What About The Race?

The race was on August 7.  Ironman Boulder, a full 140.6 miles.  I came to finish 140.6 miles.  I didn't care about time, I didn't care about finishing ahead of anyone, I didn't care about my rank.  I was driven by one thing.  I was driven by the desire for others to remember my angel, Carson.

I would love to run through the whole race experience for you and walk you through all of my feelings and what was happening at any given time, but that is not why I was there, and that is not why you are here.  

There was a craziness in the air for the whole week.  We went to spend some extra time in Denver with family.  It was fun, but all of my events were overshadowed by the looming uncertainty.  I was distracted.  I did my absolute best to be present for as much as I could, but it was nearly impossible.  We did some touristy things and family things, we had fun, but as much as the race was a distraction, we were also missing one little boy who would have loved everything that was going on.

Missing Carson is no longer something new, but it was definitely magnified over race week.  We all knew what drove me to be in Boulder.  We knew what drove my training.  We knew what was going to push me through 140.6 miles.

Over the day, I was feeling good.  Up at 2:30ish and grabbing a coffee.  Got everyone ready and transition opened up at 4:00 I think.  Buses took us out to the lake.  I was antsy, I was uncomfortable, I had to pee.  I had been slamming water all week in an effort to at least start the race hydrated.  I guess it worked!

I made it through the swim and transitioned to my bike.  The transition took a little longer than planned, but it was a welcome sit.  I got slathered with sunscreen, gave the family kisses and hopped on my trusty steed.  I felt great and talked with Carson and prayed for a long time.  There were big hills, there were little hills and there were false flats.

As I approached one intersection I saw firetrucks and an ambulance go across the road and stop shortly after that.  Course attendants ushered us around what appeared to be a bike crash.  Later in the day, I would find out that we lost an Ironman that day.  Her name was Michelle and she was from a town near North Platte, NE, where I live.  I will be running in her memorial triathlon this coming year.

About 70 miles into the bike, I started to feel awful, my body didn't want to put any food or water in, but I forced it.  I knew that I was putting forth lots of energy and needed to reload calories as best I could.  I think maybe I overdid it a little.

Coming into T-2 I was wasted.  I saw my parents at the transition and I heard my mom say, "this isn't good."  My dad also said, "Call Julie".  I was a hurtin unit.  I wasn't stopping.  The volunteers at the transition tent basically dressed me and got me on my way.  They were so encouraging and nice.  I couldn't think.

As I left T-2, the only thing on my mind was not giving up, there is a little boy who is pushing me all the way to the end.  I felt terrible, eating nothing but ice chips, until mile 18 of the run.  A young man named Cassidy power walked with me.  He pushed me and kept me moving.  Nice fella!

At mile 18, I chatted with the medical professionals for a while since my vision was blurry and I felt drunk.  They got me restocked on sugar and balanced back out before sending me on my way.  Cassidy and I finished strong, but we were 9 minutes late.  The finish line had closed.

I didn't care, I ran around the corral gate and chugged into the finish line.  I ran down the carpet, I ran across the line, I went 140.6.  I finished and Carson is why.  There are many other children who are part of Team Crusher, but Carson is my why.  Training and racing are my connection to a little boy who left me far too early in life.

I have promised to myself and to Carson to use his death as a motivator, as a way to bless other people.  He did not lose his life in vain because I refuse to let his death be mine.  I hope that other parents who feel this loss can find their own Ironman journey.  I hope we can all find our own way to connect and way to honor our children.  They deserve it.

From One Dad to Another

One Dad to another, this is a hard Father's Day.  One Dad to another, the road doesn't get any easier.  One Dad to another, this path we are on winds through the rest of our lives.

If I could sit down with Matt Graves, these are things that would probably come up, one dad to another.  I guess if I could have a sit-down, I would want him to know that there is hope, but it comes in the form of realizing that there is life still for us. It also comes in the fact that God has our babies and is taking great care of them.

