Going To Jail For Good

I’m sweating bullets.

Intimidated? Oh hell yea. Sitting on top of a desk in a classroom of 30, tough-looking, tattooed inmates, all looking at me, has a way of breeding intimidation. I could only imagine what they might be thinking, “who is this dude?” or “what kind of sunshine crap are they going to feed us this time…?”

And, for a split second I felt overwhelmed, like I didn’t deserve to be there, and just wanting to run out the room and never look back; but then I looked to the back of the room for Lindsay - my rock, my watcher, my believer - and I calmed down.

Lindsay believes in me. Chris Throp, the guard who reached out to me to come speak, also believes in me. My clients, friends, fellow athletes, and even my ex-wife-best-friend, all seem to believe in me. If I can’t believe in me, all that is nothing.

Lindsay, Director of Ops, makes sure I do everything right.

Taking a deep breath, I begin to speak…

“My name is Christian Griffith and I live for a living.”

Believe in Yourself

My message is not a blueprint for success nor a path to guaranteed happiness.

I don’t pretend to have some secret formula for a successful life. I don’t even pretend to know what “successful life” means, and instead believe it to be unique to each and every person.

I won’t tell you what God to follow or where to find a significant other or how to manage your money.

My message is a simple one - Believe in yourself.

Take chances. Risks. Follow your passions, meet as many people as you can, see as many cities, states, and countries as you can. Experience different cultures. Love, hurt, cry, laugh, test yourself physically, mentally, emotionally. Take the long way home. Introduce yourself to the homeless. Share a cup of coffee with a stranger. Strike up a conversation with that interesting person you see every day, but have no idea what to say.

Why? Why do these things? Because the result of which will enrich your life in ways you never thought possible. You will experience a wealth of personal emotions - excitement, entertainment, happiness, intrigue. You may learn things you never knew. You may become inspired to act in a way you never saw coming, or did see coming and just needed that nudge off the fence. You may find someone to train with, work with, be creative with …or even, fall in love with.

The underlying sentiment here is to put people and experiences above the collection of material things and money. A good friend once told me as I obnoxiously rolled around in my six-figure lifestyle, “He who dies with the most toys, still dies.”

He was right then, and it’s true now.

What Does this Mean for Inmates?

““How many people out there have emotional bars, fences, guards, and a lack of freedom?””

— Christian Griffith

What is jail? For these guys, it’s physical bars and fences and guards and a lack of freedom; but how many people out there have emotional bars, fences, guards, and a lack of freedom?

Let’s be real - almost everyone reading this can reflect back on a time where your decisions could have landed you in some serious trouble. Or, perhaps you did get in some serious trouble but were lucky enough to have family or connections that saved you.

Not all crooks have been caught. Not all those who have been caught are crooks.

My goal for speaking with these inmates is clear - I simply want to offer a nugget of alternative thinking. If I can inspire one guy, one thinker, one dreamer, to look inside, discover a passion or a drive or an intention so powerful that it begins to shape how he thinks about the next version of himself, well then, I achieved what I came to do.

The Only Way to Win is to Fight

Why should anyone care what I have to say? Because I have always been a fighter, and chasing your dreams requires a willingness to relentlessly fight for what you believe.

I’m nothing exceptional, but I have had always had a knack for finding ways to persevere, and sometimes excel, in the face of really crappy circumstances. It’s important to me that people see that I’m no “golden child,” but instead, fight for what I believe and want out of this life.

I can’t tell people what to do, but I can tell stories.

I can tell stories of being a teenager who gravitated towards skateboarding as a way to disassociate from a dysfunctional home life, diving so deep into it, and fighting so hard to make my way that I eventually scored sponsorships and traveled the country as punk-ass 16-year-old kid.

I can tell stories of being a fat, overworked, unhealthy Internet startup jockey who finally decided enough is enough, setting out on a quest to learn what I am truly made of through extreme endurance events and intense challenges.

I can tell stories of laying in a hospital bed, standing at death’s door and watching the faces of family and friends as the possibility of leaving this earth loomed as honest reality; but refusing to accept it. Refusing to believe it. Fighting for another chance, and eventually emerging better, stronger, faster, smarter, happier and healthier.

And lastly, I can tell stories of staring safety, security, and stability straight in the eyes, and not blinking, walking away from the “American Dream” lifestyle for what I believe to be a much greater calling. A more rich life full of people and experiences.

