The Good Old Days

Guess blog today by POW!:

After the workout today, post coffee, pre-work, I found myself procrastinating, elbow deep in the kitchen “junk” drawer.  In the the midst of tossing a collection of uninspiring fortunes once housed in the perfect sweet ending to bad delivery decision, I came across one that I decided not to throw away.  There were certainly more poetic fortunes in the vast collection but for some reason this one stuck.  But I will get back to that…

My alarm went off this morning at an obnoxious 4:15AM.  After convincing myself that the clock was telling the truth I quickly put on my never quite clean smelling #grassrootsgear and packed my bag.  In my bag was a speaker, an extra pair of socks, my camera, and the three “sustainable” peppers I had decorated in Sharpie marker the night before as props for the morning’s workout. On each pepper was a word that when put together said “Fast As Sam.”


As I was making my way towards the workout, desperately trying to avoid the dark abyss that is a NYC snow puddle, I started to think about this gesture of writing on vegetables as a dedication to someone who had lost their life way too early.  I wondered if this girl I had never met would appreciate this gesture or if I just committed the ultimate crime and ruined perfectly good vegetables; distinctly going against everything she stood for.  I thought about the various ways I could maintain the peppers for future consumption in order to right my wrong.  Then I stepped in a puddle.  Maybe it was a sign from Sam? Maybe we are even now?  So glad I packed extra socks.

I am the first one to the bridge, other than a guy who looks to be homeless and definitely has no clue that within the next 15 minutes a group of neon clad humans are going to be running back and forth on this bridge, for fun.  The guy makes his way toward the bridge and my first thought is, THE PEPPERS!  I had already strategically placed each pepper in plain sight along the bridge path.  He will take them because he is probably hungry.  Wait!  Maybe giving him the peppers to eat is the right thing to do.  Sam would prefer it that way.  Wait!  There is Sharpie all over it.  He will be poisoned.  AAAGGGHHHH why has this gesture of remembrance become so complicated???  Why do I even care???

In the end, the peppers were not taken by the guy I assumed homeless and the workout began and ended with all of the enthusiasm, energy and love I am sure Sam would have wanted. Even if it meant three peppers had to be sacrificed in the process.

Fast forward to this afternoon when I was thinking of how to put into words the first two hours of today.  It was then I remembered the fortune that I decided to keep.


THESE are the good old days.  And thanks to people like Sam and all of the other inspiring, motivating, ridiculous humans of November Project across the globe that I am proud to call my family across, I have never felt more PRESENT.

We love you, Sam. Oh, and I found someone to compost the peppers (thanks, K. Shea).  Thank you for being here, ALWAYS.

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