In October of 2022, I stepped on the scale at Impact Fitness in Auburn, and the number was 227.  The following day, I looked at myself in the mirror and was disgusted with myself.  I went to work, opened my laptop, and went through the first thing in the morning ritual of reading my E-mails. There were humdrum messages about easily handled matters, and there were others.  I answered the ones I had to, held on to the ones I had to think about, and moved on. But with my job, I was disgusted.   How the hell did I get here?  Why am I treated this way?  I asked myself.  Whenever I thought I had life in me, something or someone was there sucking it right out of me.  The day ended, and I went home…late as usual.  I was late for a party.  Within a few hours, disgusted became defeated, and I went to bed - after several glasses of wine.  Before I closed my eyes, my final thought was to run as fast as possible and jump off the Prudential.  Tongue and cheek, I was curious whether I could stick a landing on Boylston St or not.

I know this reads terribly.  But it is true.  It was just a thought, albeit no good.  Fast forward to today.  First thing this morning, I stepped on my ultra-accurate digital scale, and the new number is 187.  Having slept the requisite 8 hours for healthy living, I went through my AM ritual – 10 ounces of cold water, black coffee, and a quick 10-minute run through the downstairs, cleaning. I got some cobwebs this morning. I am thirteen days before 50 now, more alive than I’ve been in a decade – I walked out to my deck thinking about the energy thing…. the Universe, as many say.  I wonder how and why we feel the way we do and the impact others have on us, and when I am at my very best, I can feel sorry for the people who relished my being in a darker place.  I thought about my decisions that brought me these elevated feelings and those who helped me get here. 

I want to stay in this oxygen-filled, sunny, hydrated space.  I keep a calendar of my activities, and today, I noted that I drank beverages containing alcohol only twice in August.  I am moving faster, getting more done, and connecting with friends, new…and old.  Which brings me to today’s point.  Last night, I had an hour + long video call with one of my life’s lanterns.  I could see in her eyes and hear in her words she was drifting in and out of that space.  The one in which fear is driving every thought.  Where I was when I couldn’t work enough to take care of all of the bills, have the kids participate in their sports, take my wife to dinner, vacations, and have time to work on Luca’s pro-social development. And even when I did, I had to worry about losing my job because someone did not like me.  It is hard to get out of that space.  Hard. 

At some point in the convo, I recognized a sort of disappearance.  Resolution defines her heart and soul, the most attractive toughness a person could have.   Always steadfast in what “has to be done,” she was in the “what on earth do I do now realm.”  Then I asked a simple question, “Where are you from?”  And that was just about it.  The look in her eyes changed, and with a prompt – a reminder – she was back. 

You see, Niagara Falls, NY, in the 1980’s and 1990’s was a “you pay now, or you pay later” type of place - one way or the other, you pay.  In Niagara Falls, grudges don’t just last lifetimes – they get passed on to the kids and their kids, too.  I haven’t spoken to my brother in a decade.  My niece got married last week, and I wasn’t invited. See what I mean? Then, in the words of MC Hammer, either work hard or you might as well quit.  The EnEffers reading this know what I am talking about.  (EnEffer = NF, or Niagara Falls for those outside its confines).  I am here; Ryan is in Atlanta, Jamie is in DC, my sister is in Rochester, and Tyler is in Wisconsin.  They worked hard.  Anthony is dead.  Died in his car in his garage in 2013.  Great wrestler, funny as hell, and a good friend.  He quit. 

This morning, through the magic of Facebook, I connected with two other friends.  Christian Printup, now the Vice President of Entertainment at Foxwoods, and James Ventry, now an author!  James is a year ahead of me in all aspects of life.  Graduated first, got into Buff State first, then Niagara University first. He got his first teaching gig before me, too.  Ironically, he published his book before mine, as well.

James was a good wrestler but a better boxer.  And not the kind of boxer that sits at a bar and runs his mouth after his 6th.  Nor is he the kind who walks around with bloody knuckles from hitting a bag too stupid to have his hands wrapped. (I have a story about this guy in the book).  He’s the kind who fought on ESPN.  The last time I saw him, and Christian, was when James fought at the Lowell Memorial Auditorium.  Christian was his manager, and I got to sit ringside, in James’ corner.  A 40-year-old fighting a 20-year-old.  I was like, dude, you are crazy.  James is among the nicest people you will meet.  A smart EnEffer, well-spoken, and thoughtful.  But don’t be fooled.  He’d knock you out quick, and there’s nothing that you could do about it. 

Take a look at James’ book The Hypocrisy of America.  Available on audio too.  Now I have to bring this all back to the education system somehow.  A short message here.  It is hard work to get better, to be healthy.  In schools, we are in a constant flux of reorganization trying to get better by messing with the structure and motivated only by panic.  Motivation without panic is one of the goals I’ve put forth this year.  We’ve got a job to do – and through ecology, we are going to make it happen.  We need to breathe life into one another to make it happen for our kids. Working hard, never quitting.