Doing what I Came to Do

So I did it.

I got through the speech, and I did it my way; but best of all, I touched people. 

People asked me questions, even questioning my methods at times, and later shook hands and engaged with me on a level I never expected.

I met a man who became inspired to follow his dreams as a chef.

I met a man who is driven to become American Ninja Warrior’s oldest competitor.

I met a man who wants to expose his children to a more rich, cultured life through travel.

I want to do more of this. More inspiring, storytelling and speaker engagement. I said earlier that I don’t really know what makes a “successful life,” but for me, it seems clear that I am living it.

I am truly living for a living.

Director of Operations

What does Live for a Living mean to me?

I look at it as a tool to motivate other’s to be the best versions of themselves, regardless of the obstacles they’ve faced. 

I have made the decision, very recently, to pursue a new career path in fitness. For the past several years fitness has been the main focus of my existence. I love watching people do things they didn’t know they were capable of doing. Especially women. Since starting this fitness journey, I’ve always wanted to make it a career, but I’ve been scared.

The picture on the left, 22, pre-fitness journey. On the right, 32.

Fear is a liar.

We live in a world where women tear each other down. And, all my life I have either been told I’m not good enough, or I’ve felt like I’m not good enough.

Once upon a time in a land far away from here, I learned that people are mean. Now, my mother, rest her soul, taught me not to be mean. I wasn’t allowed to have a water gun growing up, because she felt like it promoted violence. She taught me to LOVE deep down into my core. 

“You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it ok for guys to call you sluts and whores. “ - Ms Norbury

In the fifth grade, I was in the bathroom with my friends, and somebody farted. Somehow it was instantly blamed on me and the girls started singing, “Me, myself, and I, my pants are way too high, I don’t know why I farted but I won’t admit it.” I can remember almost nothing from middle school, but I remember this song. Words hurt, man.

"Cause the players gonna play, play, play. And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate. Baby I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake it off." - T. Swift

And since then, it’s been constant. I have always been told I was either too much of something, or not enough. In the past week I’ve been told I was fat, and also told that I’m too much of a barbie to ever be taken seriously, both by women. I’ve been slut shamed, told I’m too blonde, too muscular, I could continue, but it’s just a laundry list of insults that don’t really matter. 

#girlswholift #eachotherup 

I’m taking a chance. Because I’ve believed in myself this far, everything I’ve ever wanted in life has just seemed to work out. 

If you read that as I haven’t had struggles, I’ve survived a drug addiction, my mother killing herself, being raped, a failed marriage, and various other bullshit along the way, all of which you'll hear here or on my blog. I am not a victim, I am a survivor. And it is with that strength that I will find a thick enough skin to deflect the negativity and work on creating a positive bubble for growth both within myself, and to allow other’s a safe space for change.

Strength in struggles 

I believe, that as I embark this journey, that I’ll develop skills that will make me a more valuable asset to the world. I’m going to continue to develop myself through online courses to make myself more marketable, while setting serious goals to incorporate fitness to empower women and strengthen children. Children are our building blocks for the future. I'm enrolled in a 200 hour yoga teacher training and I fully intend on getting other health and wellness certifications along my way.

I believe that I can encourage and build women up, and I can carry that torch. I believe that my story of transformation and strength will make a difference. And I will try my hardest to do it with a smile on my face, no matter how heavy the load gets.

Have you ever seen a woman do something she never thought possible? Fortunately, I’ve seen this during endurance events, in CrossFit gyms, in yoga studios, and it fuels my fire. I am committed to holding a metaphorical mirror in front of women showing them what they are made of. 

I believe that I can help change the world.

So, please welcome me, as Live for a Living's Director of Operations, I am excited to embark on this journey and share with you along the way!

Namaste!

Linds <3

The Blind Leading The Blind

"We probably only have an hour left of daylight," she said, as I impatiently scanned the creek banks for two rocks that were supposed to contain the book we were hunting.

As always, the race directions were confusing and vague. I was looking for a confluence of streams, of which there were many, with a series of hollow trees of which there were hundreds, along with a group of rocks of which there were thousands. Depending on the route we took to get where we were, we may or may not even be in the correct valley, and I can tell my runner is getting cold, frustrated, and spooked as the darkness settles in. That horrible, unsure feeling of being potentially lost in the woods, that can easily rattle even the strongest of woodsman, let alone someone who can't even see.

