Conquer The Middle

Twenty-five years. That's how long I've been running toward what everyone else runs from. House fires, car accidents, medical emergencies—the moments that tear through ordinary life like lightning. But here's what they don't tell you at the academy: the real challenge isn't in those adrenaline-soaked minutes. It's in everything that happens between the tones dropping.

The Space Between Calls

When I started this job, I thought I was prepared. I could tie any knot, operate every tool, recite protocols in my sleep. What I wasn't prepared for was Tuesday afternoon at 2 PM, sitting in the station with nothing but the hum of fluorescent lights and my own thoughts. No one mentioned how the mundane moments would feel heavier than a charged hose line.

The truth is, we spend maybe 5% of our time in actual emergencies. The other 95%? That's the middle—the everyday, ordinary, sometimes mind-numbingly boring stretch of time where life actually happens. And nobody teaches you how to navigate it.

The Missing Manual

In training, they teach you how to force entry into a burning building, but not how to come home and be present with your family after seeing things that can't be unseen. They teach you how to start an IV in the back of a moving ambulance, but not how to sit still with yourself when the station is quiet. They teach you how to save a life, but not how to build one worth living between the calls.

I learned the hard way that without the skills to handle the middle, the little things become big things. A minor disagreement with your partner becomes a relationship-ending fight. A bad call you can't shake becomes a bottle you can't put down. The irritability becomes isolation. The stress becomes sickness.

 

Building Your Foundation

After about ten years in, I hit a wall. Not dramatically—just a slow realization that I was surviving my life rather than living it. That's when I started understanding that well-being isn't just one thing. It's an ecosystem that needs tending in four critical areas:

Physical: Yes, we need to be fit for the job, but I'm talking about more than just being able to throw ladders. It's about sleep hygiene when you work 24-hour shifts. It's about nutrition when the easiest option is fast food at 3 AM. It's about moving your body in ways that heal rather than just perform. I started treating my body like the tool it is—maintaining it even when it's not in use.

Mental: This was the hardest one for me to admit I needed. Learning to self-regulate isn't weakness; it's tactical preparation for life. I had to learn that my thoughts aren't facts, that I could observe my mental state without being consumed by it. Meditation felt ridiculous at first, a firefighter sitting cross-legged breathing deeply—but it became as essential as checking my air pack.

Spiritual: I'm not necessarily talking about religion, though that works for many. I mean connecting to something bigger than the next call. For me, it's about purpose beyond the job. It's gratitude practices that reminds me why I do this work. It's finding meaning in the middle, not just in the extremes.

Community: We're tribal by nature in this job, but often that tribe exists only at work. Building community outside the firehouse—neighbors, hobby groups, genuine friendships that have nothing to do with the job—became my lifeline. These connections remind you who you are beyond the uniform.

The Daily Practice

Here's what I've learned about conquering the middle: it's not about conquering at all. It's about befriending it. The boredom, the routine, the ordinary Tuesday afternoons—they're not obstacles to get through. They're the main event.

I started small. Five minutes of stretching between calls instead of scrolling through my phone. Actual conversations with my crew about things beyond work. Cooking real meals at the station instead of ordering pizza for the third time this week. Reading books that had nothing to do with firefighting. Learning to be okay with quiet.

These weren't dramatic changes, but they shifted everything. The anxiety that used to build between calls started to dissipate. The transition from work to home became smoother. The weight of what we see and do became more manageable because I had a stronger foundation to carry it.

The Ripple Effect

When you get good at the middle, something amazing happens. You become a better first responder. Not because you run faster or lift more, but because you're more present, more regulated, more capable of making clear decisions under pressure. You become the calm in someone else's storm because you've learned to be calm in your own quiet moments.

But more importantly, you become a better human. A better partner, parent, friend. You stop living for the next big moment and start appreciating the small ones. You realize that a career spent saving lives means nothing if you forget to live your own.

The Path Forward

If you're reading this as a first responder, know that learning to navigate the middle isn't just self-care—it's operational readiness. If you're reading this as anyone else, know that these lessons apply far beyond the firehouse. We're all living between emergencies, trying to make sense of the ordinary days that make up an extraordinary life.

Start where you are. Pick one area—physical, mental, spiritual, or community—and make one small improvement. Do five push-ups. Take three deep breaths. Say thank you for something simple. Text an old friend. These tiny actions in the middle moments compound into a life well-lived.

Twenty-five years in, I can tell you with certainty: the calls will come, and you'll handle them. But it's what you do between the tones that determines not just whether you'll survive this career, but whether you'll thrive in it. The middle isn't something to endure—it's where life happens. It's where we become who we're meant to be.

So, here's to conquering the middle, or better yet, to making peace with it. Here's to finding extraordinary purpose in ordinary moments. Here's to building a life that's worth living, not just between the calls, but because of everything that happens there.

Stay safe. Stay strong. But most importantly, stay present in the middle.

If you or a family member are having any issues with mental health or relationships, please reach out for help. Responder Health (responderhealth.com) is an organization that offers resources specifically for first responders and their families. Responder Health provides confidential and full-service solutions that support first responders through stress and traumatic events, and provides them with the education, resources, and community they need to live healthy, happy lives. Our peer advocate hotline (253)243-3701 offers a confidential 24-hour crisis referral service for all public safety employees, all emergency services personnel, and their family members nationwide.