About Us

---

I became interested in fitness and nutrition in high school but my fitness journey took a wrong turn down a dark alley. I became obsessed with thinking about food and trying to be healthy but the pressure to live up to my self-imposed high standards sent me headlong into a binge eating disorder. In public I deprived myself and wouldn't be seen eating anything unhealthy. In private I binged on sugar...ice cream, chocolate, and my absolute favorite: E.L. Fudge cookies. I felt completely out of control as if a force outside myself was dictating my actions. I would eat well past the point of fullness and hide the evidence (like candy wrappers) so I wouldn't damage my image as a health nut. On top of this I had a fear of becoming fat, so I exercised like a fiend to compensate for my binges. These were dark days and I couldn't imagine how I would ever be able to seize control back from this outside force that wielded such power over me.

The turning point came when I realized I needed to gain weight to meet the minimum weight standards to join the Air Force. I knew that gaining fat by just eating more and moving less, although probably the easiest thing to do, was not a valid solution in my book. Any weight I gained was going to be muscle. I started lifting. Heavy. I remember the thrill of seeing a peak on my bicep for the first time and how it fueled me to push harder and see what else I could sculpt on my little frame. Most importantly, I knew I needed to fuel my body appropriately to build this fascinating new muscle, and I was able to chip away at the ingrained habits I had developed from my dysfunctional relationship with food. Strength training saved me.

It took years to totally eradicate the binge eating problem but I am now in a place that I would never have thought possible when I was in the grips of my eating disorder in my teens and 20s. I never deny myself now if I want something sweet...and will even eat it in public! But truthfully I prefer healthier foods 95% of the time. I've finally achieved balance and I love being able to draw on my past challenges with food to help my clients see their way through their own struggles and come out on top.

On the exercise side of things, I've kept up the strength training and expect to be doing it into my 90s at least! I credit my muscle mass with helping me maintain my weight for three decades, which includes three pregnancies, the timeframe when my kiddos were younger and I didn't work out as much as I would have liked, and my current status as a post-menopausal 50-something, whose metabolism is supposed to be taking a nosedive if you believe conventional wisdom. My clients know it's useless to protest when I say, "Time to go up in weight" because I'm such a believer in the power of adding muscle.

For the last 15 years I've complemented my strength training with trail running. I spent about one-third of those years as an injured runner who was too stupid, near-sighted, and hard-headed to back off on the mileage and do the rehab I needed to heal (a common illness in runners). Thankfully I finally learned that lesson and I'm back to running strong. The upside of those rough years is that I came away with wisdom that I can use to save others from making my mistakes. I have the best job in the world...being able to draw on my 30+ years of self-experimentation with fitness and nutrition to help my clients and our gym members find the most efficient and direct paths to success.

Growing up significantly younger than my 3 older brothers, I learned how to compete with people who were twice my age and size. It was either keep up or get left behind. Without cell phones and video games to captivate our attention, we were out from dawn to dusk running through the woods, climbing trees, and playing pick-up games of football. The one indoor activity we indulged in weekly was watching professional wrestling on TV. All of the violent moves my brothers saw, they tried out on me. Although it made me tougher at the time, you'll see that it came back to bite me later in life.

After my brothers had grown up and moved out and we were no longer dependent on each other for entertainment, I found my feet firmly rooted on a tennis court. I was able to perform at a relatively high level, but my body definitely felt the beating that asphalt courts will put on your feet, knees, and back.

In my early 20s a couple friends got me into weight lifting. Although initially I started lifting weights to be a better tennis player, as typically happens with young guys, my ego took over and I began trying to lift heavier and heavier weights. I got pretty strong for a non-competitive lifter, but the heavy weights took their toll on me too.

I never stopped working out and lifting, but my sport of choice pivoted again in my late 30s when some gym members asked me to play on their baseball team. I soon discovered I had a knack for pitching and the endurance to do it for back-to-back games in 90 degree heat, earning me the title of "Ironman" on the ball fields.

Then around the age of 50, my body began to let me down. I don't know if it was from the wrestling moves I endured from my brothers as a child, the pounding on the tennis courts, all the heavy squatting and bench pressing I had done, the years of throwing off the pitching mound with all of my weight coming down on one leg while violently rotating, or maybe the whole mix. Between the ages of 52 and 56, I underwent 4 spinal surgeries...however I never missed a baseball season. It seemed that the choice was mine to make. I could either sit and take what life was dishing out, or I could stand up and fight back. I chose to fight back. Although I'm not throwing as hard as I used to, I've learned to be more crafty with my pitches to get the same results. Father Time may have knocked me down a peg or two, but I'm still able to compete at a relatively high level with guys half my age.

While I still enjoy playing and competing, I have found that I am even more passionate about sharing what I have learned and developing young players through coaching. I started coaching my son's little league team 15 years ago, and switched to fast pitch softball when my daughters started playing. Today I coach a fast pitch travel ball team, and I am the assistant coach of a high school team. As a gym owner and athlete into my late 50s, I emphasize to my players the importance of strength and conditioning, in addition to just learning the skills of their sport. Stronger and faster with the endurance to go all day is always an advantage. I credit my conditioning with allowing me to be the type of coach who shows them the proper way to do things instead of just telling them. I firmly believe that players and parents appreciate a coach who doesn't just know but can DO.

I still train adults, but my passion is working with young athletes. I specialize in strength and conditioning, pitching lessons for baseball, and hitting lessons for both baseball and softball. It's obvious this body of mine won't hold up indefinitely, so pouring my accumulated knowledge and wisdom into the next generation of athletes is (almost) as good as being able to play forever myself.

 I started lifting weights when I was 13. I got into it because my friend, Dave, and I used to beat each other up on the school bus, and because he was bigger, I always ended up taking more of a beating. I wanted to get stronger so I could win. Unfortunately, when you're 13 all anyone cares about is if you have abs and how much you can bench so that is what I focused on multiple times per week. It worked. I got stronger than Dave. But in the process I developed several muscle imbalances in my shoulders, back, and hips. My chest and abs got so strong that they curled me over. My spine was looking more like a straight curve in one direction than the slight S curve that it should have. I had constant shoulder problems playing baseball, and my back hurt so bad that at one point when I was 15 I couldn't laugh, cough, or sneeze while standing up without collapsing from the back pain. I ignored the 2 great resources I had telling me what I was doing wrong because what self-respecting 15 year old is going to listen to his parents, especially on something they're experts at? I eventually figured it out and was able to fix myself.

When I was 18 I got on a bicycle and rode to Florida, a trip of 1010 miles. When I got there I realized that I couldn't get a job because no one wants to hire a strange, homeless 18 year old with no resume or recommendations. I quickly realized that I wanted more adventure and I didn't have the discipline to put myself to work, so I joined the Marines.

I got out 5 years later in worse shape than I went in. My body had lost all of its structural integrity and I was not able to work out the way I wanted to. I had dislocated my shoulder 5 times, a rib was sticking out of my chest, my knees were loose, my feet constantly hurt, I had fractured my L5 vertebra, and ruptured a disc. It hurt to move almost anything. On top of that, I had a heat stroke so now I get dizzy when it's hot out.

I have spent the past few years learning how to cope with and mitigate all of these injuries. I have gotten very good at finding the source of and correcting these problems, and any others that come up. I have gotten back to lifting, but now I do it with a focus on stability, mobility, and flexibility, resulting in a balance of strength and ability, with no more injuries. Nothing is more rewarding than sharing what I've learned with others who need it, and helping them to achieve things that they didn't think possible.