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Heritage High School sophomore Will Sanders shakes hands with Dan Dietz while other members of the football team wait to thank Dietz for helping them with their practice July 24.
At 7:25 p.m., they attacked the course.

They slammed their sledgehammers in the ground, pounding it as though it had stolen their iPods.

They sprinted up and down the hill, racing as though their legs would fall off if they didn't keep moving.

They pushed through sit-ups as quickly as possible.

They shifted 45-pound sandbags from one shoulder to the next and carried them 10 yards, some struggling, some breezing through.

And never did they do it alone.

About 40 Heritage High School football players had shown up for an evening of weight lifting and speed training on July 24. The workout seemed a welcome break from the morning routine.

But when they got to the high school, the training they went through was tougher than anything they'd experienced before.

Last season Dan Dietz spent the high school football season walking the Heritage sidelines at the behest of Heritage football coach Mike Griebel.

Dan's son Danny, a Navy SEAL, was killed in Afghanistan on June 28, 2005.

Danny played football and graduated from Heritage High School.

Griebel was watching television one day and saw Dan Dietz run local athletes through a Navy SEAL-type obstacle course on a local television station. An idea popped into Griebel's head.

Introductions

Most of the Eagles players knew Dan Dietz - if not by name, then by sight. He was one of the few non-coaches permitted to walk up and down the sidelines.

Now he was talking to them as they sat on the grass at Heritage High.

"What we have tonight for you is a challenge," Dietz said. "It's a special forces training exercise. It's going to kick your butt."

Your mind might get tired, Dietz told them, but your body can keep going. What the body can do is unlimited.

Dan Dietz started to talk about his son, but emotions took over. Standing in front of 40 boys on the verge of becoming men - boys who might commit to the military the way his son did, boys who reminded him of his son at that age - overcame Dan Dietz.

Fallen son

Danny Dietz, of Littleton, was killed in Afghanistan when he and three fellow SEALs were ambushed by Taliban fighters. Despite being wounded, Danny fought off the attackers for another 45 minutes before succumbing to the injury. His bravery, dedication and valor during the firefight earned him the Navy Cross posthumously.

A bronze statue of Danny was erected in Berry Park on the Fourth of July in 2007 to honor the city's fallen soldier. The Eagles started their own tribute last season. On the first day of practice, the Eagles plant a plaque at the base of their practice field to remind them and to inspire them.

The challenge

In a circuitous route, the course Dan Dietz set up for the Eagles would run the athletes through five stages. First, they would do knee bends while carrying a 45-pound weight over one shoulder 10 yards, turnaround, shift the weight to the other shoulder and carry it back.

They would run to the next stage: pounding a sledgehammer into the ground a number of times. Run to the next stage: run up and down a short hill three times and finish with pushups. Run to the next stage: do as many chin-ups on the soccer goal crossbar as possible. Next stage: lying with their heads pointed downhill, do 20 sit-ups. Run back to the first stage and do it all over again.

No total number of circuits was set. No time limit to guide them.

Coach Greibel pointed to an area of grass. When you're done, that's where you sit, he explained. When you're absolutely exhausted and can't go any more, go sit down. There's no shame in sitting down and stopping. Even if a player couldn't get through one circuit, sit down because injuries were to be avoided.

They should have dubbed it "Quitter's Hill."

One last caveat: The players were to do the drills in pairs. One sophomore would pair with one upper classman. Under no circumstances was one to leave the other behind - like Danny Dietz, who never stopped fighting.

Teamwork

The encouragement between the two-man teams was, well, encouraging.

"Let's go, let's go," they said to each other as they prepared to run to the next stage.

One player struggled to reach the crossbar of the goal. Without hesitation, his partner knelt to the ground, his back parallel with the sky, offering it as a stepstool.

Every two-man team finished the circuit once. Then they finished the circuit twice.

Quitter's Hill sat alone, inviting but avoided. The teams ran past it every time they switched from running up and down a hill, to chin-ups, to sit-ups.

They finished a third circuit, though slower than the first two. The running between stages became more like jogging or quick walking. Sometimes it became stopping, but only for a moment. Then they were off, Quitter's Hill pushed to the back of their thoughts once again.

One player stood bent over, desperately trying to recover. His partner stood next to him, patiently waiting.

Another grabbed his partner's arm and put it over his shoulder, letting him lean on him while getting to the next stage. After 25 grueling minutes, Griebel blew his whistle. Quitter's Hill remained vacant.

Catharsis

It was over.

They gathered in the middle of the field, huffing and puffing.

"I was never more exhausted in my life," said Wes Korisky, a junior who saw playing time in one varsity game last season. "But I would do it again. I have something to prove."

Korisky looked ready to quit at times. He didn't. His partner Al Erle helped him push on.

"I was about to [quit]," Korisky said. "I didn't want to be the first on that hill."

As the group dispersed, each player shook Dan Dietz's hand. "I want them to see they can go further than they think they can," Dan Dietz said.

Heritage starting quarterback Mitch Griebel said the team decided it might continue the SEAL drill throughout the season. The physical drill itself might not be the most beneficial part - that thought wasn't lost on the players.

"We're helping him get through his loss of Danny," Mitch Griebel said. "Obviously, we're not his sons, but we're helping him get through it."

As the boys walked away, Dan Dietz waited patiently and talked about the opportunity to put the players through something akin to what his son went through.

"There's a feeling you get," Dan Dietz said of losing his son. "You have a guilty feeling, you could have done more. "It's a healing process for me to help young kids."

And being around those young kids brings back the fondest of memories.

"I think of my son," he said, "when he was growing up."

303-566-4106 | skaniewski@ccnewspapers.com

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