Waldo has fallen down. We need to help him get back up. Together.
A long road ahead. A High Impact Man uniquely prepared to navigate it.
Waldo has fallen down.
We need to help him get back up.
Together.
Waldo’s family has set up a GoFund me account. Click here to donate.
Friendships in F3 come about in strange ways. We form deep and abiding relationships. We share intimate challenges and struggles. We pray deeply and profoundly … all with men when we barely even know their real names.
Sometimes relationships form long distance, where you get to know a man before you ever actually meet him. I traded dozens of messages with Tim “Waldo” Johanns before I met him in person.
We traded notes about Make America Burpee Again, the annual challenge in which participants do 100 burpees per day in January. He came across on Slack, emails and texts as simultaneously massively gung-ho and uncommonly thoughtful, like we could do 400 burpees side by side together and then go get coffee and discuss the efficacy of the atonement in rich and subtle detail.
He’s from an F3 region near mine, and in dribs and drabs I learned of his legend. Based on what I heard from mutual friends and discerned from our communications about his energy level—physically and mentally—I imagined he was in his 20s, looked like he was carved out of granite, and that when I finally met him in person I’d never be able to keep up with him.
I was right on two out of the three.
When at last I hugged his real neck and not his virtual one—at the starting line of the Castlewood 8-hour Adventure Race a couple years ago—I assessed the Man in Full in front of me:
He wore a racing shirt, headband, wrap-around sunglasses …
Easy confidence …
Toothy grin …
Knife-flick dimples …
Ripped …
Sprinkles of gray at his temples …
And wrinkles.
Wait, what?!? …
This dude is a freaking grampa?
Yes, indeed.
This dude is a freaking grampa.
I … just … wow.
Two years ago, Waldo, 56, helped rally and tabulate “Cardinal burpees” when F3 Nation collectively did hundreds of thousands of them in honor of Taylor “Cardinal” Phelps, who collapsed and died during an F3 workout.
And now, sadly, crushingly, it’s time for us to do Waldo burpees.
On Friday, Waldo was seriously injured in a construction accident. In typical Waldo fashion, he was helping a fellow F3 man on a project when the incident happened.
From his GoFund Me:
“Our beloved father, Tim, experienced a devastating accident while working for a friend that has changed his life forever. After a fall, Tim sustained a severe brain injury resulting in a brain bleed and broke his back, causing spinal cord damage. As a result, Tim is now a paraplegic and faces a long and challenging road to recovery. … Every donation, no matter how big or small, will help ensure that Tim has access to the care, equipment, and therapies he needs to regain his independence and quality of life. Additionally, your generosity will help alleviate the financial strain on our family during this challenging time.”
His region already has his burpees covered.
But you can do more burpees in his honor.
You can think of him when you fall down.
You can think of him when you get back up.
You can do that together.
As the devastating news spread, stories poured in about the joy F3 men experienced as they grew to know and love Waldo.
Many of them sounded much like mine. His region, JeffCo, hosted 24 consecutive workouts, and he baffled men by nonchalantly reading a book in the 15 minutes between each one. The book he repeatedly returned to in the middle of the night was Consecration to St. Joseph. “He was literally reading the chapter on sleep,” says Tony “Airhead” Rich. “So funny.”
Says Jeff “Flo” Wilhelm: “He and I were communicating throughout the night and day without even speaking to each other across the circle. Seeing him bust out that book after every beatdown was amazing.”
The publisher’s description says the book is “dedicated to meeting the challenges of the present moment.”
So is Waldo.
Waldo’s fondness for endurance races is well known. At a beatdown a few years ago, the men pestered him to name the hardest event he ever completed. They were surprised to hear him say GTE Plainfield, an overnight hike in which participants carry 30-pound plates and complete multiple brutal workouts.
It was because he got so much out of Plainfield that he helped make the GTE in Jefferson County last October a difficult, challenging and powerful event.
The highlight—really it’s universally considered a highlight in the entire history of GTEs—was a venture into a cave in which the men sang the national anthem in the wee hours of the morning while standing in waist deep water. Nobody who was there will ever forget it, and they have Waldo to thank. He planned the route and spent many hours working with the cave owners to get permission to be there.
Upon emerging from the cave, the men believed the hard work of that GTE was over. Then Waldo’s route took them straight up a knee-busting, hip-crushing, lung-destroying hill. Oh the expletives—muttered, whispered, shouted—in every variation you can think of and some you can’t. It was horrible in a way that seems awesome now that it’s long over.
“Once the route was coming together and the caves were locked in, he would get GIDDY with excitement every time we talked about it,” says Luke “Daughter in Law’ Miers, who was in charge of the event. “It was truly an effort of love for him. I did have to convince him that we didn’t ‘need’ to go off-trail through the field of stinging nettle.”
During a practice ruck for GTE, Waldo walked with Sean “Sally” Dailey. Sally’s knee gave out. “Without hesitation, Waldo grabbed my ruck off my back and told me, ‘If you want this back you’ll need to catch me first,’” Sally says. “This was the push I needed to finish the ruck, and it gave me the confidence to do GTE.”
Which is not to say it was easy. “When I thought I couldn’t go any further at GTE,” Sally says, “Waldo came up to me and asked me to share the 200 pound bag with him. I did and shoulder to shoulder we carried that sumbich while praying Hail Marys, trading prayer intentions.”
Waldo lived out his nickname (a reference to the “where’s Waldo” character) both before and after he joined F3. As Matthew “Fulton” Yehling put it: “You just never know where you’ll find Waldo. Where ever you do find him, he’ll be carrying his Rosary, praying for someone.”
He visited beatdowns across the greater St. Louis area, often riding his bike to and from, and he was forever asking me if I would be at this or that crazy adventure race or orienteering event.
I’d love to be his teammate sometime. Andy “Initech” Maurer was on Waldo’s team at last year’s Castlewood race. “He was constantly pushing me (sometimes literally) further than I thought I could go,” he says.
Waldo carries himself with a mysterious quality, an ineffable air, a presence, through which he leaves you with no doubt that he likes you, loves you, and right that minute, there’s nobody else he’d rather be talking to.
Over the years, Waldo immersed himself neck deep in MABA. He chased big numbers, pushed for relationships, offered encouragement, all out of deep love for his fellow F3 men. His region is routinely the best in the country in MABA in total participants, total burpees, and engagement, and he’s a big reason why. He wanted more and more men to fall down, get back up, together because he knew that we’d all end up stronger together.
Now he has fallen.
We have to help him get back up.
And we have to do that together.
This is so good, what a tribute to this man we know and love. Waldo won't stay down, but this is crushing.
I met Waldo at the GTE49, I wasn't on the same platoon as him, but he stood out, his enthusiasm and care for others. That cave was the most awesome part of the ruck, and I'm so glad for men like Waldo who organized that!