I do not pretend to know how he feels and I will not pretend to say that I know his pain, I do not.  I know what I am going through.  I know that every morning I convince myself that getting out of bed is worth it.  I know that there are some days that I don't even realize that I am grieving until I discover how tired I am.  It won't stop any time soon, so Matt, take life at 10, 20 or 30 MPH for a while instead of at 100 MPH.  Slow down and look out for yourself.

There will be overwhelming guilt.  It will come in waves.  One minute you will understand fully that you did all you could and in the same sentence, you can believe you did nothing.  It will hit hard, you will see Lane every day.  I don't know how to tell you how to try and fix that.  Every day I see my son too.  It is hard.  It is going to be hard.

There is something important that you may not have heard about yet.  You must, especially now, pour into your marriage.  You must be there for you wife and you must ask her for help.  Neither of you can do this alone and that is why you got married because you didn't want to.  Hold your wife while she does nothing but cry.  Hold her until she knows that you will not let her go.  Sometimes just holding her is more important than saying anything.  Our words can never stack up to our actions.  Both of you will probably lash out at each other.  Realize that this is simply emotion and just holding each other can start a real conversation.

Most important, pray with your wife.  You might be mad at God, but he is prepared for that.  You might not think that He is out for your best interest, but this was not His "plan".  He is not "testing" you.  He is crying with you, he is holding Lane close and loving him harder than we can even imagine.

From one Dad to another, the pain is real, how we deal with it is real and the road is a lifetime long.  I am so sorry that you have to go through this.  I am sorry that you are part of a club that nobody wants to be in, but we take care of each other.

Familiar But Foreign

Swim, that's all you have to do.  It is no different than any other swim work out you have done.  I was psyching myself up to hit the 50 meter pool as opposed to the 25 yard pool I have been swimming in through the winter and spring.  It's not a big deal, it is outside, so that is different.  Overall, there will be water, lane lines and probably other people swimming.  That is about it.

I hit the water, it felt familiar, but entirely foreign.  I have never worked out in an outdoor 50 meter pool before.  I tried to get mentally ready, but when my times were much slower in this pool vs my regular pool, it hit me right in the confidence.  I tried to justify it and couldn't.  I was in such a frustrated state attempting to justify why my 100 was so much slower, I forgot meters are about 10% longer than yards.  So yes, it was fine that my times were a little slower.  It's all good!

It got me thinking about how I handle my grief at different times, in different situations.  I can psych myself up, make a plan, know exactly how everything is going to go and then BANG! Something happens that isn't quite what I expected and I feel like a totally lost child in a maze of people.  Sometimes we can be so sure of how we are going to handle something and then there is a smell, or a song, or our brains insert a missed giggle here or there.  It doesn't take much and all of a sudden whatever is happening is not what we expected.  Sometimes we handle it, sometimes we freeze, sometimes we lash out in anger.  There are oodles of ways that we can react, the challenge is trying to make sure it is a healthy response to what is happening.

A healthy response is what we strive for.  It is healthy to emote, it is healthy to need a little time, it is healthy to cope through a hobby or prayer or physical fitness.  Self medication or abuse is not healthy.  Sleeping for days on end or seclusion are not healthy.  Developing a relationship with Christ is the best way to start responding in a healthy way.  Christ has plans for us and can see a picture so big that we can't even comprehend it.  When you can lean on Christ, you don't have to try to lean on people that will sometimes be there for you and sometimes won't.  If you are counting on a person to cope for you, or even someone that you become codependent with, you are coping in an unhealthy way.  What happens when that person wears out or something happens and they get injured or move away?  Christ is permanent, He is not going anywhere.

So when you get into a new situation, a new pool.  When things are familiar, but not the same. What are you going to do?  What is going to happen next?  Are you going to choose to respond in a healthy way?  Yes, with the help of Jesus.  Find someone who knows Jesus or simply pick up your bible and start reading in the middle somewhere.  Meet Him.  Yell at Him. Talk to Him.  Love Him.  Hate Him.  Scream, Cuss, Cry to Him.  He can handle it and you won't be the first to do any of that.

