The sun had yet to come up in Edmonton, Alberta, and it was more than 20 degrees below zero. Tanis Smith layered up anyway, ready to run up and down hundreds of stairs among the trees in the Saskatchewan River Valley.
When she arrived at 6 a.m., 10 other people joined her. It wouldn’t be the last time they risked freezing their toes off to get in a workout before the rest of the world wakes up.
“You’re pretty much just putting everything you own on,” said Smith, an accountant. “If you look at the pictures, you don’t know who you are unless you remember what you were wearing.”
Since that winter of 2013, Smith has rarely missed a workout with the group, called November Project, a network of free outdoor group exercise classes that started in Boston. No matter the month or weather, participants roll out of bed before dawn at least once a week and shield their faces from the blistering cold.
One part intense training and one part abject silliness, the project is a model for how to stay motivated to exercise outside throughout the winter.
It started when a pair of friends challenged each other to exercise every morning for the month of November. By the end of the month, they were recruiting others.
“A party is better when there’s more people around,” said Bojan Mandaric, who created the project with Brogan Graham in 2011. “We would talk to anybody who would listen.”
Soon, their meetings were attracting a few dozen people, who then brought the idea to other cities when they moved. Now there are 52 chapters in eight countries, including 44 in the United States and Canada.
Workouts, which attract all ages and fitness levels, begin with a “bounce,” a hopping, call-and-response chant to loosen people up physically and mentally. How the classes continue varies on the location and day of the week, but most include running and body weight exercises like squats or burpees.
To promote the idea that exercise can be fun, they also might weave in activities that would be at home during childhood recess in the schoolyard.
In Edmonton, they’ve played an intense version of duck duck goose, gone sledding in winter and done Slip ’n’ Slide in summer. One workout in Boston involved a kind of Easter egg hunt, where you search for plastic eggs at a sprint. Crack them open to find commands that could be, walk like a gorilla, do a cartwheel, or grab grass and dump it on Mandaric’s head.
The point is to lower inhibitions, which helps people make connections, said Jason Shaw, co-leader of the Indianapolis chapter.
“Nobody’s cool at November Project,” he said. “At different gyms, especially, you always have the people who just are so cool, or think they’re so cool. We try to nip that in the bud.”
Shaw said chapters mark different milestones, much like Scout merit badges, by spray painting a tag on your shirt for, say, showing up on your first single-digit day.
But they don’t spray when it’s too cold. The paint freezes.
If you don’t have a chapter nearby, many cities offer some kind of running or outdoor exercise group, though many are not free. Otherwise, November Project organizers offered a few suggestions on how to stay motived to keep working through the colder months.
Accountability is a core tenet of the project. Members make a verbal promise to show up, and there is almost a sense of letting down your teammates if you don’t, said Mandaric, who moved to Boston from Serbia to row crew for Northeastern University.
There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing, Shaw said. At a minimum, buy a moisture-wicking base layer that will help keep you warm and dry. Avoid cotton, which keeps sweat in contact with your body and will make you colder. And add a top jacket with wind-breaking fabric.
Commit to exercising on the same days and times for a month. Creating a predictable routine will help you get into a groove that is easier to maintain, Mandaric said.
One of the things Smith appreciates most about the project is its social aspect. She called it “a chosen family” that was formed partly because they were having fun while exercising.
“Fitness doesn’t have to be this hard-nosed, drill-sergeant type thing,” she said. “You can have fun and get fit.”
EDITOR’S NOTE: Albert Stumm writes about wellness, food and travel. Find his work at https://www.albertstumm.com
Members of the November Project fitness group run up and down the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington on May 25, 2016. (AP Photo/Andrew Harnik, File)
MINNEAPOLIS (AP) — On the last night of their lives, Jagdish Patel, his wife and their two young children tried to slip into the U.S. across a near-empty stretch of the Canadian border.
Wind chills reached minus 36 Fahrenheit (minus 38 Celsius) that night in January 2022 as the family from India set out on foot to meet a waiting van. They walked amid vast farm fields and bulky snowdrifts, navigating in the black of an almost-moonless night.
