack weight. We made it up, but in the harrowing process I dropped the food container 300 feet into the gorge. No more climbing sketchy gravel-shale that looks solid but breaks underfoot, we agreed. Okay, got it.

We walked as far as we could along the ridge before clambering back down into another glacial riverbed. Stephen said little about his pain, but it was increasingly evident that he was losing a lot of blood. “Dude, we need a better tourniquet.” Okay, I reached into my pack and grabbed the first thing my trembling hand found – the November Project Buff. “Here,” I said, pulling it out. Then I stared at Stephen stupidly, wondering how it could be wrapped around his foot. “Cut it.” Right. I winced, pulled out my knife and cut through it. I tied it hard over the bloody t-shirt and the bleeding seemed to slow.

When we got to a fork in the river, Stephen knew exactly where we were. I left him, for the second time after he fell, and sprinted down the riverbed towards the visitor center. I felt like the kid in every movie: Free Willy, Old Yeller, Lassie, you name it. Okay those are all animal movies, but you get the feeling: never leave your badly injured friend alone in bear country echoed in my head as I ran. But, Old Yeller was losing blood so I ran as fast as I could to Eielson.

After what felt like miles (about 2.5, as the crow flies), I got there. I didn’t know for sure if anyone would be there, since it was approaching midnight and getting dark. I burst through the “Employees Only” door and made as much noise as I could. If I didn’t find some sort of emergency phone, I planned to pull the fire alarm so that somebody would come. As I was crashing around the hallway, an off duty park ranger in his PJs appeared. “What’s going on?” he asked sleepily. “Friend…fell…Green Dome…lots of blood…my favorite November Project Buff…” I’m sure whatever I said was nonsensical but eventually the ranger, Paul, found out what he needed and got to work.

Paul radioed other rangers from both directions of the Denali Park Road. Once they got here, he told me, this ragtag Search and Rescue team would go back out with me to retrieve Stephen. “No chopper?” I asked. He told me the rangers would make that determination onsite. Did I think Stephen needed a chopper? I retold the story to maximize the amount of carnage. For all I knew, Stephen could be facing off against grizzlies right now (he was) and I wanted to get my friend out of there alive. “Yeah, I think he needs a chopper.”

Denali’s remote beauty comes with a price, which I felt in those long minutes waiting for other rangers to come. About 30-45 minutes, Paul said. I alternated between pacing and hovering over a trash can, unsure if the adrenaline would induce nausea. Finally, I asked Paul for socks, water, and a snack since I would be hiking back to lead the team to Stephen. Rockstar that he was, he obliged.  Note to self: I still owe Paul dry socks and a turkey wrap.

After three quarters of an hour, another park ranger arrived. He asked questions and shouted into the radio while pulling together a bag filled with first aid supplies. Paul handed him the satellite phone to call the chopper dispatcher. I stood next to him and eavesdropped, ready to interject at any point and insist that a helicopter was indeed necessary. While I stood beside him, he stopped midsentence and gestured towards the ridge leading from the riverbed to the visitor center. “Is that a light?” Knowing how much noise I had made on my way to Eielson, I thought it might be a nearby backpacker checking out the commotion. Nonetheless, I sprinted towards the bouncing light, which was quickly making its way towards us. It was dark, but as I got closer, I saw it was Stephen running full out despite his injury. We hugged the shit out of each other. “Could this be the guy who definitely needs a chopper?” I heard the park ranger yell.

* * *

Nick, the same ranger who had spoken to us earlier that afternoon, bandaged Stephen up and threw on a splint before an assembled audience of park rangers and road crew. “Dude, that is so badass that you ran back yourself! And I can’t believe you saw bears (yep, he did) on your way. That scar is going to make a killer bar story.” And so on and so forth. After he was stabilized, the crew loaded him into the park’s ambulance. Despite a road closure and my request to stop to throw up, our bus driver Sissy made excellent time en route to the main entrance parking lot. From there, I would drive the rest of the way to the Fairbanks Hospital ER.  With normalcy somewhat restored, I gripped the steering wheel tight and once again praised Alaska’s remoteness, not encountering a single trooper as we sped to the hospital.

In Fairbanks, the staff was very attentive to “the Denali kid,” as I heard a passing nurse call Stephen. He recounted his story to the doctor, and while he spoke I learned that the NP buff torniquet I had tied had not been sufficient. After I left to get help, Stephen ripped the buff again so that he could wrap it around his leg, applying pressure directly to the wound.  This slowed the bleeding dramatically, allowing Stephen to make it all the way back to the station. His leg looked pretty scary in the wild, but I don’t think either of us realized how lucky we got until he spoke to the doctor. Pretty damn lucky.