Consistency and Persistence

April 28, 2015 was not really a day of note for anyone but me.  It wasn't a day where the world stopped for anything, it wasn't super sad and I didn't conquer anything.

Let start at the 27th.  The night of the Kids portion of the James O'Rourke Triathlon.  The older boys raced and did awesome.  Later that night, Julie and I told them how awesome they are and my oldest son informed me, in fewer words, that I was a lazy, fat dad and I would not run a triathlon before I was 30.

Back to the 28... The James O'Rourke triathlon was run by many people, none of them were me.  My mother was one of them.  My mom ran, completed and totally ravaged that race!  My buddy Bobby also raced and won that day.  Between the two of them, I was in a serious bout of inspiration and motivation.  When we got back to the house after the race my heart was heavy and was I knew that it was time to do something.  So Caleb, my oldest, and I grabbed some shorts, some shoes and went for a run.  We made it almost a mile and a half.  He was bouncing all over the place and running circles around me.  I was dying!  I think I put out about 12.4 gallons of sweat and my heart was beating at about 122% of max heart rate.  I will stop there, but the point of the story is that I was super out of shape and it looked like my son was right.  I was a fat, lazy dad.

So that is where my journey started.  290 lbs, out of shape, round, sad, out of control eating and trying to get my feelings in check.  I didn't really have a direction.  My daily goals involved making it to sundown without losing my mind.  April 28 was the day that I found direction and decided to get start a journey that would end on July 27 in Ogallala, NE in a sprint triathlon.  500 yards of swimming, 16 Miles of biking and a 5K of running.  How was I supposed to know that I was going to get hooked?

That race was awesome.  It was painful, it was long, it was an adventure and it was a goal reached and accomplished.  It was truly a powerful day for me, for us.  At that point I was racing for Carson.  Carson and I made it together.  It took 1 hour and 57 minutes but I did it.

There I was, lost again.  Now what?  I heard about another race in September.  I got too excited and injured myself trying to train harder than I should have.  I strained a muscle in my calf and the second race was a no go.

A little while later I figured out what the direction was.  Team Crusher was born and Ironman training was the vehicle to accomplishing new and exciting things.  So every week for the last year, I have trained 5-6 days or there abouts.  I am very fortunate to have the people in my life that have supported me and pushed me to accomplish things that I couldn't have alone.

I have learned some stuff over the last year.  I have learned about how far I think I can push myself.  I have learned about how consistency is key in defining how your days go.  I have learned that persistence doesn't get you to the starting line, but it's a damn fine finisher.

My grief has motivated me instead of dragging me down.  This is it.  This is the key.  Harnessing the energy of grief is not easy because grief, though it sucks your energy, it has an energy of its own.  You have to work with the energy the best you can.  Some days will be easier and some will be tough, but that is where consistency comes in.

Consistency is what you choose to do the most often.  Every day, you wake up and do what?  What is the first thing you do every day?  I consistently push snooze too many times and then look at my phone.  Every morning, I wake up, acknowledge my grief and ask God to help me push through the day.  I also say thank you for the day and for the time spent with my family.   I check instagram, facebook and I probably shouldn't, but I do.  I go to the bathroom and get to work.  Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday I am at the pool at 5:30 AM.  Work lunch hours are devoted to hitting a second training session, bike or run.  Wednesday morning is long run day, Saturday is long bike day.  Sunday is rest day.  What do you so often that you could put it on a calendar?  If you wake up every day and the first thing you do is let grief win, you are already starting on a rough road.  You have to acknowledge your grief and decide to accomplish something that day.  Consistency isn't something that you can change quickly.  Consistency in new habits, rituals and activities develops over time.  During the time of development, you have to make a conscious decision to do the activities that you want to do rather than those that it seems you are naturally attached to.  Consistency is the starting line, consistency gets you to the starting line.  Consistency gets you to the pool at 5:30 AM each day.  Consistency takes your lunch time and puts it on a bike or a run.  Consistency will not get you through when times get super hard.  Consistency is not what makes you adaptable and flexible.  This is where the line is between consistence and persistence.

