I’ve always been into the gym, always active, but it was during Covid that I decided to take my fitness to the next level. That’s when I discovered the world of Natural Bodybuilding—where athletes are tested for banned substances by WADA (World Anti-Doping Agency). I remember hearing someone say that becoming a Pro Bodybuilder at the age of 50, especially for someone just starting out, was nearly impossible. I took that as fuel. I love a challenge, and this was one I wasn’t going to back down from.
At 49, I entered my first competition. Like many first-timers, I wasn’t happy with how I placed. I think most of us feel like we deserve a better result, especially that first competition (unless we win). And for many, that’s where it ends. They check off the bodybuilding competition from their bucket list, hang up the posing trunks, and move on. I have respect for that decision. But for me, something shifted. I missed it immediately after the competition ended. I needed that experience back in my life, so I doubled down and entered one of the most prestigious natural bodybuilding shows in the country—Mr. America.
Eighteen weeks of hard training later, I brought a completely different physique to the stage. I finished second in the Amateur Master’s Bodybuilding Class. That’s when I got hooked. I signed up for the next year’s Mr. America competition right away. 2022 came around, and I was hitting personal bests in the gym—benching 365 pounds, adding noticeable muscle, and feeling strong. But just as I was gearing up for competition prep, life threw me a curveball. I suffered a Lisfranc injury and fractured my foot during an alumni soccer game. The doctor told me I’d need surgery and that competing that October was out of the question.
I was crushed. But something inside me refused to accept that prognosis. I told the doctor I’d hold off on deciding until the next checkup, and in the meantime, I worked around my injury, ensuring plenty of blood flow to the area. When I returned a week later, the doctor was dumbfounded—the torn ligaments were healing. His only explanation was that my body, as a trained natural athlete, was recovering faster than expected. He even admitted that had I not been a bodybuilder, surgery would have been inevitable.
Despite his advice to sit out the season, I wasn’t done. I doubled down again, not only refusing to skip Mr. America but also adding another competition to my schedule—the 2022 ANBF King’s Cup, which came even earlier. That competition was a humbling experience. I brought the worst physique of my bodybuilding history to the stage that day, and the results showed it. But it was a pivotal moment for me. I realized something crucial: I couldn’t do it alone. I had an amazing family and support system, but I needed more. I needed guidance, coaching, and mentorship.
That was my first time competing in the ANBF federation, and while I wasn’t conditioned enough, I met incredible athletes who offered advice and support. I took their feedback to heart and, two weeks later, brought a far more competitive physique to the Mr. America stage. A month after that, I was just shy of earning my Pro card. I knew I was onto something, but I also knew I needed help.
That’s when I reached out to two athletes I admired from the 2022 King’s Cup—Greg Robinson and Joe LaCerra. They had placed 1st and 2nd that day, and both were coaches. I couldn’t decide between the two, so I asked if they’d collaborate and co-coach me. To my surprise, they agreed, and I followed every piece of advice they gave without question. The result? In September of the following year, “we” earned that Pro Card. I say “we” because it truly does take a team. Sure, I put in the work, but I needed my supportive wife, my kids, my coaches, and the advice of fellow athletes to get there.
Since then, I’ve competed as a Pro Bodybuilder on the Mr. America stage in 2023 and 2024. I’ve held my own, winning classes in different natural bodybuilding federations. What’s even more exciting is that this part of my fitness journey only began four years ago. I’ve improved exponentially in that time, and I’m eager to see what I can achieve in my 60s. Maybe someone will tell me it’s impossible again—I almost hope they do. Because I’ll be ready with an answer, just like I was when I started this journey.
