A METCON of Gratitude

I remember the day fondly.  It was Friday, June 18^th.  It was hot, not July or August hot, but it was hot as I began my journey through and across the Mojave Preserve on a warm summer’s morning, heading towards my new area of habitation – in location only as the desert that had become my home since 2004 will continue as my residence for now and the near future.  My white F-150 was packed to the hilt with all that would not fit or that I desired to be hauled by the movers to maneuver to my new home in the city of sin – well, just north of it.  It was a hodgepodge of items that resembled more of a person evacuating a zombie invasion rather than a relocation, tools, a ladder, baseball bats, clothes, food, water and two dogs (a German Shepherd and Great Dane) along with their accompanying food and toys.  The cab was truly a site to see, as we were all jammed in together just as three people trying to share a port-a-potty.  It actually reminds me of a time in my youth when my young friends and I fit nine people into a VW Bug to go play football – a story for another time.

The drive went smoother than I thought, other than the lid of the dog food flying off when I turned onto Amboy Road, but, it could have been worse.  As I approached Las Vegas and descended upon my new location with vigor and anticipation, I had no real sense of belonging or establishment of my new home.  I did not even have a place to stay yet as my new rental home was still in the process of being renovated and cleaned from the previous tenant.  As I recall, I did find it fascinating that even on a Friday, traffic was extremely light and free as I drove past the strip and the new Raider’s home stadium at 75 MPH.  A pandemic world it was, and the populous on the road and at the businesses truly reflected that reality.  Google Maps informed me of my next direction, “take the 95 north towards Reno,” a polite British woman would indicate to me as I was 1 mile from the next interchange.  Ten minutes later, I was exiting on to Buffalo Drive in Centennial Hills and my eyes caught one thing as I pulled onto the surface streets: Crossfit Apollo.  My god, this was perfect and so convenient.  My new domicile would be less than one mile away from a Crossfit box (a choir of angels sing).

Instead of heading directly to my home, which was not ready anyways, I pulled into the parking lot and wanted to check it out.  I safely but with excitement and anticipation pulled into the parking lot and pulled into a spot in the front of the building – when we were allowed to do so (wink, wink) – and left the car running with the A/C on as the two fur babies were packed in the back of the extended cab of the truck.  Walking in was a moment of Zen and tranquility amidst the smashing of plates and the bass pumping from the stereo as athletes were inside moving with determination and grit.  As I look back now, I actually remember most of the individuals who were in there at time, but one stood out.  He was the owner, Chad Cole, as I walked up and introduced myself.  A modest fellow with a calm and outgoing demeanor, he greeted with a firm handshake and a welcoming smile.  The conversation went as such, welcome to the area, the basics of Crossfit and the Apollo community, he explained that this was open gym, but he gave me the class schedule and even offered an opportunity for me to train right then, as I could not because of the dogs, but the offer was generous and inviting.  And after a short walk through, that was that.  I was able to get into my home with the help of my best friend who drove up from Arizona for the week, and I joined the Apollo community ten days later on Monday, June 28^th.  And that was that, but there is more to this story. 

As I mentioned, I moved here, alone, with two dogs – I was fostering the Great Dane, and gave him back about two weeks later.  I was without anyone in a new city, in a place that was partially locked down.  I sat up at nights wondering if this was the right thing to do.  I kept venturing out to find activities that could and would occupy and satiate both Remo and myself as the days of June ended, the 4^th of July passed, and the days slowly crept into August.  I was about to start my new job at Mojave High School, and had only met five other people who did or were going to work there in person.  I had keys to my new room, but nothing nor a want to decorate it, and with an unknowingness if I was going to teach from home, or at school.  It was hot, the dog park only kept Remo’s interest some of the time, and life was still in the midst of happening to me as I still was in a place of transition and revelation.  I even thought about buying out my lease and heading back to the Morongo Basin, at least I would have some people to socialize with. But the self-isolation gave me one thing: perspective.  I was able to see what and who I valued, and who felt the same towards me.  Much had happened over the previous two years, and my interest in restarting was met with trepidation as my benevolence towards humanity was certainly tested during that time, and the results have spoken for themselves.  It allowed me to re-center and focus on the self and let the answers to the enigmas come to me.  The interest of self-improvement and growth only vibrated stronger and tuned me into a new frequency, one that I created and established on my own.  My interest focused on reading, writing, and meditating, and this inner peace opened me to a new tangible connection. 

Apollo enabled me to have that link with people again.  It was through Apollo that supported me to find my footing, and further allowed me to tap into my inner consciousness of peace and enlightenment.  The Apollo community opened its arms to a traveler in search of his new dwelling, both physically and spiritually.  I have never felt judgment or shame from a place filled with so much competitive fire.  When every contest ends with high five’s and good jobs no matter the outcome as all of us have participated in our ritualistic one-hour S & M practice. I found myself heading to Apollo multiple times a day as the summer continued, and felt like the lady in the old Marshall’s Commercials when they shut down for the weekends (you remember the one with the lady saying “Open, open, open). 

Each day I am greeted with a wondrous smile from all who I encounter as I walk in the doors, masked and protected to be sure.   All feelings are set aside, as we joke, laugh and engage in all sorts of banter and joyous conversation; it is in those few hours, all are truly equal and bonded in the sacredness of a community. 

Apollo was my real introduction into Vegas.  It was not in a drunken stooper when I felt wasted and unwanted, left penniless upon the street with my tail between my legs.  But encouraged as I did lay in a pile of sweat on hot summer’s mornings after hard training sessions, and I then returned begging for more.    The culture of Crossfit is community and Apollo represents the epitome of that spirit.  The honor in which I write this is not in charity, but reverence of a group of people who really celebrate the notion of communal support and grace.  The members of Apollo have become some of my most dear friends because their honesty allows all to be their true selves.  No one can lie in a workout.  No one can hide on a 1-rep max day (well, you can go into the bathroom).  No one can cheat on a run when the route is the same for all.  The suffering is what makes it great, and the suffering together is what makes it memorable.  But it is not the suffering that matters, it is the applause to finish, the cheers to overcome obstacles and the joy when feats are met. 

I thank you Apollo, truly from the bottom of my heart.  I can only express in words what you have meant to me on this once lonely man’s journey to ascension.  I further and further celebrate and support your spirit and mission each day, because you helped to save mine.  The step I took was a big one, and it was scary.  We always encourage others to take that risk and make the journey, but for once, being on that other side really made you see the jeopardy it can cause.  I was able to see why people don’t want to take that leap into the unknown.  There is a study that says over 80% of people won’t move more than 40 minutes from their hometown, and I can see why.  We do create our reality, and opening to that intuition allowed me to find that place of peace.  It is not about acceptance or encouragement because those have to come from within, but the vulnerability and humility I exemplified allowed the search to come at ease.  Apollo was a destination that I created for myself.  The feeling of bliss and unity was matched the love and light that I have and I share.  Apollo is the god of the sun amongst others, such as truth and prophecy.  The warmth and integrity that I felt as I entered 6535 N. Buffalo Drive are unmatched.  A toast to you Apollo, and bless you.