Persistence gets you through the tough stuff.  When you get to the starting line, anything can happen.  This doesn't change no matter what part of life you are talking about.  Grief, love, family, friends, church, food ordering at a restaurant, you get the point.  There is not a part of any day where something can't go haywire and when it does, chances are you won't necessarily be able to drop everything and focus on what went haywire.  You may have to push through to get to the finish line.  Every workout has a starting line and a finish line.  Some workouts are smooth, 60 minutes of low heart rate, slow recovery jog, the mental part of those is simply being in it for an hour.  There are also workouts where you have to push 100% and about half way through you are so tired that you would much rather quit, but your brain has to override what your body is telling it.  You must persist through the workout to get the benefits.  So many days, at noon or part way through the afternoon or what ever, our days get derailed by emotion or by anything!  The important part is that you can see and accept those feelings for what they are and refocus on the goals you are working towards.  Persistence is an incredible finisher.  Everything will get difficult.  Racing, training, work, life, being an adult, being a human... everything.  Persistence is how we adapt and become flexible.

The combination of the two is when we become dangerous.  When you combine the drive to start with an uncompromising passion to cross the finish line, everything becomes possible.  When you find a passion and can channel the energy from your grief to drive your passion, you become unstoppable.  Your grief cannot stop you.  Your life did not end when you lost your child.  You may have wanted it to, you may feel like it did, but I have physical evidence that it didn't.  You are still here.  You are still here and if you let grief win every day, you might be setting yourself up for more regrets.  The combination of consistency and persistence can bring you back to your family, who still love you and want you around.  The combination of the two can bring you life again.  The combination will get you healthy again.  You don't have to set your sights on triathlons, that is my deal.  Your passion comes from what is therapeutic for you.  For me, a high heart rate, sweat and racing are what invigorates my memories, they are what make me feel alive and what brings back my son for a time.

If you know someone who is stuck in a funk, it is ok to talk to them.  It is ok to talk about their child or children.  It is ok to ask them questions.

Our Village, not the M. Night Shyamalan One

     The last year has taught me many lessons.  One of the most important is that people are there for you.  People are not simply there for you when you are sad, when life gets hard or when something big is happening.  People are always around and they want to support you.  They may not know how, you might push them away or you might think you just "need to do this on my own".  I call BS.
     Our family has expanded farther than I really was ever open to in the last 18 months or so.  I have always been the kind of guy who liked to think that he could "handle it".  It never really mattered what "it" was, what mattered is that I took care of business.  I was strong, independent and people relied on me, not the other way around.  I was a rock, I was a symbol of stability, I was the place that people went when they couldn't figure out where to go.  I didn't have a need for an extended family because I did not want to feel like I owed anybody anything.  I never wanted to feel indebted to others and that stood in the way of my asking for help.  It even stood in the way of being able to build a community of love around my family and myself.  
     At the core of every human is an innate need for community.  Some people are able to repress the need, cover it up, ignore it and live as if it doesn't matter.  Some people can live off in the nowheres by themselves and get along just fine.  My wife and I are not those people.  As much as I can suppress the need for community, as a family and as individuals, we flourish when we are bathed with love in community.  As much as I can "handle it" on my own, when the weight is shared and the burden is spread across the shoulders of a group of people who care more about each other than themselves, each day is no longer about survival.  The love and support you get from a community is vastly different.  This love will take you from daily survival to daily surthrival and pretty soon, you are simply thriving.
     I speak to this not only from a grief stand point, but from the aspect of training as well.  My family has been my number one support in training and for their sacrifice I will be forever grateful.  Training is not simply about a race, it is about remembering, it is about therapy for me and it is about families knowing that they are not alone.  My kids and wife are phenomenal.  Beyond them, we have been supported in many ways by many people.  When Julie went out of town and I still needed to get training done, our community, our village stepped up and helped me out.  We live 4 hours away from our own family, so dropping the kids at grandma and grandpa's house isn't an option.  The families that have taken our kids have been incredible.  The journey that we have undertaken is long, it is arduous, it will be frustrating, it will be rewarding, but most of all it will remind us what we are fighting for.  My village fights for me.  My village fights for your children.  My village remembers too.
     We are all headed down different trails, on different journeys, carrying different loads, but we don't have to do it alone.  Chances are, there is someone walking next to you on the trail who wants to help, but doesn't know how to ask and doesn't understand what you need.  They never will if you don't tell them.  Please don't walk alone.  Find a village, build a village, whatever you have to do, but don't settle for surviving when you can eventually thrive again.
     I want to thank my village one more time, because they deserve it.  Whether you have taken the kids, taken my wife, helped with training or food, asked me about training, been my mom, given us food or whatever the case may be, please know that we are extremely grateful.  You have not gone unnoticed and we love you.  So thank you.

