Introduction:
In truth, each of us is unique, gifted, and special. Despite this, in the spirit of a song by Joe Walsh, I will always consider myself an Ordinary Average Guy.
My name is Joe, and I turn 61 today.
The story of my fitness journey begins and ends with bodybuilding. I have learned many lessons from bodybuilding. One of the most important was discipline.
This single lesson gave me stability and success throughout my life. What follows intends to entertain, inspire, and prompt a sense of gratitude for being.
Here is my story.
Genesis:
I was born in 1959 into a working-class Italian American family. I had the typical childhood one might expect.
Three things stand out as influencing my young and impressionable mind by the time I was 5. They were Elvis, the Beatles, and most of all, Superman.
Being a fan of the nightly television broadcast of The Adventures of Superman was not enough for me.
When dragged along shopping with my mother, I soon discovered Superman comic books. Please, Mom, I begged.
In no time flat, it fast became a ritual to return home from shopping trips with a fresh new Superman comic book in hand.
The comic books would last me the entire week. They would keep me occupied daily until 6:00 pm each evening when the nightly television show aired.
A bit young to read, I would spend hours studying every visual nuance reflected in the images of the superhero.
To quell my burning desire to be like Superman, I recall asking my mother to pin a red towel onto my shirt. That way, I could wear a cape like his. That was easy.
It was more challenging convincing her to fashion the emblematic S for my chest. She often complied in satisfying my need to indulge in such a fantasy.
The fascination I had with the Man of Steel sowed the seeds that grew into my love for bodybuilding.
A decade later, when I was 15, it was 1974. We were fortunate enough to move from the Bronx to a nearby Connecticut suburb nine years earlier.
Despite this, I was a typical rebellious teenager filled with frustration and angst. I had to contend with the complex world around me.
Finding my place amid such chaos provided ample confusion and was not an easy task.
I hated schoolwork and any form of uninvited authority in general. As such, I did what any self-respecting ill-informed teenager would do - the least I could to get by.
Taking that flawed approach to the next level, I convinced my parents to allow me to quit high school. I promised them I would get a full-time job and that I would get my GED. Believe it or not, they agreed!
Quitting school was a bad idea on my part and a mistake on my parents for buying into my BS. Despite such ignorant aspirations and misdirection, I somehow ended up doing okay.
I convinced them to grant me this wish after I had already walked out of my high school building earlier that day. I walked out in the middle of social studies as my teacher yelled at me in front of the class for not bringing my history book.
I was quite lucky to convince them.
Before getting formal permission from my parents, it was amid the scolding from my teacher that I decided to quit.
I stood up from my desk and walked past the class from the back of the room. I hung a right toward the exit door, stepped through, and closed the door behind me.
I continued my final exit to the fading sound of shrieking insults from my teacher. Her commands for me to return to my place went unanswered.
What started it all...
Several weeks before, I began an elective sports-related course to fill my schedule. I figured it would be a breeze – no books, no homework – my kind of schooling for sure.
Mr. Higgins, a science teacher, undertook this particular elective. He structured it around Sports Illustrated Magazine. Each issue was replete with a host of varied sporting events from around the world. The format provided a variety of sports-related topics for the class to explore.
The class, comprised of male jock-types, of which I was not one. I didn’t fit anywhere among the several “types” established amid the social ranks of high school.
I was a rebel, a renegade, and I always felt that I belonged elsewhere.
Anyway, Mr. Higgins was a rather stoic character. He smoked a pipe, was of Irish descent with red wavy hair, and had a full leprechaun-like beard to match. He seemed to take on the persona of a coach in heading up this casual filler-course.
At the end of the first class I attended, which was on a Friday, Mr. Higgins issued an assignment. He began rounding the room, walked by my desk, and dropped an issue of Sports Illustrated on it.
He then said, Pick an article from this magazine, write a report about it, and present it to the class on Monday. He kept walking – doing the same to the kid sitting in front of me.
My first reaction was anger. How I can get out of doing this stupid report, I asked myself. The idea of reporting on some sporting event in which I had no interest repulsed me. Having to do so in front of a bunch of jocks made it even worse.
Annoyed about doing homework, I sat there agitated. I began to flip through the pages of the magazine with reluctance and disdain to see what was in it. I thought that in the process, I could figure out a way to get out of doing it.
Within moments of flipping through the magazine, several images captivated me.