Right after Stephen fell, as we took stock of our situation and figured out what to do, he made me a bold statement for someone whose leg was unrecognizable. “I promise you, we’re still going to have fun in Alaska.” And after he got stitched up, we hiked a glacier, went salmon fishing, partied with South Africans, camped out in hammocks, and visited two breweries. So next time your buddy says “check out November Project, I promise you’ll have fun,” you should believe them. Not only does NP cement friendships, kick off your morning like a King Kong sized Starbucks, and get you in grizzly bear racing shape, but it just might save your life.

DAMN. Do you have chills? I have chills. Nice work, Sean and Stephen– we’re glad you guys are alive, and we’re glad you’re here. 

MUCH LOVE, DC.

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It Takes an Urban Village ( AMS )

When explaining to somone what November Project is, you will often here us say ‘ It’s more than just a workout ’, and we mean it!
On to many more Wacky Wednesdays together!

Guest blog brought to you by Hulahooprunner

Urban sociology theorizes that individuals embrace the anonymity offered by cities. City dwellers enjoy the large, dense, and heterogenous atmosphere provided by urban culture. Amongst the hustle and bustle background, urbanites camouflage themselves. Unlike small towns – where everybody knows your name, birthday, street address, and what you had for breakfast – cities offer isolation, superficial connections, and fleeting relationships. In the absence of intimate personal acquaintanceships, however, cities can also be a breeding ground for loneliness.

 

I know what loneliness feels like first hand. I moved to Amsterdam, the capital and most populous city of the Netherlands, in 2015. With a population of approximately 820,000 people, Amsterdam by my small-town, rural standards is a proper city. As a working mother, and expat, I quickly became immersed in, and shocked by, city life. Cramped into a small apartment, with maximum social distance, I began the process of self-invention and self-erasure. Instead of creating any social bonds or establishing close ties with anyone or any particular group (minus a few colleagues), I slowly detached and disengaged from my surroundings.

 

I had been invited to this group called November Project on January 1, 2017 by one of its members, David. It would still take me another nine months before I would finally show up. It wasn’t because I was lazy or because I couldn’t commit to early morning workouts. Those that know me, know that I am a morning person and that I am anything but slothful. It also wasn’t because I had too many social engagements or fitness groups to attend. I was deficient in both fronts.

 

The reason it took me so long to finally show up at the Nemo Stairs at 6:28am on Wednesday was because I was sick. My illness, however, was invisible. I had no physical ailments, injury, scars, or bruising to show. I was chronically depressed, and I was existing in the darkness of anonymity. I was simply a Jane Doe wandering aimlessly through the narrow streets of Amsterdam plagued by fear, anxiety, and loneliness. I was suffering from an imperceptible agony and I had no cure.

 

I was ashamed, guilt-ridden, and secretly shouldering a burden that was leaving indentations on my spirit. Somewhere between the hopelessness and nothingness, I had mustered enough energy to devise the ultimate escape plan. With the curtains drawn, body lethargic, and mind lulled by blackness, I had become a problem solver. I had designed the most effective way to eliminate the pain: suicide. It was a bullet-proof, inescapable plan. I had a date set and a fail-safe method chosen.

 

It was not an easy, weak, selfish, or sinful decision. It was the only way out of this abyss. I no longer wanted to be a burden to those that I loved. I did not want to die. I just no longer had the ability to live. Due to a fortunate set of events and intervention by a friend, my family, and medical professionals, I was able to step back from the ledge and get the help I so desperately needed. But this was only the beginning of what would become an intense, multi-pronged, treatment plan.

 

On my road to recovery, I needed to somehow find connection with my fellow urban villagers. I had for too long passed unnoticed, hiding in the dark crevices of urban spaces. I could no longer engage in disappearing acts. I needed to deconstruct the anonymity and connectedness binary. This is where November Project entered the scene. Nine months after being invited to join the Amsterdam Tribe, I finally found myself greeted with tight embraces, high fives, goedemorgens, and a whole lot of cheer. I found it uncomfortable. I felt out of place. But I was also a bit intrigued. As the Wednesday mornings rolled into the next, I found myself hugging back, letting down my guard, and even having a bit of fun (gasp!). November Project had overridden the need for anonymity in the city and created a bond of lifestyle, of shared interests, of kinship. It created urban connectedness and was my very own urban village within a larger city.