I couldn't find the book. Again. I would have to convince Rhonda to backtrack. Again. Her fear of being lost in the woods rearing its ugly head. Again.

Because I am intrigued by the impossible

I think it was January when I got an email from Army Colonel Fred Dummar asking me if I would be interested in guiding blind athlete, Rhonda-Marie Avery, at the Barkley. I did a loop at Barkley in 2010, knew how gnarly it was, and wondered how in the Hell that would even be possible. Many athletes, especially Barkley virgins, are lucky if they can complete a single loop, with functioning eyesight; so someone doing it blind, like for-real-blind, just seemed like absolute crazy-talk.

Of course, I said yes, without hesitation.

I had no idea what I was in for, but I was eager to find out.

Excited. Honored. ...a little scared.

"Where dreams come to die"- RD, Lazarus Lake

Laz's new Barkley tagline. He seems very proud of it. He should be, it's true.

There have been world-class ultramarathoners who have tried, and failed miserably, at the Barkley. Mostly because they could not find the books, had gotten horribly off-course, and/or sleep deprived to the point of mounting lunacy, and these are just a handful of the potential pitfalls. Having lots of experience running ultras through marked trails really means nothing at Barkley, whether you've run one or 500 ultras, it doesn't matter. The tests at Barkley are much greater, more broad, and designed to rattle you mentally and emotionally.

The athletes that seem to do the best at Barkley understand land navigation and orienteering, and have put in significant time training at Frozen Head, getting a feel for the forest, landscape and surroundings, and typically have had a go at the course in previous years. Without this education, you have little chance.

With it, you still have little chance.

Because much of the course is run off-trail, bushwhacking up steep mountains, through thick thorns, sharp branches, camouflaged vines, leaf-covered crevasses, downed-trees, and rotten logs, navigation becomes very important. One wrong move, and you can find yourself in the wrong valley, on the wrong mountain ...or even in the wrong freakin' county.

The conch has blown, we are packed and ready - LET'S DO THIS!

Blind runner navigation, the cliff notes

The day before the race was to begin, I got a crash course in blind-runner navigation from Steven Parke, Rhonda's significant other, and it was a huge eye-opener.

Imagine identifying every rock, every root, every tree branch, every hole, every camber, and then, of course, the unusual obstacles. At Barkley, the unusual tends to be the usual.

Rhonda explained that she has developed the navigation skill of listening to her guides' footsteps. This gives her an indication of how close or far ahead I am. When I would get too far away, she'd let me know she was falling behind. She preferred that I talk looking forward, not looking back, as looking back made me sound closer than I really was. Another interesting navigation tool was smacking objects with my trekking poles. This, much like my footsteps, gave audio clues to her that she needed to avoid, step over, duck, or side-swipe an upcoming obstacle.

Lastly, as we stood in the line to secure her bib number and check-in, she casually tells me, "yea, it should be interesting. I never climbed a mountain before."

Oh shit.

That night, laying in my hammock, I started to really process all of this - on one hand, I was amazed at her courage. This is arguably the hardest 100-miler (130 miles) in the history of ultras, with the lowest finisher rate of any race out there, and she was willing to take it on, putting her trust in ME not to lead her astray, kill her with reckless ignorance, or put her in harms way.

On the other hand, "she was willing to take it on, putting her trust in ME not to lead her astray, kill her with reckless ignorance, or put her in harms way." - Oh my God, I cannot fail this woman ...and in a place where there 1,883,915 opportunities to fail.

The odds were against us.

But then again, were they?

Sure, maybe as 5-loop finishers, odds were 1,000,000,000-to-1. And as I would learn on the course, even a complete loop in 13:20 was seemingly impossible at the pace necessary to warn of every potential obstacle along the way, but this was bigger than me, or her, and all we had to do was give it our best, not get hurt, lost, or die (where have you heard that before?) and demonstrate for other disabled athletes that you can go after anything you want in athletics, or in life. She was carrying the torch and that's pretty damn cool.

The biggest mental challenge of my life

I've done some hard shit. But most of that relied heavy on the physical, not having to think much, just perform. Maybe GORUCK Challenges require significant thinking throughout the event, but once you learn to rely on your teammates and get over yourself, it's pretty smooth sailing.

