Stories from the Platform

There’s more to me than most people think or really seem really care. Too many are set in their own minds and assumptions and one thing that I was taught early in life was that

“Assumption is the Mother of All Fuck Ups”. 

Today, I once again got the proverbial ‘kick in the balls’ and now Sally has told me this before and she just reminded me again that I try way too damn hard to change people’s opinion of me and worse than that, I actually get bothered when I just can’t get someone to understand….

I've started sharing more of my personal journey back to the World of Physical Culture* from not just my heart surgery but the 3 achilles ruptures and the serious life threatening and life altering 9 month battle that I waged JUST to walk again after the doctor fucked up my achilles and ankle surgery (it would take another 8-9 months for me to consider myself whole again in the gym) which the sepsis I battled was also part of the damage to my heart that landed me heading to bypass surgery early in the morning of 10 June 2014.   

I want to do is use my journey to tell the story that lead me to where I am today so others in the World of Physical Culture might learn something and/or be motivated by my own hardheaded fuck ups to take better care of themselves BUT also maybe they'll understand that if something does happen to know that it’s not the death sentence to their strength training journey that they or that some doctors think it is because I’m standing here as LIVING proof that it damn sure isn't a death sentence. 

I'm writing this today because I got subtle message from a supposed friend for sharing my journey telling me that I was doing it for attention but that coward didn’t have the balls to tell me to my face. So I’ll say this…maybe I'm finally listening to what Sally has said (please don't tell her I'll never hear the end of it!! hahah!!)  ‘I have spent too damn much energy and time in my life worried more about what others thought of me and not ever thinking of what I THINK OF ME’  and the ugly truth has its roots way before social media but it seems that when you’re at a low point in life (we all have the highs and lows of life’s cycle… its inevitable) you worry more about what others think of you and that will cause you to hesitate and doubt yourself or your goals in your life. 

When I was a kid I honestly cared more about what others thought of me and worse I had to constantly work for my Dad and Mom or even Step Dad’s approval that I never got as a kid or honestly never ever got for that matter.  I left home for the Army in 1980 as soon as I graduated from high school and I hardly returned except for a few visits which quickly reminded me of why I had left in the first place.

I have nothing but the memories in my head from growing up, my mom gave away the most important things that I had in my life like my weights and Strength and Health magazines along with any trinket from growing up.  In 1996 while I was waiting tables at Dick’s Last Resort, we were all watching the Opening Ceremony of the Atlanta Olympics while I got called up the cashiers station to the phone and my Mom was on the other end. That day she apologized to me for never listening to, or believing in or even helping me in the dreams and goals that I had growing up. It's not like she didn't know I had them, HELL they were written on notecards tacked on the walls in my bedroom.  I worked hard towards those dreams and goals but without help or support I had no choice… I had to leave home and never come back and that's exactly what I did.  My Dad never saw his lack of support as anything of importance even when Sally pointed it out to him just fucking oblivious to the facts.  Once while he was visiting and we were eating, I got up to use the restroom and the table next to us commented on my physical size.  My dad overheard them and went on to describe many of my accolades from competition and coaching so when I returned to the table Sally asked him, "Are you proud of your son and all he's accomplished in his life?"  he said "Yes I am" and all she said was.... "Well have you told him?"   Awkward silence!!  The man only told me one time in my life that he loved me and he was drunk going through pictures when my Mom and sisters were away as they were getting a divorce.  He never once told me he was proud of me.

Now here's something that no one in my family or any of my high school friends ever knew (Sally knows from my stories) but they will all know now.  During the 2 years we lived up in Rogers City Michigan I competed in AAU Juniors for Shot Put and Weightlifting.  A friend of mine and his Dad would cover for me saying that I was spending the weekend at their house and instead he’d drive me 60 miles to Alpena where I’d catch a Friday night bus some 6+ hours to Detroit to compete and then take a late Saturday night bus ride home where he’d picked me up in the early morning hours and bring me home.  One summer I asked to spend a couple weeks with my dad down in Detroit and stay my my Grandma Betty’s house but in reality what I did was fly with the folks on my AAU team to Sacramento California to compete at the AAU Junior National Track and Field Championships. I saved the money needed by working on my friend's farms or babysitting.  Thank God no one asked who I was staying with or where my parents were. My friends on the team who knew about my home life just put me in a room with them with no one the wiser. 