 

Since joining November Project, my son has also become a regular tribe member. He is the only four-year-old I know that has mastered the burpee and plank. Every Wednesday (which he calls ‘Wacky Wednesday’), he wakes up excited to workout, to give high fives, to wear his grassroots gear, and to be goofy with the tribe leaders, Saskia and Roderik. Within less than a year, November Project has become an extended family to us.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Amsterdam Tribe, for saving my life each and every Wednesday morning and for allowing me and my son free entrance into your awesome urban village.

    

Heather and Kid X, we’re glad you are here!

Veel liefs, NP AMS 

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Stein Esser – NP Came During a Time in my Life When I Really Needed It (ATL)

The below is a guest blog post from one of our longtime members, Stein Esser. He won ATL tribe’s Positivity Award, and has an amazing story to share. 

This week, I won the November Project Atlanta Positivity Award for being So Chill, So Popular™.

If you had told me a year ago that I would win something for being a positive influence on others around me (and have a catch phrase), I would never have believed you because I was in the midst of a particularly brutal, year long bout of depression. I’ve touched on it in a previous blog post,=&0=&but In light of recent events with the passing of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade, I feel like I would be doing a disservice to this award if I didn’t share my own history with chronic depression.

I should first say that I am incredibly fortunate to have grown up with a loving family and friends. I had an amazing childhood and upbringing. If you ask people that know me, they’d say I’m kind of an oddball. I’ve always loved comedy and goofy humor. But at the same time, depression is something that I think I’ve always dealt with in some capacity. For me, I think it emanates from a deep fear of rejection and failure. As a pretty introspective person, those feelings of self-doubt could snowball into a constant barrage of negativity. As a result, I’d go through periods of depression that could last any amount of time. If I had to describe it, it’s like constantly hating yourself so much that your body hurts and you’d rather feel nothing. And so, to get by, you check out mentally and emotionally. While all of that is going on internally, to the outside world, you’re either a robot that’s going through the motions or an asshole that’s projecting negativity. It really fucking sucks.

Depression is really hard to talk about. The stigma of it all puts you in a shame cycle. Ideally, you could say, “Hey, my brain feels broken. Who can relate? WHOOOOO” (shout out to Logic). I’ve always been fortunate to have had people support me and help pull me back out of my depressive episodes.  They may not have known it, but their simple act of kindness or just reaching out really went a long way.

I am so grateful for all of the meaningful connections I’ve made and positive experiences I’ve felt this past year. I feel like my genuine self again and am more present than I can remember. Depression is something that I don’t think will ever leave me, but it’s more manageable. A philosopher named Sean Francis Early once said “Fuck them, Be you.”  For me, that’s a powerful message about being true to oneself and telling that negative self-doubt shit to fuck off. To win the Positivity Award means so much to me not only because of all I’ve been through but also because I’ve made it a goal to reciprocate those good vibes.  When a person seems checked out/low/sad/tired/depressed, just be there for them. It matters.

Here’s Stein’s speech that he gave for the Positivity Award. 

You can check out Stein’s hilarious Instagram stories by following him: @steincasso.

Stein – with so many expressions when he won the Positivity Award.

 

 

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NP’s Got My Back (YEG)

Hey Everyone,

 

To be honest, I’m not really sure why I started showing up. I had heard about this “weird” group of people who got together in the wee hours of the morning to sweat it out together. Sure. I could try it. Other than a bit of sleep, I really had nothing to lose.

 

With that little thought, my NP journey started.

 

My first morning was a summer Wednesday in 2014. We all know what Wednesday’s mean.  Commonwealth. Stairs for breakfast. I had no idea about any of this when I showed up that first day. I walked through the gate, looked around at all of you in your matching spray-painted shirts.  You all started bouncing, screamed “fuck yeah” and then started pounding up those stairs. I joined in.

 

After that first day, I was hooked!  I told everyone about November Project.

My friends mostly thought I was nuts.  6am? Sweaty hugs from strangers?

 

What I was immediately drawn to though, was you. Each Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I got a morning high from all your “good jobs”, sweaty hugs, high-fives, nose boops, birthday booms and awkward silent stares (and much more).

 

I think what I had found was exactly what I was looking for – that real, no-strings attached, unconditional positivity that happens when an awesome group of people have each others’ backs while working towards the same thing.

