No Room For Egos

The idea for this post came the other night while I was watching So You Think You Can Dance (and for the record, no, I don't think I can dance. I KNOW I can't dance beyond my slightly spastic "happy jigs" but I love watching this show. It's completely my guilty pleasure.). There were the requisite amazing dancers, the heartbreak stories, 1 Exorcist dancer, 2 absolutely A-Dorable kids, and the "I'm really embarrassed for you" dancers. There was one guy who was autistic and while his skills were not the greatest, he looked so happy while dancing, and to be honest, he was pretty fluid with some of his moves. The whole crowd went wild, as did the judges. They didn't send him through of course, but he was told to never stop dancing because it really just made him light up, and it really did. I genuinely enjoyed watching him dance, and he had a lot of guts and courage to get up on that stage. This was his performance:

BTW, digging the cape.

They cut to commercial leaving you with warm fuzzies after that, and then come back to....Mr. Gerbil Douche Guy. Ok, that's not really his name, but that's what I've decided to call him. Take a look for yourself:

From the start we see that he's a dick, hates the show, so on and so forth. What got to me though, was his belief that even though someone works really hard and has a great, motivated mindset, they don't deserve to be recognized if they aren't knock-you-on-your-ass amazing at what they do. And that's where I start to get upset.

Here's the thing. The fitness community is huge. Like, HUGE. It encompasses a huge amount of sports, competitions, training styles, etc. I've fallen in love with obstacle racing and the community that comes with it.  To be honest, as much as I love pushing myself and running around what is essentially a huge playground, one of the things I love most about them are the people that are out there. So many sports are all about the individual and that can create a feeling of almost isolation, in a sense. Everyone is out there to try to beat the people around them. I'm not dissing that, for the record. It's just not for me.

I remember the first time I realized there was something different about the people at these obstacle races: it was during my first Spartan Race in 2010 in Navasoto, TX. There were only around 700 competitors for that race, and my best friend Frannie and I were two of them. At one point we came across a super tall wall that neither one of us could get over by ourselves. Out of nowhere, a tall guy came up and offered to help us out, and we gladly accepted. From that point on, we would kind of leap frog with him, each of us calling encouragement to the others. It was fantastic and it left such an amazing feeling for both of us.

Our newfound buddy

My next memorable experience was at my first Tough Mudder in January 2011. I was running in a team of four, including my trainer Andre', his friend Alex and Alex's brother Chris. Near the end, Chris's calves cramped up so severely that you could literally have fit your fist in the indention that it made. Seriously, worst looking thing EVER. Andre' is on the ground, trying to stretch out Chris's calves so that the cramp goes away and-no exaggeration- every single person that ran by asked if we needed help. EVERY. SINGLE.ONE. It didn't matter if they were walking or hauling balls, they made sure to ask. It was absolutely incredible and made me incredibly proud to say that I was a Tough Mudder after that.

Andre' giving me a "hand"

Last August I found out I made it into the Tough Mudder year-end finale race, World's Toughest Mudder. This was an exclusive event in that you either had to qualify for the race based on your running time at a Tough Mudder previously in the year or qualify by earning a Wild Card spot. I'll give you two guesses as to how I qualified. I quickly found a Facebook group page started by top obstacle racing athlete and founder of the blog Dirt in Your Skirt, Margaret Schlachter. Initially there were probably around 30 of us on that group page, sharing info, asking questions about gear, training, etc. In no time, it felt like we had all become friends, despite never having met before. One person, Todd Sedlak, suggested we all get these yellow reflective armbands to be able to find each other at the race. We even came up with a team name for the group, the WTF's. Now, what that stands for depends on who you ask-What The F*ck's, World's Toughest F*ckers, or World's Toughest Friends. Our numbers grew to 200 by the time the race came about in December. What I thought was great was even though we had some people with experience by the boatload and more knowledge on some of this stuff than I could ever DREAM of knowing, none of them were boastful or condescending. In fact, anyone who attempted any kind of douche-baggery were quickly shut down by some of the more vocal people in the group. Initially I was afraid to ask stuff I thought people would think were stupid or to admit what I was worried about. It wasn't long before I realized that this group of people were the biggest support group I'd ever have access to. I admitted my fear of the Electroshock Therapy (HATE) and before I knew it, I had multiple people telling me they'd help me get through it together, and admitting their own fears. (Special shout out to Joel Gat for offering to piss his pants along side me before barreling through it) The two days I spent in NJ meeting these wonderful people were two of the best days of my life. We're literally an extended family now and it's an awesome feeling knowing that there's a whole group of people out there I could go to for help or support if I need it. To me, these are the people that exemplify the racing community.

Me and a few of my WTF peeps: Audrey, Roxanne (aka Momma Meeker) and Sam

And then there's the GORUCK Challenge. Because I've written a ton more than I meant to, I'll keep this one short. I've never seen such an amazingly supporting, motivating, fun loving, (alcohol fueled) group of people. These people rock my face off.

So this leads me to my little soap box, which is kind of two-fold. By all mean, strive to constantly improve your skills, be faster, stronger, have your beast mode set to the On position at all times, etc. And yes, you'll be better than other people in lots of stuff; hell, even I'm better than some people at...something I'm sure. But there will always be people better than you too. So before anybody decides to pull out their Douchebag card and get to talking crap about how they're better than everyone (dude near us at the starting line for Spartan Race-that my friend Daniel beat-I'm looking at you), or if you literally push someone out of the way so that you can do an obstacle first and decide that screaming at people to hurry up because they're ruining your time is a good idea (Shirtless guy who won at MetroDash, looking at you), remember that fact.

We all started somewhere, we've all had moments where we've felt like we aren't good enough, fast enough, strong enough, and we've all needed help somewhere along the way on our journey to being bad asses. So while you may be a beast, keep in mind that just because you may be better AT something than someone, that doesn't make you better THAN them.

The second part of my soapbox goes to those who are just starting out. I hear so often from people I know who are too embarrassed to go to the gym because they're overweight and they don't want people laughing at them. No one should EVER feel like they'd be laughed at for trying to better themselves. I don't care if you're 150 pounds or 400 pounds, or if you're wearing shorts and a baggy shirt or some 80's style unitard; if you're doing something, anything to change your life for the better you deserve mad props in my book.

We are all one big community with essentially the same goal-leading better, stronger lives and constantly striving to push ourselves to the next level. We are the only one's who truly understand the lifestyle, sacrifices and commitment that it takes, and so we owe it to one another to help each other. If you're at a race or even just jogging on the trail and you see someone who looks like they're OVER it, give them an encouraging word. Offer to run beside them for a minute or two, or at the very least just slow your roll and make sure they're ok. After all, wouldn't you want someone to do that for you?