The driver, waiting in northern Minnesota, messaged his boss: “Make sure everyone is dressed for the blizzard conditions, please.”
Coordinating things in Canada, federal prosecutors say, was Harshkumar Patel, an experienced smuggler nicknamed “Dirty Harry.” On the U.S. side was Steve Shand, the driver recently recruited by Patel at a casino near their Florida homes, prosecutors say.
The two men, whose trial is scheduled to start Monday, are accused of being part of a sophisticated human smuggling operation feeding a fast-growing population of Indians living illegally in the U.S. Both have pleaded not guilty.
Over the five weeks the two worked together, documents filed by prosecutors allege they spoke often about the bitter cold as they smuggled five groups of Indians over that quiet stretch of border.
“16 degrees cold as hell,” Shand messaged during an earlier trip. “They going to be alive when they get here?”
On the last trip, on Jan. 19, 2022, Shand was to pick up 11 more Indian migrants, including the Patels. Only seven survived.
Canadian authorities found the Patels later that morning, dead from the cold.
In Jagdish Patel's frozen arms was the body of his 3-year-old son, Dharmik, wrapped in a blanket.
The narrow streets of Dingucha, a quiet village in the western Indian state of Gujarat, are spattered with ads to move overseas.
“Make your dream of going abroad come true,” one poster says, listing three tantalizing destinations: “Canada. Australia. USA.”
This is where the family’s deadly journey began.
Jagdish Patel, 39, grew up in Dingucha. He and his wife, Vaishaliben, who was in her mid-30s, lived with his parents, raising their 11-year-old daughter, Vihangi, and Dharmik. (Patel is a common Indian surname and they are unrelated to Harshkumar Patel.) The couple were schoolteachers, local news reports say.
The family was fairly well off by local standards, living in a well-kept, two-story house with a front patio and a wide veranda.
“It wasn’t a lavish life,” said Vaibhav Jha, a local reporter who spent days in the village. “But there was no urgent need, no desperation.”
Experts say illegal immigration from India is driven by everything from political repression to a dysfunctional American immigration system that can take years, if not decades, to navigate legally.
But much is rooted in economics, and how even low-wage jobs in the West can ignite hopes for a better life.
Those hopes have changed Dingucha.
Today, so many villagers have gone overseas — legally and otherwise — that blocks of homes stand vacant and the social media feeds of those who remain are filled with old neighbors showing off houses and cars.
That drives even more people to leave.
“There was so much pressure in the village, where people grew up aspiring to the good life,” Jha said.
Smuggling networks were glad to help, charging fees that could reach $90,000 per person. In Dingucha, Jha said, many families afforded that by selling farmland.
Satveer Chaudhary is a Minneapolis-based immigration attorney who has helped migrants exploited by motel owners, many of them Gujaratis.
Smugglers with ties to the Gujarati business community have built an underground network, he said, bringing in workers willing to do low- or even no-wage jobs.
“Their own community has taken advantage of them,” Chaudhary said.
The pipeline of illegal immigration from India has long existed but has increased sharply along the U.S.-Canada border. The U.S. Border Patrol arrested more than 14,000 Indians on the Canadian border in the year ending Sept. 30, which amounted to 60% of all arrests along that border and more than 10 times the number two years ago.
By 2022, the Pew Research Center estimates there were more than 725,000 Indians living illegally in the U.S., behind only Mexicans and El Salvadorans.
In India, investigating officer Dilip Thakor said media attention had led to the arrest of three men in the Patel case, but hundreds of such cases don’t even reach the courts.
With so many Indians trying to get to the U.S., the smuggling networks see no need to warn off customers.
They “tell people that it’s very easy to cross into the U.S. They never tell them of the dangers involved,” Thakor said.
U.S. prosecutors allege Patel and Shand were part of a sprawling operation, with people to scout for business in India, acquire Canadian student visas, arrange transportation and smuggle migrants into the U.S., mostly via Washington state or Minnesota.
On Monday, at the federal courthouse in Fergus Falls, Minnesota, Patel, 29, and Shand, 50, will each face four counts related to human smuggling.