Maundy Thursday

If you knew that tonight was the last time you would eat supper with someone that you care about, how would you treat that differently?

I am not sure. If I had known that my last night with Carson would be my last night, I am not sure that I would have changed anything. I spent the night trying to keep him comfortable enough to sleep. That means that I was snuggling, being present, an devoting all of my attention to him for about 6 hours. That is unheard of in a house with 5 kids. In a house with 5 kids, one of the challenges is to be present for all of the kids all of the time.

Jesus told his disciples at the last supper that they would always have his presence, always have his attention and always have his love. That translates to us.

When we feel like we can't get the attention of anyone, when we feel isolated, when we feel trapped, when we are absolutely overwhelmed Jesus is present, paying attention and loving us.

Team Crusher is my way of trying to put this into action. My worst days are when I wake up and feel like I am the only one who remembers my son. The goal of Team Crusher is that when families feel that way, they can always know that our athletes are thinking about them and their child every time we train and race. For some of our athletes, that will mean that we think about them once a day, sometimes twice a day, sometimes all day long. The races are fewer and farther between, but training never stops. I usually train anywhere from 1-4 hours a day. I know that our other athletes are not much different. For me, this is the best way that I can show the love of Christ to a population that, quite frankly, can feel angry at, unwanted by, might even hate the idea of Christ. Losing a child is devastating and often times, we can fall into blaming God. I do not believe that it was God's plan for our children to die, I do not believe that God needed them for something in heaven. I do not believe that this is a test. I do not believe that God took them because it was their time. I believe that God is there to receive our children and give them crazy love until we join them. There is still hope, but there is hope because of Jesus. The last supper, communion, reminds us of that. As we eat and drink, we have a tangible connection, a physical reminder of the love and hope that is provided us through Jesus, the son of God.

As Team Crushers attempts to live out this love, I would invite you this Easter season to think about the way that the Lord cares for us and try not to be angry or resentful, but try to say thanks or even visit worship somewhere.

I love you, God loves you and there is nothing you can do about it.

Visit www.teamcrusher.com or find us on Facebook.


Team Crusher

Location:W D St,North Platte,United States

Enjoying It

The other day, Julie was gone.  This meant that Dad was home with 4 kids all by himself.  That statement is enough to frighten many people, mostly moms, to their core.  We made it to the grocery, we got groceries put away, we played hard, we went roller skating, the kids played at the park with some good friends while Dad got a bike ride in.  All in all, it was a great day!  I even remembered to feed the kids!  Batting a thousand!