 

 

Little did I know at the time but NP, the “weird” group, was about to become a crucial part of my personal journey from that point on. This included some exciting highs and very challenging lows over the past few years…

 

Just a few months into joining NP, I hit that first low.  I was dealing with some health issues that prevented me from attending regularly. In fact, this kept me away from most types of physical activity. That was hard.  I was away from NP so long that I felt awkward about attempting to come back to such a badass group.  So I stayed away. For months.

 

During that time, I’d take a look at the blog or twitter and see where you were all meeting and working out. Yes, I kept tabs on you!

 

Right before the September long weekend in 2015, I thought that I’d suck it up and come back. Maybe the darkness of an early morning in September was a good way to ease back in.  Twitter told me that the tribe was meeting down near Dawson park for the holiday Monday workout. That was as good a day as any to get back to NP.  What could we possibly be doing down by the river though?  Dragon boat racing! After months of being away, I came back to such an amazing day. Dragon boat day. Hard to believe but on that day, the dragon boat race wasn’t what I remembered the most. What was most memorable, was when Nadim saw me. He walked right up, gave me a big hug, smiled and simply said, “welcome back”. A big, unconditional welcome back.

 

 

I was back at it. Running hills. Eating stairs for breakfast. Perfecting hoisty-js. I made it a good way through my first winter too. And then, just like that, more health issues. No significant physical activity is what I was told to do (or not do). Again, when I was better, I stayed away for a few months thinking that you wouldn’t accept me back for a second time…

 

During the summer of 2016, I was doing a radio series on CBC’s Edmonton AM- on Monday mornings.  Right before my segment, Andrew was on air talking hockey. He had an apple in hand and was decked out in grassroots gear. He had just come from Monday’s workout.  He came out of the studio and introduced himself to me. I said hi back and told him that I used to come to NP.  He said, “well come back, we miss you!”  I laughed it off. At the end of my segment, he was still there and, as I left the studio, he turned to me and said, “I’ll see you Wednesday. Stairs.”

 

 

Just like that, I was back at it. This time, I decided that whatever happened, there was no need to disappear for months on end. The tribe would always be there. Just trust in it.

 

 

I did.

 

Shortly after coming back, I broke my rib. That didn’t stop me though. Sure, I had to walk the hills and gingerly went up the stairs but I decided to #justshowup.  That same summer, I also had the unfortunate luck of tearing my achilles tendon.  I was a real mess with a taped up leg and a broken rib. Whatever though.

 

 

I made it through my first winter that year! It was long, dark and cold but I did it with a lot of help from you. We all know that we’re stronger together, especially at 6am in January.

 

 

In early 2017, my fitness had really improved and I declared to myself that I would run a marathon that year. I had never declared such a thing to myself before. I had always been an “in moderation” kind of fitness person.

 

In addition to my regular NP mornings, I thought I should train for a marathon in a bigger way. I had never done this before so I enlisted the help of Shaif, a running guru in Edmonton who owns Achieve Personal Training Studio. When you run with Shaif, he’ll cheer for you, scream at you, hug you, laugh at you, and, most importantly, teach you how to run! Also, I got to meet a whole new crew of experienced and fun-loving runners in Edmonton.

 

Last year, I ran a 5km, 10km and a half marathon race.

 

And then, just like that, I couldn’t go any further. I was in pain. My fingers hurt. My knees hurt. My foot hurt. My wrist hurt.  I had never experienced this kind of pain before. I even told some of you about it.  I just didn’t feel like myself. Stupidly though, I just ignored the pain. I kept coming to NP, running with Shaif, lifting weights at the downtown YMCA but truly, I just didn’t feel right.  I couldn’t run, jump or step up anything. In fact, I could barely walk.

 

 

Finally, with a lot of prodding from my wonderful and loving husband, I went to the doctor. After a few weeks, and many tests, I was – very sadly – diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis (RA), which I quickly learned is an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation in the joints and eventually will cause joint degeneration and deformity. I found this out on a Friday in the summer of 2017. The very next day was the inaugural race for The Relay YEG.

 

I put on my brave face and showed up that sunny afternoon.  I was pumped to meet my team and get the chance to run with others. It wasn’t about the race but about meeting awesome people.  Unfortunately for me, I ran with a lot of pain in my joints that day.

 

 

I just simply couldn’t deny it any longer.  I had a real problem.

