Ascent

Coach Woody Hayes was once quoted as saying “Anything easy ain’t worth a damn.” and the statement has stuck in my head for many years. In an [un]published blog of mine, I have been chronicling a few different chapters of my life, including the decade-long period where I lifted heavy weights on a daily basis.

At that time, I was chasing a goal which had been sparked by a simple comment my brother made. “Aaron, I don’t think anybody has big arms unless they’re 17in around” he told me when I was 17 years-old. At that time, I weighed about 185lb soaking wet and could barely bench press 100lb.

I won’t ever forget ‘the workout’ that set my course for getting strong. On a black Friday, I went to the gym with a few friends of mine from OSU and decided to try my hand at lifting ‘real weights’ for the first time in my life; prior to that, I had only used olympic bars/plates on a handful of occasions. We did the ‘Monday workout’ which is bodybuilder slang for Chest/Arms. Following the workout, I had a difficult time moving for nearly three days.

Skinny me remembered thinking “I don’t want this to go to waste” after the days of immobility. So, I decided to go back to the gym the following week and didn’t stop going for over a decade, with my brother’s words rolling around in the back of my mind for every workout.

A few years later, I put on a noticable amount of muscle and shifted full-force into ‘beast workout mode’ at the gym; slamming pre-workouts, hitting PR’s (personal records) and sprinting toward the goal of being as big as possible.

One afternoon, I was in a study group at the library, when one of my classmates (Travis) asked me “Hey man, would you like to work out sometime?”

I judged the living hell out of him. He was skinny. I was big. However, I told him “yes” and we ended up chatting for an hour or two after the study group about life, God and our goals. He shared with me that he was an Army veteran and had suffered from a traumatic back injury during his time stationed in Afghanistan; a broken back, the result of being crushed between two heavy trucks during an operation.

Admittedly, I was unsure if he would make for a great workout partner due to his prior injury. However, we scheduled our first workout and I saw him at the gym the next day.

Boy, was I in for a surprise.

Despite his thin frame, he put in far more effort and power than guys twice his size at the gym. I thought I exerted myself until I saw the way he lifted; he had a goal, a mission and a purpose in the gym.

Time went by, and the two of us looped in my ‘little’ brother – at the time – into our workout regiments. The three of us resembled a small pride of lions whenever we walked into the gym. It wasn’t just a gym to us – it was our domain. Our sanctuary. Our battlefield.

As the years went by, we all got strong. Really strong. We pushed each other to our limits and double-handedly crushed every goal we set out to accomplish; Mark leg-pressed 1,500lb. I deadlifted 500lb. Travis benchpressed 315lb.

For us, lifting weights was more than an exercise; it channeled our drive into shared purpose, vision and destination where we all encouraged the other to go one step further. We laughed, cried, sweat and bled together. It was truly a brotherhood.

I watched as all three of us grew in our lives, in and outside of the gym. In some ways, I knew the ‘glory days’ wouldn’t last forever, but the memory and legacy of what we accomplished together during that time has remained with me for nearly two decades.

A lot of things changed we we all went our separate ways after school. Mark went into the military, Travis joined the Columbus Police Department and I headed to Los Angeles to embark on a lifelong journey of entrepreneurship and adventure.

A lot of people have moments in their lives where they look back and yearn for what they had. I’m not one of them. Instead of yearning for the days/times I had in my young adult years, I now look at the incredible life I wake up to every single day as a Dad.

When I work out now, I now see fitness as a way of staying alive, strong and healthy for Atlas and the people that depend on me; rather than to satisfy a need of ‘being big’. In life, everything changes and it’s important to roll with the transitions as they happen, because nothing ever remains the same for very long.

At 38, I see things differently now. Were I to burst back into the gym with a pre-workout and pair of lifting straps, I’d likely be setting myself up for failure and a back injury. Why? Because my body can’t handle the toil that I used to endure in my 20’s.

In similar fashion, I see things like romantic relationships differently. Were I to try and chase the butterflies that drove me in my 20’s, I’d be setting myself up for failure and heartbreak, because butterflies can’t carry the heavy weight of a lifelong relationship, any more than pre-workouts can sustain somebody in lieu of real nutrition.

There’s been a cultural shift to the consumption of things that are fast in their delivery of instant gratification – or dopamine. Just as steroids promise a quick and easy path to muscle mass (I never juiced) many pursuits now have been distilled down to instagram-esque solutions.

Somebody sent me a video the other night where an Instagremlin shared his ‘secret’ for getting $150,000 in business funding, using AI to write his business plan/model. Watching the video, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people watched the content without ever questioning the fact that his ‘funding’ was an interest-bearing bank loan, and the ‘creator’ was still on the hook for paying it back, while actually needing to work in the ‘insta-business’ he created.

“Anything easy ain’t worth a damn.”

If you want things to be great in your life, your pursuit of these goals must be accompanied by excellence and a drive to see them through to completion. Travis/Mark and I weren’t at the gym to get likes/comments/shares. We were there for ourselves, and we were there for each other.

There have always been get-rich-quick schemes, just as there have always been magic pills for weight loss. The presentation of these scams has simply changed from charlatsn’s with carpet bags, to selfie videos and AI-enhanced results that promise you can have the same results if you simply sign up for a 6-week e-course or go on a life-changing retreat that’ll set you back the cost of a car.

Greatness rarely comes with an audience. Rather, it’s a lot more like climbing up the side of a mountain; when you first start the journey, you’re surrounded by a large crowd of people at base camp, many of which never take their first climb upward. As you continue on the journey, you notice that many people stop to camp – content to stay where they landed.

As you continue climbing, something difficult happens; you discover yourself alone on the side of a mountain, hanging on for dear life. The people you started your journey with are now on different parts of the mountain and you’re left with nothing but the gear in your hand to navigate the journey.

Then, something amazing happens. As you reach closer to the summit, you find other climbers that have been on their own journey, and they’re there to share their stories with you and help you through the difficult parts of the climb while your paths briefly intersect.

Eventually, you make it to the top of the mountain and you look back at your magnificent ascent. You see all of the places where you struggled, fell and persisted. From the top, it’s all just a memory.

Was it worth it? Every single step.