The Spirit of November Project
Dear Mr. Vogel,
November Project is a magical spirit. In Washington, DC the spirit lives in the statue of Abe and in steps in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Every Wednesday, the Tribe comes from miles around to wake up the spirit. We gather at 5:30 and 6:30 and say hello to each other, with an anticipatory smile and the occasional yawn.
Then we bounce. A happy bounce that wakes up the spirit, bringing it out from the concrete and marble and into the air. It gives our feet the energy to bounce higher. It gives our arms the willingness to hug both strangers and friends who surround us. It gives our lungs the capacity to chant and sing and cheer. It opens our eyes the ability to see the beauty that surrounds us.
What do we see? We see old and young, black, white and every shade in between, professionals, professional athletes, and those just beginning to jog, gay and straight, Christian, Jews, and Muslims, Republicans and Democrats. We all come together to be fit, to connect with each other, to spread positivity, to make friends, to smile, and to make the city our playground.
We each have our own personal story, a special way that the spirit touches us, fulfilling something deep in our souls that keeps us coming back for more.
Here’s how it goes for me… After over a decade of playing competitive rugby, I had come to define myself as a rugger. The team is where I easily formed most of my closest friends, met my wife, found my community, and pushed my body to perform. As I faced the end of that phase of my life, I wondered (worried) about what was next. The week after our last tournament, we decided to try out November Project, which meets at the Lincoln Memorial.
Here, I was able to find joy in fitness. I learned that you can connect with people by doing NP-style high-five push-ups instead of working on rugby defense. Teamwork is not just in a scrum, but also in pulling your partner up from the NP hoisty-squat things.
But mostly, I bask in the glory of the stairs.
I’ve come to see the stairs as microcosm of the challenges and stages of life. We start at the bottom with a couple manageable, medium-sized sets of stairs to get warmed up. Then a patch of easy, flat ground to speed up. Then a few small sets of stairs in a long row to comfortably work your endurance.
And finally, the “big ones” to the top. The big ones are hard. The ones that we have to push through. The ones that leave our muscles aching. The ones that leave us panting. But we always get to the top, each at our own speed. A personal achievement, encouraged by each other. We climb that physical and metaphorical mountain.
Then I round that massive column (still panting), and look up. I see the symbolic obelisk, The Washington Monument, surrounded by a pink or orange sunrise, or a blue sky with a bright yellow sun, or some crazy fog or clouds.
I snap out of my own head, and have an “Oh my” moment. I remember how lucky I am. To live in this country. To live in this city. To be able to run. To be able to run free. All of this is thanks to our forefathers who are honored by the very steps where we run.
This may seem deep for 6:33 in the morning. But it happens every time. This is the spirit for me. I do it 16+ more times. We finish our workout, invigorated. The spirit stays with us all day, and all week long. The spirit helps us be the best versions of ourselves. We know that every Wednesday morning, whether it’s 9 degrees or 90 degrees, in sun, rain, or snow, we will return, together, to reawaken the November Project spirit.
For us, the spirit is personified by Lincoln and represented by the memorial. We call a lap of the stairs a “(Lincoln) Log.” We take a picture after every workout with “straight backs, straight faces” to mirror Lincoln standing behind us. The outline of the memorial adorns our home-made T-shirts.
Mr. Vogel — Can you grant a spirit a permit? I sure hope so, because I can’t imagine my life without it.
Sincerely,
Rachel Wardley