PAX: SPINAL TAP, 3 mile, Disco, Purple Rain, Trifecta, Kodiak, Gherkin, Median, Mr Haand FNGs: Atache
WARMUP: WMH with a twist; Cherry pickers; yoga-type stuff
THE THANG: Sets of 20 exercises together, bear crawl to 18, run cross field and back; first back leads 10 blockies. Lather, rinse, repeat. MARY: Cruel can openers, four count LBCs, more LBCs, J-Lo
COT: On This Day.
1854 was not a good year for Robert Schumann. Now recognized as one of greatest composers of the Romantic period, he was suffering from tinnitus, auditory hallucinations, and ever-increasing bouts of schizophrenia and/or manic depression. His declining mental health had led to the loss of a prestigious job; money was tight and Clara was pregnant with their seventh child.
The morning of Monday, February 27, 169 years ago today, found Schumann worked quietly in his first-floor apartment. Around noon, still wearing his floral-patterned nightgown, he left home through an icy pouring rain. No one questioned his odd attire as it was carnival in Dusseldorf.
Schumann walked to a wooden pontoon bridge over the River Rhine. Arriving at the bridge in his nightclothes, he had no money to pay the toll. But the toll collector accepted his silk handkerchief instead and was allowed to continue. Halfway across, he stepped over the wooden railing and into the ice-cold water.
A local boatman tried to save him from the fast-flowing water. Schumann fought him off until weakened by hypothermia. He was rowed ashore and sent home in a cart. He spent the remaining 28 months of his life in an insane asylum. Often delusional, and sometimes strait-jacketed, he died of pneumonia complicated by self-starvation.
Don’t be like Schumann. Reach out. Be with people. Share the burden. On the reverse side, don’t be afraid to reach out to those who might be hurting. The worst that could happen is a moment of awkwardness if they push you away. I think we can handle that.