 

When I got home later that afternoon, I started googling what RA is and what it could/would mean for me.  I was horrified at what I read. I could end up in a wheelchair? What?! My hands and feet were eventually going to be and look deformed? Huh?!

 

Not me. I didn’t/don’t want that. That began my obsession of learning as much as I could about this disease and how to manage it for life. I changed my already vegetarian diet to an anti-inflammatory diet. I cut down on wine consumption (waaaah!). I practiced range of motion exercises each morning. I got more sleep. I minimized non-essential stress. I spent more time strengthening the muscles around my joints. Most importantly, I took the medications that were prescribed to me. This was not a joke.

 

I vowed to myself that none of those horrific, debilitating things would ever happen to me. I wouldn’t let it.

 

Sadly, I had to put my marathon dream on hold late last year.  Fortunately though, I chose to keep showing up to NP! I’m so grateful that I chose to give myself that time with all of you.  Your energy and determination has been so restorative for me.

 

I thought that with this new health news, I’d never be able to be outside in the coldest parts of the winter (joint protection is very important now for me), however, slowly but surely, the meds I have to take for life (probably) have started working. I don’t feel any pain in the cold and can pretty much do anything again.

 

 

With many of you there, I earned my first -30 badge on the last day of January 2018! I was so excited and proud to receive my badge and, more importantly, a big hug and “well done” from Jen.  She was my biggest cheerleader that morning.

 

 

Now that I’m feeling strong again, and think less and less about RA, I have some big goals that I want to achieve this year:

  • Do the old 96er
  • Run a marathon

 

I’m not sure if my body can do it but I’m going to train smart and train hard to get me there. What I now know, that I didn’t really place much emphasis on before, is that running and being active is a privilege. I didn’t realize how much until the events of the last year unfolded the way they did.

 

What I love about November Project is that when we all get to the bounce, we’re all the same. It doesn’t matter what we brought to the workout. It only matters what happens while we’re one tribe.  Once there, we are all working towards the same goal. Get up that damn hill. And we do it together.

 

I also love that, through November Project, I get to meet so many great people when visiting other cities. I’ve been to the San Francisco tribe (twice) and the San Diego tribe. Each time, the tribe’s goal was the same. Get up that damn hill (especially in SF!!).

 

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What’s even more awesome is when I spot someone in grassroots gear.  In June 2017, right before running my first half marathon in beautiful Banff, I spotted Gene. He’s from Philadelphia.  I had on a tagged jacket and he had on his buff. It was crazy that we just walked up to each other and said “hi”.  We even got to reconnect after the race for an awesome high five.

 

 

I’m truly grateful for the friendships I’ve formed since coming to NP. Though I’ve been around for a few years now, I’ve disappeared for months at a time and I’m really still just getting to know so many of you.

 

I guess what the main point of this ramble is that, through thick and thin, NP’s got my back. Once I trusted in it, I have fully realized the power of the tribe.

 

Whether I personally know you, have high fived you, hugged you (wishing you a great day) or have said “good job” to you, I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. The tribe is an important part of my day, week, month and year. Every. Damn. Time.

 

I’m thankful I got my butt out of bed that day back in June 2014. I’m glad I came back- both times. Now, I’m grateful and feel privileged to be able to join you each week and cheer you on as well, all working towards the same goal.

 

 

It really is the best effing way to start the day.

 

Lazina

 

Important Dates

  • Guest Bounces start June 11
  • Yearbook Photos: June 27 – theme announced soon!
  • Old 96er dates: July 4 and August 29

November Project Canada’s 5th Birthday Bash! read more

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Love NP? Gimme Some Skin!

Notes From the Editor:

Amy DK  is a longstanding member of November Project Chicago. Beginning her journey just over two years ago, Amy has never missed an opportunity to show how much the entire November Project community means to her. She loves us SO MUCH that she has donated one of her organs to recruit more people. Yes, she is that BAD-ASS! Now it’s our turn to show our gratitude for this wonder-full woman. Amy, you are amy-azing. You are so much more than amy-eer mortal. You literally can’t do amything wrong. Don’t think we have amy more puns? When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s Amyore! Ok, ok, we’re done. With no further ado, Amy take it away!

Where to start, where to start?  I have tried to write this post a handful of times in my head and cried too many [happy and sad] tears in the process of writing.  This tribe brings out all of the feels inside me, so just going to take a deep breath and go for it!

May 27, 2016 – Third Row, 6th from right, my first November Project Workout!