The issue that Mr. Higgins dropped on my desk contained a spread entitled, The Men and the Myth. The article covered the 10th annual Mr. Olympia Contest.
Driven by the persona of Arnold, the mass media ended up giving this event much attention. In the history of bodybuilding, the Mr. Olympia contest of 1974 became legendary.
Before actually reading the article penned by Richard W. Johnston, I became awestruck by an array of photos.
The images of the then-unknown Arnold Schwarzenegger and his cohorts stunned me. These images took me back to the days of my childhood, flipping through the pages of Superman comics.
All the fascination I experienced as a child admiring the Man of Steel came flooding back when I saw these powerful images.
These men were living, breathing real-life superheroes! They looked as powerful, mind-blowing, and impressive as the fictional Superman character.
The immediate and unanticipated revelation blew me away. Within seconds, I became mesmerized. What was once a fictional childhood fascination was now something real. Something I could pursue!
Something became clear to me after reading the article. Despite the chaos of my unstructured existence, I had found something with which to latch on.
Arnold had already spun his irresistible charm in winning over the author of the piece. He followed through further by delivering a stunning performance at the 10th annual Mr. Olympia Contest. Here is how Johnston described it.
The athletic and artistic display communicates as much emotion as a Bobby Thompson home run, or a Joe Namath bomb thrown 60 arching yards 10 seconds before the final gun.
Also attending the 1974 Olympia was writer Charles Gaines and photographer George Butler. Their book Pumping Iron brought bodybuilding from a shadowy sub-culture into the mainstream.
The media and public would soon adopt a different perspective. They would come to view the sport and community of bodybuilders in a far more positive light.
At the time, I had no idea that I was witnessing, living amidst, and engaging myself with bodybuilding at the very cusp of what was the dawn of the modern-day fitness craze that has since enveloped the entire world.
On My Way:
I went ahead and did the report and delivered it to the class the following Monday. I did not care how the presentation went over with my peers.
Before returning to my seat, the stoic pat on the back from Mr. Higgins did carry some weight. What mattered most to me was that I had found something to latch onto and motivate me into action!
I then set out for the local newsstand to scour the magazine racks. I was looking for anything I could find related to bodybuilding or weight training.
Newsstands or local libraries were the only places to find any in-depth information. Not quite the internet, but enough to get the job done.
To my delight, there were several Muscle Mags from which to choose. I could only afford one. I settled on the May 1975 issue of Muscle Training Illustrated. I did so because the guy on the cover had the type of Superman-like physique that appealed to me most.
Sports Illustrated was the first magazine that affected my life. The 1975 issue of MTI was the second. Featured on the MTI cover was Chris Dickerson, who seven years later went on to win 1982, Mr. Olympia.
I soon found an old sand-filled barbell set from the family attic. I began designing workout programs based on what I was reading in the muscle magazines.
Within a month or so, I started to see some progress. That inspired me to continue and to learn as much as I could, and that I did.
I subscribed to the first magazine I bought. After several months of getting the basics down, I continued to make some decent gains.
I was proud, motivated, and my life was changing for the better!
The third magazine of import, the March 1976 issue of Muscle Training Illustrated, was more sentimental. It had an enduring influence on me for the following reasons.
A month into the subscription, I noticed that the magazine had a regular reader photo contest. Six months into training and proud of my early gains, I decided to enter.
I sent them the requisite photo with a brief description and an update of my progress.
When I received that March 1976 issue, I went straight to the photo contest page. There I found my submitted photo listed in the Reader Photo Contest section of the magazine. I was ecstatic!
Thanks to E-Bay, I was able to get a copy of this issue. My jaw dropped when I realized that Tom Platz also appeared in that very same reader photo contest!
The discovery of sharing space on a page graced with the iconic Tom Platz put the icing on the cake for me. That was the 3rd influential magazine of my past, and one that I will forever cherish.
All In:
Over the next three years, from the age of 14 thru 17, I became committed to bodybuilding. At 16, I began training at the local YMCA.
Apart from a few select executive type facilities, there were no commercial gyms in my area back in 1975. The Y was all there was.
In 1976, I got word that a new health club was opening. It was a small facility with separate hours for men and women. It only had two showers, but it had a sauna. It also had Olympic free weights, pulleys, cables, dumbbells, and plate-loaded machines.
