Real Role Models No. 1 and No. 2: While known with equal amounts of respect and affection as “Chief” and “Gunny” Brabon, the names of The Real Role Models we are privileged to profile today are James Brabon and Emilie Brabon-Hames. Jim and Em are many things. Successful founders and business owners of ‘Original Bootcamp,’ a licensed personal training franchise that has been in existence for close to 20 years and operates under license in many locations across Australia and Malaysia. A loving couple who choose not so much to speak of their love for each other, but to portray it with open abandon in the way they treat each other, interact, and photograph together. Lovers of life, whose love is born of an indomitable will to get it done, no matter the weather, no matter the challenges, no matter the haters who are going to hate or the naysayers who are going to nay say. Despite having both suffered spinal injuries, and being told by every medical professional they had the time or patience to consult that they would never run again. Inspirational to thousands. Inspirational not because they parade around with their shirts off and their guns on show, pretending to be something they are not. For this couple don’t actually talk the talk. They just walk the walk. And oh how well they walk it. Run the run would be more accurate. For Em and Jim happen to be two of the most incredible ultra marathon runners Australia has ever produced. They don’t run 100mile races in Death Valley and compete on the World Stage for accolades, magazine cover articles or gold medals. Rather, they choose to race in the exotic, outlandish, and exciting ultra marathon races that are held all over planet earth. They do this for a few months of every year. This is their ‘down time.’ When they are working, they are up at the crack of dawn to get down to The Domain from where the live in Coogee. Sometimes Chief will run into work, sometimes Em will, while the other couriers the kit. Or sometimes they’ll drive together in the Maroon Red Land Rover Discovery that doubles as a work vehicle and run about. It has the horses under the hood required to carry a tonne of sand bags, medicine balls,, ‘rifles’ (four foot lengths of inch and a half PVC piping that are capped at each end and filled with exactly 4kgs of sand), battle ropes or whatever other fitness equipment they have chosen to use with their Recruits that morning. I was lucky enough to train with Original Bootcamp, Sydney CBD, in the Domain for a couple of weeks before undertaking - arguably - their toughest challenge. The Longest Day. A 25-hour military inspired challenge of mental, physical and emotional endurance that not many take on. Even fewer finish it. What you learn fast if you train with OBC, is that every single person who signs up for that month is 100% committed to getting to training, working hard, and then going to work or heading home feeling as if they have launched their day with maximum motivation, plenty of endorphins and a healthy dose of self worth. Everyone refers to Jim and Em as Chief and Gunny. Just calling them Jim and Em feels a little funny, because you wouldn’t call your drill sergeant mate, now would you? But I feel as if I have earned a measure of respect over the time I have known them. Still, it’s a bit weird. To me. Chief served in the armed forces as a younger man. Infantry. I know this not because he told me, but I did learn it through osmosis. I trained with OBC on the day before ANZAC Day in 2013, and there was a lot of respect flowing from both Chief and Gunny towards us recruits. Given that we had showed up on a public holiday which most people associate with mate ship, rum, beer and two up than with physical exertion. After the session was over, I stuck around for a time to have a yarn with these Role Models. Mainly because they are people you want to spend time with. Outside of when they are making you do backwards bear crawls up a stairwell or eight point pushups in perfect cadence with the whole group. I asked Chief if he was going to the march, which was taking place about an hour or two later down George Street in Sydney’s Central Business District. “No mate,” was all the reply I got. He walked off while I walked across and spoke to Gunny for a bit. “Why don’t you go to the service or the march on ANZAC Day Gunny?” “He lost too many friends. ANZAC Day isn’t a good day for Chief.” I walked back over to the fence at the edge of the training pitch in the Domain, where Chief was standing looking over Woolloomooloo Bay. He didn’t say a word, nor did I. We stood in companionable silence for a time, and then I decided to leave. I turned, looked him in the eye, and shook his hand. That singular handshake, that look in his eye, said more than a million words ever could. It was then that I feel I received a rare insight into the person, the gentle soul, that James Brabon truly is. Emilie, on the other hand, is someone who appears to wear her heart on her sleeve. She is bubbly, chatty, funny and motivational in a way I have never known another human to be. She is fit, focused, she organizes the recruits, she makes sure things run to plan. She is a doer. It wasn’t until I took the time to ask her about herself that I discovered how strong I was. Em only found herself’ in her thirties. She just turn late thirty-ish, and she is only just hitting her straps. She was born as the first of eight siblings. There was a large age gap between number one and number eight. In fact, the gaps between them range from 18 months to 34 years between Em and her youngest brother. So she grew up with seven babies to look after, and feels more like a parent than an older sibling to them all. Rather than paraphrase or rewite her story, here it is in her own words: “I am an ultra marathon runner…I only