So to start at the beginning: Hey y’all!  For those that do not know me yet, I’m Amy!  For those of you who do know me: yes I may possibly bring back the glitter shirt for pride month, stay tuned.

Any-who, last week was my two year NP-iversary and as many of you may have seen via the social medias I decided to commemorate with a tattoo that speaks to my spirit [read on to see it].  AKA I mixed together my love of spontaneous travel, NP, story-telling and “jumbled-ideas-that-turn-into-fabulous-outcomes”. From the feedback I have received from NP-ers, my new tattoo is “bad-ass”, “amazing” and has gotten a lot of “fuck yeah! s”.  From feedback I have received by non-NP-ers, they told me I need to hold myself to the quote and some have even been intrigued enough to #justshowup after I use my tattoo as a reason to talk about NP and attempt to recruit them.

To back it up just a bit for those who have not seen, last week I began one of my leg sleeve tattoos starting with all eight city tags I have received from various, random world travel, the date of my first workout and my favorite NP bounce:

I am FAST

I am FIT

I am STRONG

I am THE SHIT

I admittedly do not currently own any shorts, so the potential of seeing said tattoo at a workout near you may take a hot second until I find some quality running shorts!  Also I am in the process of planning my next trip and am hoping to bring back some fresh new city tags which will be added to my new tattoo collection!

All of that being said, I am hoping to share a few bits of myself some of you may not know, so I am not merely known as “the girl with the November Project tattoo”.   I like lists because I am a Virgo and life can get a bit messy without a good list.

I moved to Chicago June 1st 2015, which I never thought I would make it even a year here.  Finding my tribe (aka my family away from my family) has kept me here and made me proud of living in this city.

Six months after I moved to Chicago, my best friend who I lived with all throughout college and then lived down the street from me here in Chicago unexpectedly passed away abroad.  Consequentially six months after this happened I went to my first November Project workout. You all have shown, and keep showing me, that you can’t push others away forever. Instead you need to keep going, find your tribe, hug them close and love them hard. read more

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Finding the Good

There has been lots of discussion about the stadium. Four weeks into our new home and we’re starting to get to know this beast. It’s the best but it’s the worst. It feels so awful, yet so satisfying. It gives you that feeling later in the afternoon when you stand up after a long time sitting and you quickly recall how many stairs you ran this morning, how many floors you ran UP. If you have not yet felt these things, you can probably push yourself a little harder next time. But it’s finding the sweet spot. What about the people whose calves were tight for 6 days post stairs? Or who felt fatigued from the Wednesday before? You don’t know while you’re doing it how much you will hurt. You were tired and your lungs hurt and you used your hand to push yourself off your leg like it’s the only way to take the next step. That first time at the stairs is a killer, and same with the next one. And to be honest, they all hurt. It’s so hard, no matter what your athlete background, your 5km time, your Boston Marathon time, your age, your gender. It’s always hard. The toughest part is finding that sweet spot where you feel you are pushing as hard as you can, but you can keep one step in front of the other. But know that it’s hard for everyone, but that’s why having someone next to you huffing and puffing keeps you moving.

One thing I’ve heard about the stairs is like starting to run. A tough run might mean you start with 500m, then walk, then another 500m, or maybe 1 km, or 2km and slowly build up. You quickly notice how much better those distances feel, how your body adjusts to the breathing, to the movements, to finding a rhythm. But you’ve started with something where you’ve had success, something you know you can do again. You didn’t start with 20km, and then not walk for a week. You’ve started running to be sustainable. The compound effect would suggest that someone is better off beginning small and remaining consistent, that someone who runs 20 km on their first day and then has to take the next two weeks off to recover. You don’t always know what this is like on the stairs, so Wednesdays are to figure that out.

Notice that there is no pace or number of stairs that you need to run. There is just time. How fast you go is up to you. The stairs is a big challenge to take on- it’s hard no matter what you do. How can you find the groove where you just keep on moving? How can you find that pace where you can do the things you want to do the next two days or 5 days and not say no because you can’t can on and off the toilet without assistance.

 

You may have perhaps already nailed this stadium thing and you know all of this. Or maybe you’re considering not coming back because it’s just to hard. Trust us, you will get better, you will get stronger, you will get smarter at the stairs. They are not as simple as people might think if they have never been.