It also had Ken Johnson. Kenny was an energetic, rather charismatic, well-muscled, and conditioned bodybuilder/athlete, who ran the place.
Ken Johnson and the Darien Health Club were sources of great inspiration. The gym became my second home.
Over time, I saw tangible results from my consistent efforts. I was gaining strength and laying the foundation for a solid physique.
Not only that, but my self-confidence soared. Practicing such discipline and applying the knowledge I was acquiring bolstered my self-worth.
The lessons of commitment and delayed gratification continue to serve me today.
The gains I made over those first few years were substantial. From the 140-lbs I weighed at the time of the MTI Reader Photo Contest, I had packed on 30+ lbs of muscle by the time I was 17.
By then, I was working out 6-days a week, 2-hours per session, posted a PR squat of 315, and bench at 225. I was on my way to bodybuilding greatness!
Nothing short of Armageddon could stop me.
Coming of Age:
After quitting high school, I was quite content working a menial job at a local department store. During this time, I came of age as it were.
One of the highlights I recall was taking my very first girlfriend to see the premiere of Pumping Iron. I was in my glory, and she did not seem to mind at all. She was very much into it!
Toward the end of my 17th year, the milestone of turning 18 years old was dead ahead. The thought of it spurred on a great deal of contemplation about what that entailed.
For me, it meant becoming a man.
That prompted me to assess the trajectory my life was taking. I began to contemplate my options in forging a path forward to achieve my goals and ambitions.
My working-class upbringing instilled in me the need to work hard and save money for the future. That led me to follow the examples set forth by my elder brother and father.
Both started in the construction trades. They later elevated themselves to well-paid sales and management positions. As such, construction was a predictable career choice for me.
A few months before I turned 18, I heard about a job opening at the company where my dad and brother worked. I applied and got the job.
However, bodybuilding was still my number one priority.
Despite this, I decided to take the job to finance my training. I also looked at it as a general plan-B in case my bodybuilding call to glory somehow might end up going unanswered.
Even though my workouts shifted to the evenings, it remained a priority amid my daily routine. After evaluating my first full week on the job, the jury was still out on this new position.
What seemed most important to me was the simple fact that I had a legitimate grown-up job for the first time in my life.
That is what kept me in the game. So that was a good thing, right? I thought so, anyway.
The following week I kept putting one foot in front of the other, showing up for work every day like clockwork. I was beginning to acclimate to the new routine while getting the hang of things at my new job. Life was challenging but manageable.
Tragic Derailment:
Not even two weeks into the new job, my worst nightmare unfolded. Without warning, the random chaos of life engulfed me in a way that I would not wish on my worst enemy.
To make a painful and long story short, in the wake of a work-related accident, I lost vision in one of my eyes.
Afterward, I endured a rather hellish and life-altering event in the several months following.
For better or worse, this pivotal event changed the course of my life forever.
The trauma and its aftermath shattered my bodybuilding dreams. I had no choice but to move forward with my life. I had to do the best I could with what remained of my once-invincible persona.
Would I have been better off if such misfortune and its tragic aftermath passed me by?
Sure, it might have been better. Had I dwelled upon that possibility, though, I would be failing to grasp one of the most important lessons of being. That lesson is to do whatever it takes to overcome the inherent struggles of life. Transcending the challenges life thrusts upon us is a big part of what makes life worth living.
The way to view such challenges is to know that in overcoming them, they make us stronger, better people.
Picking up the Pieces:
Over the next 30-years, I tried getting back into the gym on many occasions. Sometimes, I had good runs and made modest gains. Other times, I hardly applied myself by going through the motions without any real effort.
I was never able to recapture the drive and ambition I once had to pursue bodybuilding.
Throughout my twenties, thirties, and forties, I was unable to harness energy in the gym. Despite this, I am 100% certain that the discipline ingrained in me from the success of my early bodybuilding experience provided me with the skills and confidence to venture into construction-related sales and design work.
Furthermore, the foundational work ethic and self-control those early years of bodybuilding instilled played a defining role in providing me with the requisite tools to start, own, and operate several successful businesses.
Upon turning 50, with all the groundwork laid from years past, I set my sights on retiring early.
I wanted to get off the treadmill and live out the rest of my life doing what I loved. By 50-years old, that is what I did. I continue to do so today, albeit in a minimalist Spartan-like fashion.
