How many life changing interactions have you really had? I’m talking times with another person that literally changes the fabric of who you are, the perspective you have on life. I feel like life changing person to person interactions are things of fiction, or at least look a lot better in fiction. I like to think that these ones that truly shape our existence, however, count for something more, like bonus life points or something. Those pretty heart to hearts that happen in books and movies are way less common in real life, and they DEFINITELY aren’t understood at the time, or at least not understood soon enough to have the tear filled embrace that seals it as a “this one changed me” time. More like on the drive home wiping tears away so you can see until you AHA! and realize you don’t have their number anymore because you deleted it after you tearfully said goodbye. Ok maybe a lot of my life changing interactions have been breakups. Whatever. I feel like personal soundtracks would help a lot with these. Like the crescendo of Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees” cued up and ready for me anytime a brain cell locks in a life changing experience would really be sick.
Anyways. I had one of these talks with a man named John White that truly changed me. I think about it probably on a weekly basis. This talk occurred about 6 years ago before I got into CrossFit. I was at a crossroads in my life in a big, big way. I had left college baseball coaching and ultimately had no idea what to do. I thought I wanted to join the Army and become a Special Forces operator but an eyesight issue nixed that real quick. I was definitely that cliche dude who fantasized about being the next Rambo and definitely would have been the first in my team to step on an IED. Anyways, so there I was, 27 years old with a fresh new Master’s in Education and $0 paycheck or the slightest prospect of one in sight. The latter was mainly because I had 0% idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Make that -5000% idea.
My Dad being the insanely successful man he is was setting me up with everyone he knew to talk about job prospects. Most of these were just hour long catch up sessions that ended in them asking why the hell I left coaching baseball. I really didn’t have an answer because the truth was I couldn’t stomach the fact that I would have to be willing to up and move to Wichita, Kansas on a whim if I really wanted to make it. Moving to Wichita would be just under drinking 15 saline laxative cocktails and doing 250 BW back squats with no pants on and the entire Lando membership watching.
One of these meetings however was breakfast with John White, a breakfast I think about almost every time I eat breakfast. I found myself looking very forward to this setup mainly because I loved Mr. White and also because the buffet at the Langham is straight up LEGIT. I had no idea that I was going to hypothetically get kicked squarely in the balls so hard that I wouldn’t eat a bite of my granola and yogurt, something that was a topic of disdain among many other things about my current situation to John.
I’ll spare the details but as I have said I think about this all the time. I can still vividly remember so much about this breakfast, from the table we sat at, the way the coffee tasted, what I was wearing. So many details because so many little things ended up meaning so much, every word he said sticking with me in ways no other conversation has. One thing that hit me particularly hard, which I guess set the tone for the whole shindig since it happened before we even sat down, was his lack of loving embrace I was expecting. We ended up having one of those awkward half bro hugs when one person goes handshake and the other goes hug, which was made even worse by the fact that he was a 60 year old man that looked like Santa Claus and was 5’5″. What I always remember was he looked me square in the eye and said “sit down”. Never before had someone so small in stature owned me so completely.
What proceeded was 60 minutes of being so thoroughly dressed down in a way that I never had been and never will again. I was completely obliterated, chewed up and spit out, eviscerated by this small, almost feeble, 60 year old man who looked like Santa Claus, yet I hung on every word he spoke like I was in the presence of Pedro Martinez talking to me about pitching 1 on 1 during the 2001 season (I like pitching, and Pedro Martinez). I was enthralled and ecstatic as he attacked every part of the person I was in front of him. Presence, posture, demeanor, life choices. 28 and jobless with the setup I had was borderline pathetic according to him. He attacked my attire (crapy jeans and a Polo), my posture, my “mope” as he called it. Rather than build me up with the same how great I am and all I need to do is apply myself to something and I’ll get where I want to go talk I had received in all my previous setups, Mr. White gave it to me straight. This is what changed me. Rather than feed me the same old shit I got from all the people who had the power and ability to truly change me, John White took a Wednesday morning breakfast with one of his friend’s kids as a chance to make a difference in someone’s life. He nailed it.
After we finished he stood up, told me it is the last time he will pay for one of my meals and I should teach myself to expect the same from everyone I meet, looked me straight in the eye and said “Do the right thing.”. With that he left, not looking back or caring to notice me standing like a wooden indian as he traversed the 100 meter long lobby of the hotel. I think I passed out. I left and walked around Post Office Square for an hour and eventually made it home to Charlestown by 2pm in a complete daze. Hours seemed like minutes or maybe days, I really didn’t know. I had never felt so beaten and simultaneously awoken in my entire life. I credit this breakfast to so much of who and where I am today. In case you didn’t get that by now.
To say life works in weird and unexpected ways is cliche and dumb, but cliches and dumbness exist for a reason, and that reason is they, well, exist. The daily grind is awful, not because of the reasons we see from the usual Monday Facebook posts but because it lulls us into a hypnosis that causes us to miss out on these fictional moments. Fiction is made from reality, right? Shit I just made that up. I wish I could say we should be prepared but we can’t. The only thing to do is put ourselves in as many situations as possible that might change our lives. Personally I am the worst at this. I spent a lot of my life making sure I knew where every social line was, from being too cool to just cool enough, a poser to a pretender, I knew it all and never crossed one. The problem was I became a boring, vanilla mid 20’s guy who every person I walked past could tell who I was without me speaking a word. What John White taught me was so much can change in an hour. How many hours we have each day!
Sometimes I stay awake at night wondering what happens when we die. I wonder what happens to our mind, the thoughts we have, the memories that shape us. What happens to the person we area internally, the person that has taken years and years and so many encounters and experiences to shape? Does it just stop existing? I feel like that isn’t fair. Maybe if we create so many of these interactions and have our lives changed and shaped enough in a mind blowing way we just never die?
THURSDAY
Strength : Push Press
3-3-3-3-3
WOD : 10m AMRAP
10 Box Jumps 24/20 (full stand)
10 Wall Ball 20/14
10 Push-Ups (hand release)
S : Step Ups, 9′ target
L1 : Scaled box jumps, lighter MB
Rx + : 30/24, 24/16# ball
The Program : Rest