The shit part of all of this is that I had to leave my trophies at my friend’s house and unfortunately I never retrieved them when I left home for the Army and when my family moved away they had no clue about what I had done so... I don’t have the trophies or medals I earned and no pictures because unlike everyone else I had no one there to cheer for me but what I do have are unbelievable memories that can never be taken away from me.  

Now don’t get me wrong I’m glad that my Mom finally came to this realization and even more that she told me and even though it was 16 years later it still was nice to hear.  I have to say this though up to that point I had to that point a pretty damn decent life in sports but it sure would have been great to accept that half scholarship I was offered to throw shot put and discus and go to college (yeah back then they could offer half scholarships to sports other than football) but I didn’t have the financial help or to be honest the grades to go so it was ‘Off to the Army’ for me and not a better decision I could have made!! The Army was the first step in guiding me towards the man I am today, I say the first step because I finally had the time to stop and discover things about myself but I also was blessed to have a couple great people enter into my life and provide me some guidance. 

What I learned was that I really had a deep love and passion for Strength. While stationed in Germany I would travel about 20 miles to a good gym but if I got off duty late and missed the only bus from base I was left to hitchhike, which I and others did quite a bit.  A few times I would take a few days leave and travel to a gym somewhere just to train and hang out in the towns while staying on American bases. I traveled to France, England, Spain, Italy and even Portugal just to train.  I enjoyed traveling by trains and busses back then. Yep it was as simple and glorious as it sounds!!  When I got stationed at Ft Polk in Louisiana I discovered a whole new world of strength training and having a good base gym within walking distance of my barracks was amazing. The NCO who ran the dining facility I was assigned to was a competitive powerlifter so I became one of his training partners when one day he told me that there was a big powerlifting meet happening in Austin Texas (about 5-6 hour drive) so I put in for some leave time and headed with him and a few others to Austin. I brought along my book Inside Powerlifting figuring that maybe I’d see Terry Todd and ask him to sign it along with get some advice on becoming stronger. I did get to meet him and talk to him, I remember him being ‘Larger than Life’ and really nice. Many years later I was able to tell him and thank him but anyways, back to my story, he told me that I should go to Corpus Christi and find his cousin Rick Gaugler and learn from him.  Now I’ve said this so many times I don’t think Terry realized I was only visiting Austin that I was stationed a long way away but what’s a 6-7 hour drive if there’s lifting and of course the beach!! I made that drive on my motorcycle every other weekend for a couple months until my unit was deployed half way around the world but when I got back to Ft Polk I only had 6 months left on my enlistment and no damn way I was going to re-enlist that’s for damn sure but that’s a story for another blog… so I couldn’t be deployed in my job. I bought a used CJ-5 Jeep and was assigned to CQ duty, if you’ve been in the Army you know but basically I was on duty from 6pm to 5am on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday so soon as I got off duty on Thursday morning I’d eat a huge breakfast (remember my buddy ran the mess hall) then I’d pack up and head out returning to base just in time to clean up and be in PT formation on Monday morning at 6am (it was the only PT I had to make for the week). I did this drive 2-3 times a month finally meeting Rick and being able to train with him so it was a no-brainer that when I was discharged I packed up and headed down the long road to Corpus Christi Texas one last time and never looked back. 

Stay Tuned … I’ll share more of the Stories from the Platform in the near future until then

PLAY HARD … TRAIN HARDER … NO EXCUSES   

* I use physical culture for lack of a better all encompassing word of strength sports and its beautiful history