Dropping the Ball:
Everyone knows that bad things will happen if you stop training and lose sight of good health habits.
The first is that you will lose all your gains twice as fast as it took to get them.
It is common knowledge that we need to keep pushing forward to make gains. When we achieve the goals we aim for, we then have to maintain them with ongoing diligence and conviction.
Nothing worthwhile in life is free or comes our way without hard work, dedication, and sacrifice.
Well, the same truth applies to the grander scale of our lifetimes as well. Say that you led a healthy lifestyle for most of your life. Then in your forties, fifties, or beyond, you decide it is time to take it easy, kick back, and smell the roses.
Making such a decision is a big mistake. All it takes is 5 or 10 years of neglect to ruin a lifetime of healthy living.
Becoming sedentary and inactive as one gets older is a disastrous lifestyle choice.
That was what I allowed myself to fall victim too. When I should have been doing the exact opposite, I began to get lazy.
Several years of poor eating and sleeping habits, coupled with too much alcohol, got me in trouble. I found myself in failing health. My golden years were looking rather bleak at that juncture.
I woke up two years ago on my 59th birthday, realizing that I was giving up all that I had worked so hard to achieve. Worse than that, I was aware that my health was degrading.
In effect, I was witnessing in real-time what it was like to die a slow and miserable death.
If I did not make some drastic changes and soon, the writing was on the wall, and its message assured.
Prolonged misery, suffering, and early death were messages I was not taking.
I had a reawakening that morning and decided enough was enough.
I was not going out that way. I made a promise to myself that morning with the utmost conviction.
I promised myself that I would not go out with a feeble whimper. I promised myself instead that I would go out with guns blazing - with the pride of a Spartan Warrior.
Coming Back Full Circle:
How did I start back up? I began with simple floor exercises three days a week, along with indoor cardio of all things.
I was so out of shape that I could not even do a single push-up. Minimal efforts at cardio rendered me useless within minutes.
Despite such a pathetic re-start, I was not giving up.
Determined to win this battle, prevail, and ride off into the sunset like a true Spartan Warrior, I pressed on.
That is the promise I made to myself, and that is the promise I am going to keep.
I still have outstanding health issues to contend with, though. But, my return to bodybuilding has helped me in mitigating them.
After only a few months of training, I felt like a brand new man! I now have a renewed sense of confidence, and my outlook on life is far more optimistic than it has been in years.
Within a month, I was able to do 15 push-ups. I changed my diet and drinking habits. After six weeks, I began to see tangible results. Muscle memory is a miraculous thing!
Taking advantage of my momentum, I drew upon my longstanding bodybuilding knowledge and experience.
First, I drafted myself a 4-day per week workout schedule. After that, I put together a 5-day split. Finally, 9-months later, I began running a 6-day training routine, which I maintain today.
The thing that differed most from my past was implementing a sound nutrition plan. I always knew the importance of diet. However, I never placed enough focus on getting my food and supplements right in the past.
I made diet and nutrition a number one priority in facilitating my comeback.
Going through a long process of trial and error, I learned how the body responds to nutrition. It was well worth it. Getting meal plans and nutrition right has made all the difference in the world.
Thoughts of competing in an over-60 contest have entered my mind. The jury is still out on that. I need at least another solid two or three years of training under my belt before putting myself up on a stage.
Given my decades of experience and knowledge, I have moved forward with launching Incredible Body Transformations, an online coaching service.
I have learned a lot from bodybuilding throughout my lifetime. I have learned a great deal more over the past two years.
If I had one word to describe what it takes to achieve specific goals in any venture, it would be relentlessness.
Despite bad odds and the inherent failures that are all but certain in life, one must be relentless in their continual pursuit of knowledge.
One must also be relentless in their commitment to themselves and others.
The relentless pursuit of our deepest passions and convictions is an essential ingredient for success.
In closing, I hope that you enjoyed my tale. Thanks to bodybuilding, here I am, on my way - once again, after all these years.
With the grace of God, I will remain steadfast on the path and virtue of bodybuilding until the very end.
As I come full circle, I look forward to the most vibrant, and robust closing chapter in my life. I expect nothing less than decisive victory.
Replete with pride & glory, I will forge my way toward the eternal sunset.
I wish each of you a successful journey regardless of where you may be within your sacred circle of life.
Until next time,
-Coach Joe
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