started running 2 1/2 years ago. I needed something that was tough, but that not many people would want to do. I wasn’t a team player at the time, and thought that maybe running might work for me. I didnt like running but thought that maybe I didn’t like it because I wasn’t any good at it. So I set about making myself like it. And it worked. It’s the only time I get now to catch up with myself. No phone, no people. Just me. And all of a sudden I found my pace. I got good at it. Who knew my own advice would work on me? I am an ambassador for Red Bull’s ‘Wings For Life’ program, which raises awareness for spinal cord research. Having had similar injuries myself and having friends with the same situation (Chief included – N.B. the authors words), it’s close to home for me. I am a brand ambassador for Under Armour, of which I am immensely proud. A brand that supports athletes across the board. Their mission statement? Simply to “make athletes better”. Hells yeah. I suffered a few injuries in my teens that have impacted my life considerably over the last 3 years. I deal with a lot of internal pain on a daily basis, but I think that its part and parcel of what I do. There isn’t much I can do about it, so I don’t whinge. There is no point to complaining about something you can’t control. I think it’s made me a more patient and understanding person, so I don’t hate it. It is a part of me. I look up to a lot of people. I probably don’t tell some of them enough. My husband is one of them. He is so patient and kind. He looks for the best in everybody and that has helped me to do the same over the years. I admire people that have overcome obstacles and pushed aside doubts from other people and succeeded in what they wanted to do, while at the same time, haven’t conformed to how society says they should be. He is the epitome of that.” And so it was that a bunch of hardy, or mad - depending on your viewpoint - recruits were at The Art Gallery of NSW’s steps the morning following the ANZAC Day public holiday, at 4am, waiting nervously for Chief and Gunny and the bus that would take us to The Longest Day. You could have waded through the tension if you were wearing a large pair of heavy-duty gumboots and some expensive fly-fishing overalls. The bus trip took an hour or more, and the nervous chatter was doing more to wind everyone up than it was to alleviate our sense of pending doom, which was its intended purpose. The following 25 hours taught us many things. It taught us the value of teamwork. It taught us that, when the grind is really grinding, and each breath is stolen through gritted teeth, a pat on the back from another recruit, a word of encouragement from someone else facing the same demons as those you are, is worth more than any protein shake, energy bar or motivational speaker could ever impart. It taught us that the time and effort required to organize such a mammoth event for 52 recruits, and for it to go off without a hitch, without a serious injury, and without any significant crises of confidence or emotional breakdown, is a feat of almost inhuman proportions. Knowing that OBC makes not a dollar from The Longest Day, that if you took into account the labor hours of organisation, marshaling support from ex-military personnel, arranging the grounds to host it and ensuring you have the best medical support – no less than a Special Forces medic who has been more places and seen more action than we could ever imagine – is simply incalculable. And this is the work that James and Emilie do willingly. This is their brainchild. This is their gift to those who are willing to receive it. I’ve never been, and probably never will be, a personal trainer. But having worked with them, I see that there is a huge amount of personal satisfaction derived from helping humans work hard to become better humans. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. To show them that, if only they take a chance to challenge themselves to do what they never thought possible, that they can, in fact, achieve the impossible. That while we may perceive one reality, we have within us something that will teach us another reality. That will drive us over the cliff, and help us climb back up it. Intact, bruised, battered and bleeding, but alive. Alive and well. Alive and stronger. Alive and more of the ‘us’ that we have ever been before. That must be such a rush. Of gratitude. Of achievement. Of wellbeing. Being able to do that work every day, to show people that they, too, can achieve the impossible. To know that, come rain, hail or shine, as long as you are at the aforementioned field at the aforementioned time, there will be a gang of bright-eyed recruits. Nervous initially, and then resigned, and then eager to get involved. Because that is what Chief and Gunny do. They get involved. They show their recruits how to get involved. They preach from the pulpit of involvement. They act with integrity, dignity, humour and grace. They don’t ever belittle someone for doing less than their very best, because today just may not have been the day to achieve a personal best. That day may be tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe even next year. But so long as Chief and Gunny keep showing up, their recruits will keep showing up. As long as Chief and Gunny are there, they will keep motivating, keep inspiring, keep changing lives, keep getting involved. It is for these, and many other reasons (which I don’t have the time, the pages, or the attention to write down), that James Brabon and Emilie Brabon-Hames are the two people that The Real Role Model Project is privileged to have as their very first Real Role Models. Thank you James and Emilie. For everything.
Posted on: Thu, 21 Aug 2014 08:09:44 +0000
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