February 24, 2009 is a day that I will never be able to forget. At times I have wanted to, often desperately. Yet other times I cling to the memory as if it were the very heartbeat inside of my own chest. It was eight years ago and not a day has passed since that I have not thought often of that day and how absolutely blessed I am to still be alive.
For the sake of the reader, I won’t dilly-dally in the details. The whole REDFriday experience was, for me, born out of that day. I have shared the story only a very few times and never without tears, though this morning’s version may have been the driest one yet. Maybe time does heal pain. I’m not certain.
On that fateful day near Kandahar, Afghanistan, another man gave his life for mine in the most literal fashion. He was, to me, the very definition of a hero. No movies, no books, no speaking tours. He wasn’t a spec ops guy. Heck, he wasn’t even full-time Army. But, make no mistake, he is the epitome of a hero.
Sgt. Scott Stream freed this ole wretch from a disabled vehicle and bought me the three seconds (which felt more like three hours) to scamper far enough away from the vehicle to remain alive while I watched some BS homemade IED detonate and take the life of one of the best men I’ve ever known. I’m alive today because he is not.
A statement like that comes loaded for bear. It weighs on the life essence of a man, especially one who was taught from his earliest days to be a sheepdog, to always run toward danger and not away from it just in case someone needed help. It derails the life of a man and his family for as long as the man allows it to do so, which often times ends in a man taking his own life. Again, I have been very blessed by those around me to keep me from ending my own story in that fashion, though there were times where it seemed much more preferable to the guilt and shame of a survivor.
But I digress.
Four pax joined me this morning to honor Stream with a workout which I took the liberty of designing myself and adding to the list of Hero WODs for REDFriday (Thanks, MeterMaid). I have only cried twice during a workout, both were while doing this WOD. I imagine that will be a trend.
The four men alongside me I have grown quite fond of because I know I can count on them to empty their tanks. And if the ish ever got hairy like it did that day eight years ago I am confident they would do the exact same thing because they proven it time and again in the gloom. The embrace the suck. They look for the hardest option. They run toward the danger. My kind of folks. There are a number of others as well.
These are the guys who will assure you that they are pressing. Bitch. (Inside REDFriday joke.)
These moments like this morning make all the difference in how our view of each other is shaped. There is nothing worse to me than looking over at the guy next to me and watching him give a half-ass effort. Okay, there is one thing worse – looking over and seeing a guy giving half-ass effort while his partner lays it all on the line.
You see, the workout is the laboratory and practice field. If we dog it and quit in the workout, then we are much more likely to do so later that day. Love it or hate it, that’s reality. That is why always choosing the harder thing = RESPECT.
Stream goes like this:
3 RFT:
- 10 pull-ups
- 20 burpees
- 30 thrusters
- 40 KB swings
- 50 box jumps
- 400m run
Times went like this:
- Jugz – 31:33
- BabyBlu – 32:22
- Sugar – 32:23
- Sour – 32:27
Those three fellas above straight up killed it this morning. Even made Sour sweat for the first time in months. Sour said that’s because it’s been so cold. And he is sticking to that story.
Right there at the end, I heard a noise that sounded like Capri running from a band angry chihuahuas. Turns out Sour hasn’t lost his ability to sweet talk folks. Somehow he managed to talk Sugar and BabyBlu into a foot race at the end. BabyBlu was a little out in front of Sugar and Sour on the final run. So Sour said to Sugar, “We gotta catch Blu.”
Sugar, being the dynamite friend he is and looking to get credit for his sprinting ability (that’s why he does anything he does – to get credit for it. At least that’s what we learned from the sockless wonder over lunch at Sour’s, er, I mean, Mig’s), turned on the jets. Blu could hear the pitter patter of little footsteps and could also hear Sour saying, “Here we come! We’re gonna catch you!” Blu being the All-American (no, seriously, he was an All-American end at El Cid just before they banned leather helmets) would not be outdone and turned on those dang near double-respect jets.
It was a photo finish and Blu made sure to thank Sour for the close race. Of course, Sugar took exception to this to which Blu responded, “Oh, that was you, Sugar? I thought it was Sour cuz I could hear him talking!”
I have done my best to make the last 15 seconds of the workout sound interesting because there was literally zero mumblechatter. The motors were all running well beyond red line and only the occasional “Good work” could be exchanged between breaths.
It was, as always, an honor and a pleasure to serve these men as the Q this morning. I honestly was hoping that no one showed up so that I could sulk in my misery alone. Thanks, BabyBlu, Sour and Sugar for posting alongside me today. I really needed you and you were there. Aye.
Not sure what they say in the Army, but in the Navy (HOOYAH!) we say fair winds and following seas. . .So, fair winds and following seas, Sgt. Stream. I’ve been missing you for eight long years, brother.