And with that, knowing that everyone is pushing themselves as hard as they can go, encourage everyone you pass by, or when anyone passes you. Keep right so others can pass you and know everyone is working their tail off. They also woke up this morning, knowing how stupidly hard these things are. And when you’re done, be proud, no matter how far you got or how fast you were going. You kept moving.

Thank you for sharing your morning, your time and your energy with us. We are glad you came.

Here’s to bringing “soles” together

Lauren and Liz

ANNOUNCEMENTS:

  1. Monday, May 21st 6:29am Parliament Hill we are hosting a Holiday POP UP workout. #backattheoldstompingground

     2. CHEER STATION, your reading it here! Ottawa Race Weekend if your not racing come join the party. Cheer      party that is.  Saturday, May 26 | 5K & 10K we will be posted at Pretoria Bridge from 4pm onwards.  Sunday, May 27 | half & full we will be posted up around the 18K/39K mark along Colonel By. Right around where Concord and Echo meet from 8:30am onwards. read more

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Take a Penny, Leave a Penny – Guest Blog by Chloe (NOLA)

Wisconsin Notes

  • Kickass Blog Post by Chloe
  • Very Important Announcements
  • Recruiting Challenge

Last week, Chloe S. received the Positivity Award. For those of you who don’t know Chloe, she’s fast, friendly, and has a warm & welcoming charm to her. She was an obvious choice. What we didn’t realize is how much it would mean to her. When we find out that this award, a cut up oar, can mean so much to someone, it’s reenergizing for us. It’s a reminder of why we love being here for each and every one of you. Thank you, Chloe, for sharing such an awesome tribute to this tribe. Enjoy!

“Take a Penny, Leave a Penny”

Therapist: “Hey, how are you?”

Me: *casually strolls in with Positivity Award in hand*

Therapist: *laughing* “What the f*ck is that?”

Me: *explains what it is; what it means to me; how I cried afterward in my car because I felt immense acceptance; and, what I’ve come to realize the effect November Project has had on my life and my ascendance into happiness*

Therapist: “What’s the name of that again?” *makes a note* “I’m gonna tell my other patients about it.”

Me: “Send them all!” (#recruiteveryone)

Chloe took us very seriously when we said bring the PA everywhere.

In conversation, my description of NP changes from person to person. To some, I say it’s a really dynamic workout that keeps me accountable and challenged; to others, it’s an hour-long playdate full of games and goofiness; and to others I talk about how it’s an addictive community of genuine humans that work together and support one another, where I feel stronger (in every way) with every workout. Really though, it’s all three and more.

Folks like me, who have seen their fair share of down and dark, see November Project for the invaluable and bottomless supply of up and light. For every dark day, for all the self-doubt, for any inner criticism NP is the ultimate re-charging station, leaving me uplifted and connected. In other words, the impact of this community reaches well beyond 6am to 7am and even further beyond just the physical benefits of a really great workout.

Getting all of this from NP feels a little like a con, like I’ve somehow rigged the system. But really, each tribe member puts into the NP community just as much as we take from it. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about what I was putting in because I had been so focused on using NP for the support I needed. That’s the genius. That’s the secret. It’s a leave-a-penny-take-a-penny system that never runs out.

So, use November Project how you feel you should. For whatever you need NP to be. They won’t mind. Because when you #justshowup to take what you need, you’re also giving someone else what they need. Take support, give support (or positivity, or care, or high fives, or good mornings, or….you get it).

Unmatched community, unbridled joy, and unconditional acceptance.

ANNOUNCEMENTS (please read)

  • Thursday – NP Social @ White Sands Volleyball Court @ 7:30PM
  • Saturday – Habitat for Humanity Service Day. 8am – 4PM @ 6130 S Hermes St, New Orleans, LA 70126. Join our Social Group if you want more information and want to carpool!
  • RECRUITING CHALLENGE: #TeamMom vs #TeamDad. Now until Picture Day on June 13th. If Glenn’s (Dad) team wins, Mia will do something embarrassing. If Mia’s (Mom) team wins, Glenn will do something embarrassing. This morning we split you into teams. Now it’s up to you if you want to stay with your chosen parent or be a FREE AGENT. If you decide to be a free agent and move to the other team, then you’re stuck with that team the rest of the challenge. Essentially the day you bring a recruit will be the day you decide which team you’d like to commit to (so bring recruits!!).
    • If you’re on Glenn’s team, each recruit you bring will earn your team a point (and a new recruiter).
    • Same goes for Mom’s team.
    • It’s THAT easy.

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