Life Support
Dear Mr. Vogel,
Powering through the steepest, top-most steps of the Lincoln Memorial, I could feel the burn. My new friends at November Project will fondly recall the typical burn of the climax of our sacred “Lincoln Log.” This wasn’t that kind of burn- I’d had chorizo con juevos with a tear-soaked napkin’s worth of salsa the night before. It was PR day and I found myself clocking in at Stall #4 of Abe’s personal WC on my 9th log. What was normally the best part of my week — watching the sun rise behind the Washington Monument, admiring Abe’s square-toed boots at the top of the steps, and feeling entirely energetic and focused in the office — was making me wish the snooze button, like most movies these days, had two, three or ten unnecessary sequels that morning.
I emerged from the restroom feeling upset and inadequate. I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish the workout and the toilet paper was of a quality that would have been appreciated at the nearest meat market. Despite my struggles con juevos, I remembered to focus on the one thing that we at November Project do best — cheering and supporting our fellow NPers to give their all and bring out their best.
With a gratuitous number of family members and a cushy life in Texas, I’ve had the privilege of always having a strong support system through the toughest times. When I was a kid and too under-sized and gangly to be involved with school sports, it was nurturing that my cousins didn’t mind when I joined for Sunday-morning basketball or severely rule-bending football. When my father passed away when I was 18, it was comforting that two weeks later I found myself entrenched in an incredibly uplifting community at Rice University.
Now having lived in DC for nine months, the November Project community has picked up where the others left off in helping me acclimate to my first home outside of Texas and pushing me to stay conscientiously positive at all times. Every MWF morning, you can count on 100 or more people who actively want you to vicariously conquer life’s challenges through the challenges of the workout. One more burpee is overcoming one more sleepless night. One more squat-jump is one more lesson learned. One more Lincoln Log is one more friend made. Most of all, one show-up is one day started off right.
So as the last of the community were coming down the steps and through the clamoring human cheer tunnels we’d built for them, as my housemate who I ritualistically go to November Project with playfully reminded me that I PRed anyway because it was my first time, and as I was battling through the worst of chorizo hangovers, I couldn’t help but feel that we have something special going on here. Mr. Vogel and the rest of the National Park Service, please hear us when we say that these “large organized weekly exercise programs” have only improved people’s lives.
Sincerely,
Mishal Thadani
rc ‘se �ۚ�/1
