Book can be found under classroom above

A quick guide taken from my book on how to decompress after an emergency call

Anxiety in athletes doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you care. It shows up before the game. Before the race. Before the lift. Before the moment that matters. The pressure. The expectations. The fear of letting people down, including yourself. Being Unbreakable isn’t about shutting that off. It’s about learning how to compete with it. Some days anxiety sharpens you. Other days it slows you down. Neither defines your worth. You are not your worst performance. You are not your thoughts at 2 a.m. You are not “soft” for feeling this. The strongest athletes aren’t the ones who feel nothing. They’re the ones who show up anyway. Breathe. Reset. Compete again. Unbreakable isn’t fearless. It’s resilient.

Winter doesn’t just change the weather it changes the weight of the job. When the temperature drops, everything gets harder for first responders. Calls take longer. Roads are slick. Gear is heavier. Hands go numb. Fatigue sets in faster. And the margin for error gets smaller. You’re responding while the rest of the city is trying to stay warm and safe. You’re driving into whiteouts, climbing icy stairs, working scenes in darkness and bitter cold knowing the next call is already waiting. Winter has a way of exposing exhaustion. It tests patience, focus, and mental toughness. It amplifies stress, isolation, and the quiet stuff people don’t always talk about. But it also shows something else. It shows commitment. It shows grit. It shows people who keep showing up, no matter how hard the conditions get. If you’re a first responder feeling worn down by winter — you’re not weak, and you’re not alone. Take care of each other. Check in. Speak up. Rest when you can. The hard days will pass. What you do on them matters more than you’ll ever know.

Black and white photography gives a mood. Strip away the colour and what’s left is truth, light, shadow, emotion. Couple that with a wicked violin tearing through rock riffs and suddenly you’re not just watching… you’re feeling. A heartbeat. A pause in time. A moment that doesn’t ask to be remembered it demands it.