I have learned over the last year, that in order to be the kind of parents that your kids want to listen to and respect, you have to enjoy being a parent.  Would you rather take your business to someone who loves their job and seems knowledgeable or someone who clearly hates their job and doesn't know much of anything and has terrible customer relation skills?  You would probably take your business to the person who loves their job and communicates clearly about how to accomplish the goals that you want to accomplish.  The same holds true for parenting.  For a while, specifically when I was a beginner parent, I was the most concerned with how my kids acted in public and how respectful and behaved they were.  I was just short of being a nun from 1956.  That was tiring.  It took all of my energy to make sure that I was putting on a show for the rest of the world and the whole time, I was teaching my kids that the only way that I would like them, was if they were quiet and behaving.

Since Carson's passing I have focused much more on quality than creating certain expectations for the kids to live up to to "earn" my love.  I think about the way the my Father in Heaven cares for me and treats me.  The bible tells me that it doesnt matter what I do, I cannot "earn" grace and love.  If I can't earn His, why would anyone have to earn mine.  Love is a gift, not something you get once you have played enough games and earned enough tickets.  You cannot not go to the prize corner and spend your skiball tickets on love.  So often that is what I was making my kids do.  I was treating them as though once they played the game my way, I would then dote on them a little.

So here is where the perspective change happens.  Instead of getting easily bent out of shape over little things that don't mean much, I have looked for the joy in each moment.  At the grocery store with 4 kids, you can find lots to laugh about.  Being a dad, people think that I don't have a clue anyway, so we may as well enjoy ourselves.  When the kids do something ridiculous, the easy route is to snap or even yell at them, but the easy route is not always the most fruitful route.  Chatting with some dads just this morning, we started talking about shoes and the fact that kids can never keep track of them, even when they are wearing them!  One dad had a daughter leave a shoe at the playground, it was not until they were home and a friend swung by to see if it was theirs that they even noticed.  WHAAAAT? That is super funny, or you could try to yell at a toddler to be more responsible, but which of these reactions will bear more fruit?  Another dad had his son fling a shoe out the window of the car on the way down the highway!  Super funny!   Again, not worth yelling and getting too bent out of shape.  These are moments to enjoy, they are times that you get to choose how you are going to react and how fruitful your reaction will be. You have to enjoy parenting.

Take a couple days this week and practice enjoying parenting.  Practice letting loose a little bit and realizing that kids are kids and you can choose the way that you react to them.  Instead of making you and your kids miserable, enjoy it.  Find the little victories, laugh when you have to explain to your boys that "No, your penis won't fall off if you pull too hard".  Think about when your kids are older and you are just old, what stories are they going to tell?  Are they going to talk about their dad, the guy who hated his job as a parent and wasn't much fun or will they be exchanging hilarious stories of the time that Dad was singing and dancing in the aisles of Walmart because some crappy tune from the 90's came on the muzak?  Your kids will need to be reminded of rules from time to time, but make it swift and get over it quick.  No sense in holding a grudge, you are stuck with them your whole life.

Just a quick training update, swimming has been going great, I joined a Tri-masters swim class and it is paying off huge!  I have already cut about 20 seconds off of my 100 times and swam my first sub 10 minute 500!  I have been riding like mad through the nice weather, in fact, the kids and I rode our 1000th training mile since October this last week.  What a gift!  And finally, in the running department, we ran 2 5ks for time the last two weeks and both were under 30 minutes!  28:12 and 28:17.  This is incredible for a guy whose average time before this was CO:UCH.  What an incredible blessing Team Crusher has been for me.  Your kids are pushing me to lengths that I never thought were even possible.  So like usual, I am sorry that you are part of the team, but thanks for being part of the team.

Jesus loves you and I love you and there is nothing you can do about it.

www.teamcrusher.com

On Approach

We are coming up on our first year angelversary. It is surreal that it has even been that long. There have been lots of things that happened this last 12 months: first day of kindergarten for an older brother, starting 4th grade, Mom got a job, and we are racing An Ironman Triathlon, we got a puppy, I shaved my beard, the first of every holiday with only 6 present.