This challenge was not about the physical. Probably the one advantage to approaching the Barkley with Rhonda was the very slow pace necessary to accommodate a blind runner. I felt physically fine for 95% of the 30 hours we were out there because I was rarely pushing myself to the redline. 

It was all mental.

Taking our place in the very back. This was a contest vs. ourselves. No one else.

Explaining the inexplicable

Because the first rule of Barkley is that you don't talk about the Barkley, I will do my best to present the mental challenges in conceptual detail. This in and of itself will be a monster challenge because without experiencing it, no one could have ever made me understand the level of intense focus necessary with just mere words, but here we go:

Top-level, I had three things in which to stay 100% cognitive:

• The 6-pages of Barkley directions (written in a way that requires careful reading and understanding) 
• The hand-drawn map we created the night before the race, that may or may not have been copied 100% correctly
• Making sure Rhonda didn't trip, fall, get smashed in the face, run into a tree, or die

Then, of course, the usuals associated with very long endurance events like, maintaining your hydration, nutrition, and electrolyte balances, but that was easy in comparison the top 3.

Here's an example:

If I was running alone, and I wasn't sure I was in the right spot, I could scurry around to various locations to assess my position, look for clues, and evaluate my surroundings, AND, could do so rather quickly and efficiently.

In other words, if I was looking for a hollow tree, by myself, I could check 200 trees within 1/4 mile in five minutes. But, since I was leading Rhonda, I had to keep a pace conducive to her being able to follow me, while still checking the trees, and making sure she didn't run into one.

This made navigation mistakes, course rechecks, and back-tracks take much, much longer than they would solo. Furthermore, and something I feel was impossible for me to prepare for, was how much more aggravating it would be for her when we did have to recover from mistakes. Again, as a solo runner, little mistakes don't have as much impact because you can recover quickly, but as a lead runner for a blind athlete, there is much more impact because recovery from mistakes takes a lot longer and therefore increases the rate of frustration.

These situations would force me to stay positive and optimistic under duress because I was leading - and not only physically leading - as I had to demonstrate motivational and confident leadership characteristics as well. If I started to fall apart mentally or emotionally, then we'd surely be doomed.

As a result, I obviously found myself wanting to make less and less mistakes ...during an event that is designed for runners to make dramatic mistakes. This created a scenario where I wanted so badly to be right that I would trick myself, reading into directions what I wanted them to say, or worse, I would disregard compass headings thinking surely something must be wrong with the compass because "this has got to be the correct way."

Most of the time, it wasn't. The tool was right. I was wrong. Imagine that?

I was trying to decipher the directions, navigate the map, all while on the move, and all while trying to ensure Rhonda was aware of the relentless terrain in front of us, and most of the time, doing this in the dark - off-trail, bushwhacking, freezing cold (literally), consistently unsure of my general positioning in the mountain forest.

It was the most intense, exhausting, and challenging thing I had ever to work through and it never let up. It never became easier, and in fact, as we started to lose it a bit mentally, it only got more difficult, more frustrating, and more seemingly hopeless - but I maintained a positive attitude the entire time because I was out there for Rhonda - it wasn't about me.

Intense, right?

I mean, without ever having done this before, you can imagine how 30 hours of this would be intense, right? 

But remember, I did all this with perfect vision.

Rhonda endured this with 8% vision.

All she could do was follow my footsteps and hope for the best. Think about that level of courage for a moment. Better yet, take a friend, go to the gnarliest trails you know, at 2:30 a.m., in the freezing cold, and run 1/4 mile away from the trails, into the deep wilderness. Then, stand in the middle of a ravine at the base of a mountain, close your eyes, and climb any number of 1000s of feet to the top of that mountain, through all the leaves, trees, branches, briars, and debris, and do so just by listening to your friend's footsteps.

Good luck. I bet you'll open your eyes before 1 minute passes.

She didn't have that luxury.

One of the greatest experiences of my life

Yup, no doubt it's in my top 5 of life experiences.

