We Still Miss You Sam

Today’s post is written by Sasha Teninty. AKA Sasha Fierce AKA I’m Faster Than You. Written on the one year anniversary of Sam Dweck’s passing (and after the Monday workout). Read on.

I was nervous about this workout. It felt like it needed to be perfect in some way, encompassing everything that Sam Dweck meant to our tribe. A workout that would kick your butt with a wink or slap on the ass. A tribute to the girl who lit up when describing her time farming, pumpkin granola, and vegetable temporary tattoos. And so Laura and I found ourselves in Safeway at 5:30 AM, dazed and paralyzed over the unexpected selection of carrots that the store offered. Our under-caffeinated brains were overwhelmed by the sheer array that carrot market offered, so we grabbed six bags of baby carrots and dashed to the register.

The workout ended up being simple: grab a partner, dodge the local skunk slinking around, do some exercises, and collect a carrot from the heap whenever you completed a lap.

There were backwards hats, veggie tats, and big smiles that Sam would’ve appreciated. She had an infectious smile that lit up dark morning workouts, gave hugs that made everyone feel like an old friend, and provided encouragement that propelled her tribe through burpees.

Sam and I shared countless commutes to NP. She liked mellow, quiet music while we drove… she was alert and awake, but it took a bit of time for her trademark enthusiasm and bubbly nature to kick in. By the time we arrived at NP, she was in the zone –  radiant smile, bouncing curls under a backwards hat, huge hugs and goofiness. Once she told me that she always tries to be conscious of new people… she remembered being intimidated by the crew when she first started attending NP and how it seemed that everyone knew each other so well. A hug, someone remembering you, or sticking by your side in the sea of unfamiliar faces was significant. She was always aware of this and wanted to pay it forward to the new people.

I think that the word “community” is thrown around all the time and is a buzz word, but I can’t think of anything that encompasses it as well as NP(SF).

Sam possessed a genuine enthusiasm for life and the NP community. I remember her calling me the day after the bike progressive. I was parked, sitting in my car. We talked on the phone or texted most days, but this memory stands out because she was so happy. While up to this point Sam had enjoyed SF, she was still slightly uneasy in the city. Was she doing the right thing? She missed her friends and family on the east coast, didn’t have a full-time job, and was feeling a bit out of place. And then she found NP and something clicked. On this phone call she said “I think I have friends now”. At the time, I was thinking “Duh you’re amazing why wouldn’t you have all the friends?!”, but I didn’t understand the power of NP until I experienced it firsthand.

Along with many others, Sam’s death taught me that the tribe was family. We can count on each other, and we come together to provide a foundation that has been a haven for many. The tribe is a beacon of resiliency to me, and I will forever be grateful for the community, family, and friends that NPSF was to Sam.