I was hit pretty hard this past weekend over the death of CrossFit Games athlete Lazar Dukic. A man I’ve never met, I don’t know personally, someone I’ve only ever seen in live streams doing CrossFit.
I don’t know why, but I became almost obsessive in watching videos about it, reading articles about it, trying to figure out what happened. A man who has been a swimmer since he was 7, who played water polo, who swam twice a week as part of his workout regimen and preparation.
I am heartbroken over what happened. I am heartbroken that his life, his family’s lives, were all changed in an instant. Life is so dang fragile. I know it all too well. And my heart, my prayers, my thoughts go out to his family. To his partner. To the CrossFit community and athletes who were there.
I watched the event live, sitting in my living room in a different time zone. I remember feeling my anxiety levels rising, my heartbeat and breathing getting faster, an almost mini panic attack as I watched them swimming.
I am not a swimmer. Not even in the slightest. My kind of swimming is planting myself in a tube and floating comfortably around.
And to watch these men and women run 3.5 miles faster than I probably ever will in my life, then jump into a lake, open water, and swim 800m across… whew. My heart rate just increased writing that!
Y’all. These men and women are the fittest in the world. They went through several competitions to get there. They’ve been training, preparing, swimming, for months, years, getting ready.
And I watched many of them struggling. Stopping their forward progression to bob in the water, or to breaststroke, or even to backstroke, in an attempt to get their bearings and catch their breaths. My goodness, I remember thinking… if they were struggling, there is no way I could ever do that!
I didn’t realize anything was amiss watching it. I don’t know if I have guilt over that… or what feelings I have about it. Not that I could have done a thing from Virginia. But I look back at videos now and wonder… would I have noticed anything?
I’ve never been a lifeguard. But I know many drownings are silent. There is no yelling or splashing. And that’s scary to me.
I watched Lazar bob in the water, and then start swimming again. He almost immediately stopped and started bobbing again. He was so close to the finish line.
What could have been done differently? Could anything have been done differently?
I don’t know the answers to these hard questions, but I know that if you’re struggling with loss, even if it’s someone you don’t know, please talk to someone. Surround yourself with friends and loved ones who can be there for you. Don’t isolate. Feel the grief, the sadness.
I love y’all. And I’m thankful for each of you. I’m here if you need someone to chat with about it.
Have a beautiful week.
Whitney
