Some reasons don’t start with fitness.
They start with life.
My dad passed away when he was 41 years old.
I was 19.
That’s a difficult age to lose a parent. You don’t fully understand what’s happening yet, but you feel the weight of it immediately.
Years later, when I look at the people I coach every day, I notice something that still stops me.
Many of them are that same age.
Early forties.
Moms and dads.
Raising one, two, sometimes three kids.
Still learning how to be parents while trying to hold everything else together.
It’s not easy.
It’s heavy.
And it’s meaningful.
When I Think Back to That Year
When I think about 2010, the year my dad was dying, a few things always come to mind.
- He was stressed
- He was commuting every day from New Jersey to Queens
- He was exhausted
- He was carrying too much, with nowhere to put it
There were responsibilities everywhere, but no real outlet.
No structure.
No space to breathe.
No place to slow things down.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much that year would shape me.
But looking back now, it shaped everything.
Related: What Great Coaches Taught Me About Mastery and Standards
Coaching Became the Language I Needed
Today, coaching is who I am.
It’s shaped how I see people.
How I see work.
How I understand effort, discipline, and responsibility.
Coaching feels like poetry to me now.
Poetry in motion.
Every program.
Every session.
Every class.
They all feel like conversations I never got to have.
Conversations I wish I could have had with my dad.
“If you keep doing this consistently, you’ll think better.
You’ll do better.
You’ll be better.”
“I know it’s early.
This is four percent of your day.
If we take care of this, the rest of the day moves with rhythm and flow.”
That’s what structure does.
It doesn’t overwhelm your life.
It gives your life a pace.
Who I’m Really Coaching Every Day
I had one amazing parent.
And I lost one amazing parent.
That truth lives quietly in everything I do.
When I coach a dad, I think about his kids watching him.
Not just how strong he is physically, but how he carries himself.
- His posture
- His discipline
- His presence
That example gives kids confidence. It shows them what steady effort looks like.
When I coach a mom, I think about how much she’s holding together.
- Kids
- Career
- Home
- Responsibilities that never really stop
And I think about what happens when there’s no time left for herself.
Because when there’s no outlet, stress always finds another way out.
When I coach a son or daughter, I think about belief.
I think about helping them understand something early:
- You might not be good at something yet
- But you can decide how good you want to become
- And there is a path forward if you’re willing to stay with it
That belief matters more than talent.
Related: Youth Training Guide for Parents and Young Athletes
Why This Work Feels Personal
I believe faith sends me the people who need this energy.
The moms.
The dads.
The kids.
That’s why I’m their coach.
It may sound strange to say, but it’s honest:
I don’t need my dad anymore in the way I once did.
I’m surrounded by amazing parents every day who remind me of both my mom and my dad.
What I do Monday through Friday is poetry in motion.
Work my parents would recognize.
Work they would respect.
Work they would be proud of.
And that’s why I coach.
Related: Fitness Should Support People Who Are Trying to Get Fit