I have learned some stuffs. I have learned to enjoy being a parent. I have learned that there is a good chance that if I am more focused on how my kids act than who they are becoming, not only will they eventually rebel, but I will regret that I missed so much while I was busy hollering at them. I have learned to be more patient and look for what can be taught and learned in each situation that I am presented with. I want my kids to grow up with an appreciation and respect for each of the other, so I am trying to set an example of that every day. I want them to know that the death of their brother was not an end, but a beginning. The beginning of a life where they can live for God and their brother and show others the kind of love that they receive. I have learned that every moment has value and you should hold them close. I spent the night before Carson's death snuggling on the couch thinking more about how I wished he would go to sleep and then I could too. I still treasure the time, but I would like to have changed my attitude.

Finally, I learned that your attitude, your outlook, your demeanor is everything. Each morning you have to wake up and take charge of you and run your day. Each day we find a way to pull through and make the day look graceful. Some days are far easier to take charge of, but we can only do our best.

Keep pushing forward and keep choosing to make today a good day.

John Butler
Team Crusher
Www.teamcrusher.com



Team Crusher

I Don't Dance Well

We get it.  I am training.  Running to remember and representing our kids.  AND...  and what?



AND I am learning tons about myself, my grief and how it is affecting me.  Consistency is my focus right now.  Training for the Ironman is more about consistency and smart training than it is about training volume or even pushing really hard all of the time.  I am at a point in my training where I am preparing my body, conditioning my body to train for an Ironman.  To even have a chance at qualifying for Kona, the world championships, I will need to train for a few more years.  Those years will not be spent punishing myself every day, they will be spent training consistently.  They will be spent teaching my muscles what I need them to do, every day.  Sometimes people ask me how far I usually run or ride my bike, and at this point in training, that doesn't matter.  At this point, I am teaching my body that it is alright to run for an hour or two hours straight, teaching my heart how to get blood to my muscles for that long and not explode.  Teaching my muscles how to use the capillaries and oxygen better.  My body is not yet at a point where I can punish it and not pay dearly for it the following week.



I am also learning these same lessons about dealing with my grief.  I am learning that the facts are not changing and my pain isn't going to go away.  There is no way around the fact that I lost my son.  That does not mean that I can't take consistent baby steps to learn how to cope and learn how to move with my grief.  At first, this all seemed like one big obstacle to overcome, to conquer.  That could not be farther from the truth.  There is nothing about grief to get over.  If you try, you will wear yourself down, you will hurt yourself and you will feel dejected when you fail to "get over it".  The failure will feed into your sadness and into your pain and will exacerbate your grief.  Nobody wants that.



Grief is something that you will live with, whether you want to or not.  Some days, grief will lead you where it wants you to go, down dark holes and into cold places.  Some days, you will claim your soul back and have days full of light, joy and even peace.  There is a dance that happens.  As life plays, you and grief will be dancing away, getting lost in whatever music you have on repeat.  You will ebb and flow, sweep the dance floor and embrace tightly as you spin to the rhythm.  How do you keep grief from leading? how do you keep grief from taking over?  You consistently choose to dance to a song that makes you strong.  Find some moves that you can do when grief starts to take over.  Maybe you look at old pictures, maybe you read the bible and ask God to remind you that it isn't His fault, or maybe you simply cry for a while.  Find something that lets you regain the lead.  It may not be right away, but something that gives you control again, something that you can do consistently.



The day we lost Carson, I was lost.  The day we lost Carson I had no more direction, but I knew that I had somewhere to go.  I went to God.  I prayed.  I played songs of praise and cried through them.  The hardest thing to figure out is that it is not God's "fault".  He loves us and your child did not die as a test of your faith, or any other stupid garbage that people will try to spoon feed you when you are sad.  God is here holding you and crying with you.  He wants nothing more than to reunite your soul with your child's.  That is why Jesus came, Jesus came so that you will one day be able to hold your child again.  He didn't come so that God could smite you and say, "Now prove to me how faithful you are."  That is ridiculous.  Let Him care for you.