I am proud of what were able do "out there." No one but us will ever know what we truly went through in those woods, and completing what we did was a miracle. We easily covered 50 miles or more of distance out there, always moving, mostly back-tracking, often taking incorrect routes, and covering miles to nowhere on some of the gnarliest terrain anyone has ever traversed. No one will ever truly understand the level of challenge this presented for both Rhonda and myself - yet, through it all, we kept our eyes on the prize. We demonstrated understanding, encouragement, consideration, selflessness, and mutual respect under more extreme duress than I think either of us had ever experienced in an event.

I can't stop thinking about it. I get these flashes of images in my head of her climbing one of the gnarliest sections of the race, head down, no talking, just huffing and puffing, grinding it out. One foot in front of the other. Pitch so steep that stopping caused her to wobble backwards, only to catch herself with her poles, and continue forward. Or, on our hands and knees, it the pitch black, crawling through terrible terrain in an effort to get around "the walls", only to ascend even steeper grade, while completely exhausted. She fought the entire way. Even when she wanted to give up, she wouldn't. Even when she said she'd had enough, she didn't. Even, when we tried to quit, we got lost.

Seriously. We took the wrong road, thinking it was quitters road, only to realize we were lost as Hell, and had to turn back. Back to the course. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows...

Only at the Barkley can you get lost trying to find quitters road, so you decide to stay in because you can't get back anyway.

It wasn't until we saw the helicopters that our delusional minds starting getting the best of us, convincing her first, then me, that the copters were looking for us. In fact, while we were 26 hours into loop one, and feeling like that must have everyone at camp freaked out, there were actually 3 other runners, also still out on loop one, too - but of course, we never knew that.

And, as you might imagine, no, the choppers were not looking for us.

Could it be done?

Rhonda and I discussed whether it could actually be done. She believes that having two people - one guide, and one navigator - would make this easier, and I agree; however, I don't see Laz letting more than one individual be involved.

Even one official loop (completed in 13:20) is improbable because that would mean finding each book within a hour of each other and there are just not many sections where a blind athlete can run, or even move quickly. You have to run some sections of each Barkley loop to complete a loop on time. There is no way around that fact, and that would also assume that you nailed each book without a single mistake. Not likely. Not for even the most seasoned Barkley veteran.

However, all that being said, we made the very first attempt. We opened the door to the seemingly impossible, and from here, who knows where it goes for disabled athletes at the Barkley.

Only one man knows.

Laz. Race Director.

This experience was a gift. The most unique and intense gift that I have ever received in the form of an experience, and I cannot thank Rhonda-Marie Avery enough for giving it to me. A new friendship was born, and I cannot wait to guide Rhonda in another event. After taking on the hardest conditions possible as a first-time leading a blind runner, anything else will be a piece a cake.

I will never forget the 2016 Barkley. Never.

That's Right, I Was Sexually Abused.

It's 3:30 a.m., and my new friend Damien is 30 minutes behind me. My even newer friend, Darren, is within eyesight up ahead of me, but is choosing to be alone, and I totally get it.

Three dudes, suffering through tremendous sunburn shivers, blistered feet, and banged-up bodies, running 130KM around the entire Island province of Phuket, Thailand. Past the elephant babies, tourist beaches, and 10,000 massage parlors. Climbing straight-up mean mountain roads, and pounding down muscle-cramping descents, heat and smog so brutal and stifling there were times I wanted to throw in the towel, only finding hope in the upcoming cooler night temperatures.

Why were we doing this? I dunno. I guess because we could. Because we each had our own individual demons we wanted to challenge.

Doing extreme challenges is nothing new to me, but this was different...

Meet Damien & Darren

Christian Griffith, Darren Sherbain, and Damien Rider, Founder of PACA

I met Australian, Damien Rider, at Survival Run Australia in October 2015. When this beast of man moved past me in the race, both of us struggling with 50+ LB rocks, carrying them uphill for 7 KM, I never knew that we'd soon be connected at the hip. Instant homies for life - despite the fact that he lived halfway across the world from me. Damien is a survivor of tremendous, and I mean TREMENDOUS child abuse; however, wanting to break the cycle of the effects of the growing demons inside, he set out to change. I won't tell Damien's full story, you can see his amazing story in the National Geographic documentary, Heart of the Sea.

When I met Damien in Australia, we connected in this weird sorta way where I knew I had to be part of what this man was doing. He runs an organization called PACA - Paddle Against Child Abuse - and is turning traditional ways of dealing with life PTSD on its ear.