Patel’s attorney, Thomas Leinenweber, told The Associated Press his client came to America to escape poverty and build a better life and “now stands unjustly accused of participating in this horrible crime."
Shand's attorney's did not return calls seeking comment. Prosecutors say Shand told investigators that Patel paid him about $25,000 for the five trips.
His final passengers, though, never made it.
By 3 a.m. on Jan. 19, 2022, the 11 Indian migrants had spent hours wandering in gusting snow and brutal cold trying to find Shand. Many were in jeans and rubber work boots. None wore serious winter clothing.
Shand, though, was stuck. Prosecutors allege he had been heading to the pickup spot in a rented 15-passenger van when he drove into a ditch roughly a half-mile (0.8 kilometers) from the border.
Eventually, two migrants stumbled across the van. Sometime later, a passing pipeline company worker pulled the vehicle from the ditch.
Soon after that, a U.S. Border Patrol agent, on watch for migrants after boot prints were found near the border, pulled over Shand.
Shand repeatedly insisted there was no one else outside, even as five more desperate Indians wandered to the vehicle from the fields, including one going in and out of consciousness.
They had been walking for more than 11 hours.
There were no children among the migrants, but one man had a backpack filled with toys, children’s clothes and diapers. He said a family of four Indians asked him to hold it, because they had to carry their young son.
Sometime in the night they had become separated.
Hours later, the Patels' bodies were found just inside Canada, in a field near where the migrants had crossed into the U.S.
Jagdish was holding Dharmik, with daughter Vihangi nearby. Vaishaliben was a short walk away.
Hemant Shah, an Indian-born businessman living in Winnipeg, some 70 miles (110 kilometers) north of where the migrants were found, helped organize a virtual prayer service for the Patels.
He's accustomed to hard winters and can’t fathom the suffering they endured.
"How could these people have even thought about going and crossing the border?” Shah said.
Greed, he said, had taken four lives: “There was no humanity.”
Foley reported from Iowa City, Iowa. Associated Press writers Elliot Spagat in San Diego, Sheikh Saaliq in New Delhi, Tim Sullivan in Minneapolis and Ajit Solanki in Dingucha, India, contributed to this report.
An aerial view of Dingucha village in Gandhinagar, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
An advertising poster pasted on a shop at Dingucha village in Gandhinagar, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. Poster reads in Gujarati "Make your dream of going abroad come true", on top and "Payment after visa". (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
Women walks past an entrance gate of Dingucha village in Gandhinagar, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
House of Baldevbhai Patel, father of Jagdish Patel, who froze to death with his wife, son and daughter, in their bid to cross over to the United States from the Canada border, at Dingucha village in Gandhinagar district of Gujarat state, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
A statue of Monkey God Hanuman, installed as part of a religious celebrations, is seen in front of an entrance gate of Dingucha village in Gandhinagar, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
A woman carries firewood on her head at Dingucha village in Gandhinagar district of Gujarat state, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
A car moves past a signage of Dingucha village in Gandhinagar, India, Tuesday, Nov. 12, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)
This combination image shows left to right; undated photo released by the Sherburne County Sheriff’s Office shows Harshkumar Patel in Elk River, Minn., and undated photo released by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement shows Steve Shand. (AP Photo)
In an undated image released by the U.S. Attorney’s Office, shows items found in a migrant child’s backpack. (U.S. Attorney's Office via AP)
In an image released by the U.S. Attorney’s Office, shows how the migrants who survived the crossing were terribly inadequately dressed. (U.S. Attorney's Office via AP)
FILE - Road signage is posted just outside of Emerson, Manitoba, Jan. 20, 2022. (John Woods/The Canadian Press via AP, File)
FILE - Road signage is posted just outside of Emerson, Manitoba on Thursday, Jan. 20, 2022. (John Woods/The Canadian Press via AP)
FILE - A border marker, between the United States and Canada is shown just outside of Emerson, Manitoba, on Thursday, Jan. 20, 2022. (John Woods/The Canadian Press via AP, File)
