Mother Competes in Memory of Lost Son

February 10, 2014

Josh Bunch

"Training and preparation is my therapy. I'll cry, push harder, toss my shirt off, and just do it. It lets me dig deeper into the darkness that I'm feeling."

Photos courtesy of Katie Schenk and Sara Mauk 
 

This will be Ashley Schwamberger’s third CrossFit Games Open. But it’s the first without her son, Boston.

He passed away last fall due to complications from a rare tumor that had grown on his brain stem. Schwamberger’s knee-high, almond brown-eyed son had been diagnosed with the condition one-year prior.
 
“We were told that there were no successful cases of DIPG (Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma) ever,” Schwamberger said. “I hoped he’d be the first.”
 
Since the tumor grows on the part of the brain that controls essential functions, including one’s heartbeat and breathing, it’s inoperable. Currently, little is known about why the tumor forms or how to cure it, Schwamberger, 28, said. Patients, who are often young children, receive radiation and chemotherapy to extend their lives.
 
Immediately after the diagnosis, Schwamberger and her husband, Joe, took Boston to the hospital for treatments. 
 
“He did great. He never got sick,” she said. “We thought he was going to be different.”
 
Two months and 30 cycles of radiation later, the Schwambergers were hopeful.
 
But as the medical bills started to add up, her affiliate, PSKC CrossFit, stepped in to help. PSKC CrossFit spread the word and other affiliates near Portsmouth, Ohio, came together to host a fundraiser workout for Boston.
 
“We wanted to surround them with love and strength,” PSKC CrossFit owner Dale King said. “We wanted them to know we were there for them … and ready to battle for Boston.”
 
Initially, Joe Schwamberger saw CrossFit as his wife’s thing. But when Boston got sick, the box members stepped in and helped the whole family.
 
“They were with us every step,” Joe said. “Doctor visits, MRIs, coming to Cincinnati to visit, at our home with us. And I'm not talking every other day, they were with us 24/7.”
 
Word spread far into the CrossFit community, lighting up Chicago, Cookesville, Tenn., and Columbus, Ohio. Games athletes Rich Froning Jr. and Elisabeth Akinwale sent an autographed CrossFit Games jersey and photo to be auctioned off. Dan Bailey picked up the little man at the Arnold Classic in Columbus and snapped a few photos. 
 
“It was overwhelming,” Ashley said. “I’d never seen anything like it. The impact it really makes ... knowing you have that support of the entire community. … It really makes a difference.”
 
In June of 2013, the Schwambergers met with the doctor to discuss the latest series of tests. The news was devastating.
 
“We’d just gotten a bad MRI,” she said. “The tumor had grown and they said there was nothing more to do. We didn’t accept that.”
 
Soon after, they headed West in search of help. They were willing to give anything, including holistic and alternative treatments, a try.
 
On the 2,000-mile road trip to California, Ashley dealt with the stress by doing CrossFit. 
 
“It’s almost therapeutic to do a brutal chipper and survive,” she said. “Everyone deals with stress differently; I have CrossFit.”
 
When there wasn’t an affiliate nearby, Ashley would run sprints in a parking lot and squat at the stop signs. When the trip brought them near an affiliate, Ashley would drop in as if everything in her world was fine, and do whatever the whiteboard had written on it. 
 
“I would get my workout out of the way early and do whatever Boston wanted to do all day,” she said.
 
The road trip ended a month later after the holistic medicine didn’t offer a cure. The family reached their home in Portsmouth on July 20, 2013, just two days before Boston’s 4th birthday. 
 
Not long after they got home, Boston started showing signs of his illness. He was tired and no longer wanted to go outside.
 
“His speech started to get delayed,” Ashley said. “I could understand him, but most people couldn’t.”
 
As her son faded, Ashley wouldn’t leave Boston and spent all of her time at home. 
 
“Ash wouldn't leave (Boston’s) side,” King said.
 
So he brought CrossFit to her. King showed up at the Schwamberger’s house with an Aerodyne, squat rack, barbell and plates.
 
“CrossFit allowed her some semblance of peace,” King said. “It wasn't about working out. It was about spending time, (and) just being there for her. Once equipment was at her house she never worked out alone. Friends would stop over to hit a workout at the ‘SchwamBox.’ People understood that was the best thing Ash needed at that time.”
 
Joe said he just shook his head in amazement. 
 
“Boston always wanted people from the gym with us,” Joe said. “He grew up there. They were like family to him, as well.”
 
On a Sunday in September, Boston got very weak. By Monday he could barely walk, and just after midnight on Wednesday he died. 
 
It has been a few months since his passing, and getting by is still hard.
 
“I do pretty well most days,” Ashley said. “Sometimes you just wake up and go through the motions. Sometimes it’s just one of those unbearable days.”
 
More than ever, she has relied on CrossFit. 
 
“I couldn’t bring him back,” she said. “Sitting around is the worst. What made me feel better is something I could control.”
 
She can control what she puts into the workouts, and her progress toward her goals. Ever since the funeral, she has been focused on the Open—not to make it to regionals or the Games or even to forget. It’s simply something to focus on while still reeling from the loss of her child.
 
“Training and preparation is my therapy,” she said. “I’ll cry, push harder, toss my shirt off and just do it. It lets me dig deeper into the darkness that I’m feeling.”
 
At the end of the month, she will do Open Workout 14.1 under a banner of Boston at PSKC CrossFit. Without her affiliate—and something to focus on—she said she doesn’t know where she would be now. 
 
“CrossFit is my release,” she said.