Darren Sherbain was Damien's friend. A hilarious, well-liked, and well-respected personal trainer on the Island of Phuket. I liked him instantly. I think it was the compression socks :) Darren's struggle was substance abuse. I don't know as much about Darren's deeper struggles, but it's sure to come out when we all tell our stories to the world in the second Documentary, RISE ABOVE, launching this year.

Look out for HEART OF THE SEA: RISE ABOVE, in 2016

Stop the taboo. Start talking!

On my flight home from Survival Run Australia, I texted Damien. I sometimes wish I still had the text. Maybe he does, but I just opened up like a faucet. I admitted years and years of sexual abuse in my teens. Sexual abuse that has haunted me for 30 years. HAUNTED. Effects of which playing out in every relationship in my life. Only a very small handful of people knew about this, and even they only found out when it was exposed a bit during my divorce. It was like once I started telling him, though, I couldn't stop. Details. Graphic details. It all flowed with a total lack of fear of outcome, as if it was just hovering there, expanding, forcing itself out and then just exploding.

I felt free. I didn't quite know how all this would manifest itself, but I knew I was moving in a direction of freeing myself from these lifelong shackles of shame, embarrassment, self-blame, low self-esteem, and really just feeling like a sexual freak.

The Challenge that changed my life

It came as a calling. A simple statement from Damien, "Hey bro, why don't you come and run 130 KM around Phuket, Thailand with me?" and that's all it took. Decided in minutes. It wasn't even a question. 

The days previous to me hopping a plane to Thailand were pure Hell - I was running from a relationship that was growing toxic for me, and crushing my family. In parallel, I was losing the greatest friendship I ever had in this world in my ex-wife, and lastly, had been scammed by a fake Spanish school, with my next few days including two robberies, one non-violent, and one where a gun was held to my head and the weapon fired at me.

Shockingly (and luckily), he missed. But, barely, 'cuz I felt the dirt kick up where the bullet hit the ground.

I went straight to the airport right then, bought a full-fare, last-minute plane ticket for $1000.50, and flew home, landing in Atlanta, shaken, rattling, and crying in the bedroom of my ex-wife.

"Holy shit, man - I got f*cking shot at! I should be dead."

The universe sent me home with my tail between my legs. Was #LIVEFORALIVING going to be too much for me? Did I bite off more than I could chew? Was I crazy to think this could all work the way I envisioned?

But Damian's challenge saved me.

After so much discussion and sharing and brotherhood, I realized that Damien was me, and I was him; but even more than that came the powerful self-realization that WE WERE NOT ALONE. The way we found each other was expanding - so many admissions being thrown at us from all around our individuals circles. People were hurting. Struggling with deep wounds, and they wanted freedom.

So, back to 3:30 a.m., limping towards the end of the beginning

Making our way through a tropical downpour in Phuket City, about halfway through the challenge.

...so as I watched Darren way up ahead on the dark street, fighting off the many dogs that would try to attack our beaten bodies, a huge smile spread across my face.

I wanted to live for a living, right? Well, when you find yourself halfway around the world, rolling deep in self-administered suffering through the streets of Thailand, in the middle of the pitch-black night, pondering ways to join others in the personal fight for freedom from demons so taboo no one wants to touch them, and you are doing so through extreme physical events designed to get people to pay attention - you are definitely living for a living.

So what's next? Where do we go from here?

That's easy. More exposure. More challenges. More attention to the cause, and most importantly, working on ways to implement real-life programs allowing others to experience alternative ways of exercising their demons in a positive way.

Not therapy. Not just awareness. Instead, we want to teach people to attack the demons. Face them, admit them, then put on the gloves and prepare to go to battle with them. During our next challenge, to be announced very soon, we are opening it up to all-comers. Anyone who wants to fight their demons, or support those who do, is welcome.

We couldn't have done it without Charlie, our crew chief. A man who was inspired by us, but who in turn inspired us more.

It really does take a village

As a worldwide culture, we have to stop making child abuse a taboo subject. It happens everywhere, comes in many flavors, and no one is immune. Past or present, whether you see visions of an angry parent with raised hands, or feel the chills of someone you trust exercising creepy sexual gratification against you, or you're wallowing in a seemingly, never-ending pool of shitty self-esteem because you are told you aren't good enough, pretty enough, or smart enough, fight back. Tell someone.

