Go the extra mile…

DISCLAIMER: This is a novel, and its not written well. We need blog fodder. Don’t read this if poor grammar, punctuation, run on sentences or sappy thought provoking bullshit bothers you. You’ve been warned.

A few months back, at the gym formerly known as Crossfit East Sacramento, we were visited by a young, very eager very green crossfitter. Normally I take a hand off approach to coaching other affiliates’ athletes because I don’t want to undermine another coach by contradicting their information.

Normally that is, unless they are a total train wreck or in the process of injuring themselves. The kid was strong, but his legs were writing checks that his core couldn’t cash, each deadlift above 135 made his back look like a rainbow, even though he had as much as 275 on the bar moving fairly quickly at one point. It wasn’t his fault, he had no idea he was an accident waiting to happen. No one had the conviction to tell this guy, who was an ever-traveling perpetual visitor, that he was destroying himself rather than building himself up. It was much easier to let him be someone else’s problem. Keep him from killing himself today, charge him 20 bucks, send him on his way and pray he doesn’t come back.

Long story short, I spent the next 90 minutes with this young man, who had been in and out of numerous big named affiliates, trying to get him to learn how to lift while keeping his midline intact. He had no concept of keeping his back flat, arched or otherwise, total train wreck do over. Thus, he received a free personal training session and a free visit to our gym. Hopefully he left with a better understanding of his body and how to use it properly. I don’t know if he realized what I did for him or even appreciated it, but I know that I did my best to make a difference for someone who needed it that day.

Why did I spend this time on a stranger? Why didn’t I charge him, and why does it matter? It matters to me because a long time ago I ignored the chance to help someone who really needed it. Until now I’ve only told a few people about this story, but it think it defines a lot of my personality so I thought id share it.   Let me preempt this by saying, I don’t think this makes me a better person. I’m a habitual scumbag, I just happen to notice the plight of others from time to time when I’m not wrapped up in being outstandingly selfish. Justin (one of the few I’ve disclosed this to) told me he thought it would make a good post some day. I instantly regret this decision. Here goes…

So, it’s like 1995 and I’m in 6^th grade. (Before any of you stop reading right now, yes I know that you were probably in law school or finishing college or had 4 children or whatever in 96’, and you’re remarking about that right now… but you come to ME for your fitness needs so that’s egg on your face.) It goes without saying that I was about as cool a 6^th grader as there ever was. I was popular, I lifted weights, I was on the super cool flag football team etc. I was a “cool” kid in every sense of the word, and I have little time for anyone not of similar stature at this point… hopefully that paints the picture adequately.

One absolutely torrentially raining morning we (mom and me) were tardy and I had nothing on my mind besides getting out of the rain, my awesome life and getting into the back of the class where I could be awesome and disruptive as usual. As I threw open the door of my mom’s car I noticed out of the corner of my eye that someone had fallen down in the wet grass not 3 feet from me.   I knew the kid, he had MS, or Polio, or something that caused him to become noticeably disabled. Legs turned in, hands and arms curled up, very thick glasses. He usually looked down as he walked, and tried not to make a big deal about himself or his disability. Everyone knew who he was, and everyone completely “nothinged” him. To this day I don’t know his name. No one was mean to this kid, but no one went out of the way to be kind to him either.

So here he is, it’s raining, HARD. Its 8am and he’s fallen into the mud. His books, his pants, his homework, all into the puddle they went.   I remember vividly watching him look down at his hands that were covered in filth, and looking like “fuck me… really? I’ve got the whole day ahead of me!!” Do you know what I did? Yeah, I walked RIGHT passed him. I didn’t even look in his direction, as I literally had to step around him to go on my merry way. For 8 hours, I didn’t give him another thought.

When my mom picked me up that day, I could tell that she had been recently crying furious tears. She proceeded to in grave detail tell me what had occurred, and how she was completely embarrassed that she had raised someone who had obviously become so selfish and callous that he didn’t even ASK if the young man WANTED help.   Mom told me what made it worse was that someone so obviously physically capable should be there to protect those who so obviously aren’t. That hit me right in the heart. Hell, he might have been perfectly capable of dealing with his own shit and declined help out of pure pride (understandable) but to not even ask someone so obviously in need was an egregious offense. I felt like garbage. (Never asked mom if she got out of the car and helped him herself EITHER, but that’s beside the point.)

The thought of leaving that kid out there in the muck broke me. For days on end I couldn’t think about that moment without getting choked up. I didn’t purposefully leave him hanging, I lamented, I was just was oblivious. What made it worse was feeling like my mom thought I had become heartless. To this day, Ill still get emotional when I think of that poor guy stuck in the mud, invisible to everyone around him. (This kid probably grew up to be the CEO of a Forbes 500 company and drives a Ferrari home to his supermodel wife, because he’s a better person for all that, but whatever.)

So occasionally, that memory resonates in my mind and I’m compelled to do whatever I can to make up for the moment that I did nothing. Being a little more aware, and giving myself and my time in the moments that feel inconvenient, irritating, or off-putting have made me a better business owner, coach, friend husband and father.

Go the extra mile in your athletic, nutritional and business ventures. That will make you a great athlete, crossfitter or cyborg, master of the universe; whatever you aspire to. However, don’t forget to go the extra mile when it comes to being a person from time to time. Being present in those moments will bode well for your soul no matter what deity you do or do not subscribe to.