Photo by Steve Baer | FireDog Photos
Some weeks, I step back and realize just how far we’ve come in the firefighter health and wellness space — and this was one of those weeks. We’re finally talking about who we are to this job, what we’re exposed to, and the life we build around it. We’re trying to preload firefighters with the idea that this career doesn’t exist in isolation, that it lives inside a body, a mind, a family, and a future. We know the statistics. We know the risks. We know what this job does to the heart, the lungs, the sleep cycle, and the nervous system.
Departments are challenged with keeping their members safe, trained, and engaged. Firefighters are challenged with keeping up with call volume, expectations, side jobs, families, and the constant demand to be ready.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, health becomes something we talk about instead of something we protect. For every three steps forward, something humbles us. There are still pockets of the fire service where you can watch 10 firefighters walk by and see the same story — overweight, under-fueled, not prioritizing themselves — which leaves them exposed to the job and to the consequences of it. Those are physical attributes we can see. They are the obvious signals.
What We See Isn’t the Whole Story
You could just as easily watch a physically fit firefighter walk by who looks dialed in on the outside and be completely conflicted on the inside. The point is, some things are visible and some things are not.
None of us are perfect, and every one of us has room for improvement somewhere, whether it shows up on our body, in our habits, or in our head. And that’s really what this is about. And it’s not just the obvious cases. There’s the skinny-fat firefighter, too, and I’ve lived there. After 22 years, I’ve been in and out of shape more times than I care to count. Priorities shift. Kids are young. Side jobs stack up. Self-care becomes optional instead of essential. No excuses, just reality.
What I wrestle with is how we get firefighters to look down the road of their own lives and have this make sense without it feeling like a lecture. Because when we know what we should be doing and we aren’t doing it, we don’t lean in, we hide. Shame does that. Silence does that. That’s where damage grows.
The Hardest Conversations Are the Most Needed
I had an opportunity to speak this past weekend, and some would argue I had the toughest spot of the entire event, as vendors were closing down booths and people were already packing up. I wish I could tell you my seminar was full with standing room only. I had one person show up, and then a second. On the surface, that could look defeating, but it wasn’t about me. It was a reminder of how far we still have to go. I framed it this way in my own head: it didn’t matter what the topic was, there would have been no one there, because traditionally, that’s what happens with this subject. That moment just reinforced everything I’ve been thinking about.
Now I’m stepping more into the presentation world, talking about how we’re wired, about purpose, identity, and longevity in the fire service. Let’s be honest, that doesn’t compete with “how to force a door” or “new fireground tactics.” Fire is the fun part. It’s what we think we signed up for. Put firefighters at a conference for three days and they will chase the cool stuff every time, like a moth to a flame, and that makes sense. Still, I believe where we’re headed matters. Pressure and time make diamonds, and firefighters are those diamonds. Every single one matters — career, volunteer, full-time, part-time.
Every person who serves deserves a chance at a long career and a good life. We are all entitled to happiness, but only if we educate ourselves, protect our behaviors, and stop pretending this job doesn’t leave marks. We can blame the environment, the system, and the workload, and some of that blame is fair. Departments are trying to manage risk from the top down. Firefighters are trying to survive it from the inside out. Somewhere in between, we have to meet in the middle. We cannot wait for the system to change before we change. The lightest lift we have is fixing ourselves first and making ourselves a priority inside the system we already have.
The Path Forward Starts With Us
Right now, too many of us are running a maze with a mousetrap at the end. We need a better path, and we need to help firefighters see this before they are forced to care about it.
The truth is, if you’re not here, you don’t get to do this job — you don’t get to serve your community, you don’t get to lead, you don’t get to teach, and you don’t get to become the version of yourself this career was supposed to build.
Dedication without sustainability is self-destruction disguised as commitment.
– Kory Pearn