Your past does not need to define your future

Choose to free yourself from this crap.

Until you do, you will never escape it, and it will be with you, and play out in your relationships for as long as you let it.

My name is Christian Griffith and I was sexually abused by a number of individuals, in a number of disgusting ways, throughout my teens; but I choose to not let these experiences define who I am today, nor into the future.

How about you? Ready to be free?

Survival Run Australia, The Trailer

Survival Run Australia was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Having attempted both the SURVIVAL RUN NICARAGUA, and the Hunter Gatherer survival-type event in Texas, both by FUEGO Y AGUA ENDURANCE, I was frustrated with my inability to complete the grueling events.

Australia was my vindication. My personal victory. My stoke.

Film crews were on location in Australia, capturing all the action, interviewing athletes, and showcasing the drama that unfolded in the jungle. Can't wait to see the entire documentary.

Be watch this Saturday 26th December at 2pm on ONE for Buckleys Chance - Survival Run. (FOXTEL channel 210)See the world's best obstacle racers, sky runners, adventure racers, trail runners, survivalists and military personnel go head-to-head in a battle of mental, physical and emotional endurance.

Posted by Maria Michael on Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Stay tuned...

The Man Who Saved Me

Dr. Blass is not only my doctor, he is my friend. Since my unique and dramatic amoebic infection in 2012, "Doc Blass" and I have developed an amazing friendship. I am happy to see him earn the recognition he deserves.

As always, "Thank you, Doc."

Atlanta physician solves mysterious infection on Animal Planet's "Monsters Inside Me"

My Story on Animal Planet's Monsters Inside Me

BEWARE: NOT FOR FAINT AT HEART. VERY GRAPHIC - Watch on Amazon | YouTube | iTunes

The Following episode of Monsters Inside Me is the story of how I cheated death. In 2012, I contracted "the second deadliest parasite in the world," called Entamoeba Histolytica. The experience played a huge role in the LIVE FOR A LIVING concept because it was the catalyst that exposed to me the true finite nature of life and drove me to live the rest of my days like they are my last.

Crying my eyes out on national television has a way of changing perspective. 

Watch on Amazon | YouTube | iTunes

Shunning Security

From the get-go, LIVE FOR A LIVING was meant to be more than just a hashtag.  It's about throwing caution to the wind. It's about stomping out fear of change or judgment, and living the way we want to live.

LIVE FOR A LIVING is about wealth through experiences. The positive vibe. Inspiration. Encouragement.

I have found that chasing money and career status has never fulfilled me and material things carry very little value in my life. The greatest fulfillment in my life has come from the places I've been, the people I've met, and the variety of experiences I've encountered throughout my life.

I believe in it so much, I've decided to dedicate my entire life to living for a living. To prove that one can chase his raw dreams for pure happiness doing exactly what he or she truly loves, and still get by in this world, despite what a majority of society will tell you. 

Going out on my own. Defining my own career

I have no idea what's around the corner. I have no idea what I will do next. I only know that I will only work for people and causes I believe in, nothing more.

Example: GORUCK. I love GORUCK, and believe in the company's products, missions, events, and people. And, while I cannot serve GORUCK in the full-time capacity in which I had originally intended, my love and dedication to the brand and the people make it a no-brainier for me to include in my digital marketing portfolio. It's up to GORUCK to decide if they see value in me.

I will never work just to have "a job." Never. I'd rather be homeless, but living life by my own rules and definitions.

Reckless? Maybe. But, the calling is so strong, I can no longer fight it.

I will keep my skills sharp, continuing to work my craft as digital strategist, but will also branch out to other ways of earning an honest wage that are unfamiliar to me such as labor jobs and serving others. I want to experience life from all angles, without preference to wealth, race, age, religion, sex, or whatever.

Go big or go home

I can promise you this: I will work with some cool people, and I will achieve some great things. Professionally, I will attack personally-chosen projects with intensity, and socially, I will chase huge dreams and bucket list adventures. I will run across this great country of ours. I will participate in challenging physical events all over the world. I will skate, surf, train, climb, pedal, paddle, run, walk, hike, crawl, and experience life through movement while meeting new, unique and interesting people.

I will document the entire thing via social media and this website. No fear. No apprehensions. Just a belief in people, relationships, and life experiences.

And so it begins...