Eventually, you may be able to lead your dance more often than grief does.  God will help.  When you are at a point that you lead more often, you can start to find pieces of yourself again.  They might look brand new, they might look totally different and foreign to you, but they are your pieces, pick them up.  February 12, 2015 I did not run, bike or swim.  In April when I was able to find my pieces, they weren't the same.  I had a new drive and passion that I hadn't EVER had before.  New Pieces, totally foreign, different.  When you are able to get to a point of new passion, you find that you may be able to open countless new opportunities to lead the dance.  Grief is still a part of my every day, but I am able to dance and move more smooth with it.



Being a big clumsy white dude, I don't dance well.  I can openly admit that.  Grief is one thing that I have been able to dance with.  There is nothing more difficult than to learn this dance.  By no means am I a master of the dance, but I am learning.  I am learning that consistency is by far the most important factor.  The more often we practice doing something, the more often we are able to do it effectively.  The more consistent we are while dealing with our grief, the more effectively we will be able to deal with our grief.  Our dance will change, there will be days where we flow just right and days where we can't get it.  Some days grief will lead, some days we will.  The only thing that I know for certain is that it isn't going to go away... ever.



Keep putting one foot in front of the other.  As long as you consistently put down the next foot, you will make progress.  First step is to know that God loves you and he is not testing you or punishing you.  Forgive Him and forgive you.

Grief Will Change You

I have changed.  Things are different.  I don't look the same.  I don't act the same.  I don't feel the same.  My clothes fit different.  I've lost weight.  I don't talk the same.  I don't have the same drive.

Look what this grief is doing to me.

Carson's life was a gift.  It was a gift that I shall not take for granted.  In four short years, I learned about patience, love, happiness, patience, family, fatherhood and patience than I had in any amount of years prior.  Kids are only kids for a while, then they become teenagers and they only do that once (thank heavens) and before you know it, they are adults.  It's funny to me how I spent so many years being in the same place as my family and not really being with them.  Sounds strange, but I am willing to bet that you know the feeling.  I was in the same place, I occupied the same area and breathed the same air, but I wasn't totally present.  These were years that I will never get back. I held being at work in a higher, much higher priority than being present for my family.  I have learned.

We moved to North Platte and I was already working on improving the being present situation.  I practiced a deal where I would put my phone down in funny places on purpose so that I would forget where it was.  Out of sight, out of mind, right?  Since I was at a new place of employment, I set clear boundaries of home time and work time.  I have tried very hard not to mix the two and I believe it has worked for the most part.  These have all been baby steps.  Baby steps to get my family to a place where not only did they know me, but I got to know them.  I got to be present for them and be a real father.  Making that change was and still is my priority.

Since Carson's passing, I have started a new project, Team Crusher.  Getting ready to run an Ironman Triathlon in August of 2016.  The race is the exciting part, but not the real part.  The race is the culmination.  It will be a long day of grueling activity, sure.  Outsiders will see it as the accomplishment, but the race is gravy.  I am not waiting until race day to remember the kids on Team Crusher.  They deserve more than that.  Since my commitment to the race a few months ago, I have basically been training 2 sessions a day 6 days a week.  This is all time that I remember my kids.  This is all time that I pray for our families.  The time and work that is put into a race is the real deal.  People don't simply show up on race day ready to go.  Since October 25, I have trained for 105 hours, I have swam 31,360 yards, ridden my bike 606 miles and run 150 miles.  This might be small potatoes to some athletes out there, but that is 105 hours that the Team Crusher kids have carried my fat butt.

In April of 2015, I was a grieving couch potato.  I have changed.  Things are different.  I don't look the same.  I don't act the same.  I don't feel the same.  My clothes fit different.  I've lost weight.  I don't talk the same.  I don't have the same drive.

Loss does not have to be your end.  Grief does not have to win.  Find something that you can live for and do it.  Do something in memory of your loved one.

www.teamcrusher.com
www.facebook.com/teamcarsoncrusher