Dear Mr. Vogel and Ms. Vietzke,

The week I started going to November Project could have been the worst of my life. I was in the middle of an incredibly challenging and stressful Masters program, commuting to Baltimore daily, and had just ended a particularly devastating relationship.

I could have drowned myself in a box of wine, or sunk into self-pity. Instead, I got up at 5:30am and met my friends Lisa and Julie on the steps of the Lincoln. I was hugged by strangers who didn’t know my pain. They didn’t have to.

From the top of the Memorial, I watched the sun rise and, in that moment, for the first time in a long time, decided to focus on myself. This community lifted me up when I was at my lowest point.

The view from the top of the stairs at my first Wednesday workout

I can’t claim to be a regular attendee of November Project due to travel over the last few months, but I wear my grassroots gear proudly wherever I go. It reminds me of the indelible community that awaits me back home.

Grassroots gear is a comfort to both man and beast (even when said beast is about to become Thanksgiving dinner)

Like the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial or the hills at Meridian Hill Park, November Project has been and will continue to be there when I need it most — when I’m feeling less than my full worth. I leave every workout feeling energized, knowing even if I’m dealt a bad hand, I can always look forward to Monday, Wednesday, or Friday morning.

-Caitie H [November Project DC]