LEAD PHOTO COURTESY OF: Carissa Carroll

There’s no easy way around it, losing someone you know sucks.

I lost a friend, and former teammate of mine, Andrew Carroll (AC) about 1 ½ years ago when he took his own life.

Andrew was a junior my freshman year of college. The same Andrew Carroll, who two years before, was named a captain…during his freshman year!!! He is the only Bulldog in program history to be named a captain all four years.

I like to work hard at whatever I am pursuing, and preparing for college hockey was no exception. I was able to train right on campus all summer since I was from the area. I made sure I entered training camp at the beginning of August in great shape. Or at least I thought…

All of a sudden this super nice guy and soon-to-be three-year captain shows up and proves why he is such a great lead-by-example person. Carroll was a pure freak in the gym and on the ice. Even if his body told him it was time to be done doing pull-ups, his mind would somehow eek out another 12!

Two of the most mind-boggling feats of Andrew’s that I witnessed came during both the mile and 10/10 running tests. The mile is pretty self-explanatory, four laps around the track. The 10/10 test might just be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s performed on a treadmill, set at 10 MPH, at 10% incline. The objective is simple: run until you can’t anymore (or grab the railings).

I certainly wasn’t built for lifting more weight than a lot of fellow hockey players, but I had a history of running, so was looking forward to the mile. It’s a race I used to run in track through my sophomore year of high school, and much shorter than the 5k’s (3.1 miles) of cross country. Let’s do this!

I remember going out at a comfortable pace for the first lap of the Bulldog mile time trial, eventually getting to the front of the pack somewhere on the backstretch of the second lap. I pushed pretty hard on the third lap, with a couple teammates right there with me. I slowly started to ramp up the pace from there heading into the fourth lap. Rounding the final corner with just over 100 meters to go, I notice someone right behind me breathing like a maniac and attempting to pass me. I expected to see a couple different people, but when I looked to my right I couldn’t believe my eyes…it was Andrew!

For those that don’t know his physique, Andrew had absolute tree trunks of legs. So full of raw power and stability on skates…but not necessarily known for endurance or “final-stretch-speed” during a mile run. How was he able to pull off a nearly sub-5 minute mile? I’ll tell you how. Hard. Freaking. Work. It was literally impossible to outwork him. Believe me, many tried! Although I was able to fend him off during the mile, it was not because I outworked him. It likely had to do with my 13 seasons of running between cross country and track growing up, and carrying around about 30 fewer pounds of muscle.

Anyway, Andrew didn’t like that someone beat him in the mile, so for the 10/10 test he requested to run side-by-side with me (two people went at a time, right next to each other on separate treadmills). I remember thinking, “Apparently I found someone who hates to lose as much as I do!” I knew right then that he was going to make me hurt, really, really bad if I wanted to beat him.

We ended up taking 1-2 in that test as well…by a long shot, no one else even close (we both stayed on for over 3 minutes – I know that doesn’t sound like much, but try it). I was able to last another couple seconds after he grabbed the railings, but that was it. And as I suspected, he made me hurt. I got off of the treadmill and couldn’t breathe at anything less than a hyperventilating-Backstreet-Boys-fan-club-member-waiting-in-line-to-purchase-the-Millennium-CD-from-Best-Buy-back-in-1999 for a solid 10 minutes, and I couldn’t even walk semi-normal until 20 minutes had gone by.

Let’s just say I was glad this guy was on my team!

Over the next two years I had many great conversations with Carroll, gave him tons of crap (as most good teammates do with each other), and got to see him absolutely celebrate a game-tying goal that someone else scored (3:39 mark, hopping off the bench to fist bump everyone at 4:09 is also great).

We stayed in touch after he graduated here-and-there, running into each other at a hockey game and catching up.

Losing someone who was far too young is tough to swallow. Losing someone who was far too young and took their own life is utterly terrible. My mind was racing (and I’m sure countless others’) attempting to make sense of the news after I heard it. I felt so bad for him – wondering what must have been going through his mind, for who knows how long. I felt bad I wasn’t there to help him out. So many scenarios, so many what-ifs.

Andrew’s family ended up having his brain tested at Boston University and they were able to confirm that he did in fact have Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE), a neurodegenerative brain disease, and was most likely dealing with its many side effects, which include:

•          Memory loss
•          Confusion
•          Impaired judgement
•          Depression
•          Anxiety
•          Suicidal thoughts

Years of subtle (and some not-so-subtle) jarring of the body/head can cause CTE, something that hockey certainly provides.

I have thought about Carroll a lot during this summer of training, especially the really long runs where it would be easy to cut things short. If I’m feeling down and my legs are heavy, I can just picture him alongside me saying, “Schmidty, you can do this! I’m right here with you, 10 more steps, let’s get through them together. After that, we’ll worry about the next 10 steps. Just keep going, the pain will go away!”

I know his pain is no longer, but I am fully prepared to embrace the inevitable “pain” that will show up throughout my race, knowing it is nothing compared to what he went through.   

And that is why I am dedicating my upcoming race next week, the Superior 50 miler, to him.

This one is for you AC, I miss you bud.

Note: If you are interested in helping out, I would encourage you to donate directly to the Boston Medical CTE Center – they are doing amazing, groundbreaking CTE research that will one day save many lives. Spread the word!