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  • Writer's pictureRandal Williams

Hi. My Name is Randy.




For three decades, alcohol was my constant companion.


It began as a casual relationship but tightened its grip over time, holding me hostage. I lost time, relationships, and worthiness. The last decade was the most intense: a relentless cycle of drinking that spanned every waking hour. Morning to night, every hour in between, alcohol was my shadow.


By the age of 50, I had surrendered. My body bore the brunt of this surrender. Once sharp and agile, my brain felt like it was wading through a thick fog. My muscles, which once held the promise of strength, began to wither away. The physical signs were undeniable: elevated liver enzymes and alarming ammonia levels. The audio hallucinations, the visual hallucinations, and the crawling to the bathroom at night because my equilibrium was off, were all symptoms of deterioration of the brain. My body was sounding the alarm, but I was in too deep.


I was running full speed to the grave. 


The wake-up calls were loud and clear. Three medically monitored detoxes. Three in-patient facilities. All in three years. Each experience was a jarring reminder of the life I was leading. The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, preaching the virtues of health and wellness to my clients while secretly nursing a hangover or trying to recall the details of the previous day's training session.


But life has a way of offering redemption.


After my third stint in rehab, I used strength training as one of the sobriety spokes in the wheel of my recovery. The transformation was almost immediate. With each lift, each squat, each press, I felt the fog in my mind lifting. My body responded with an enthusiasm I had forgotten it possessed. The rush of endorphins, the blood pumping through my veins, and the sheer joy of pushing past thresholds were exhilarating. The point of pain that takes the mental fortitude to dig deep to get what I want. 

My posture changed. I stood taller, shoulders back, chin up. My core and lower back, which had borne the weight of my emotional and physical baggage, now provided stability. My glutes, once neglected, felt strong. My arms, a testament to the hours I put in at the gym, began to fill out my shirts. People took notice. Compliments flowed, but more than the external validation, it was the internal transformation that was profound.


Dietary changes followed. Fried foods and sugars, staples in my post-alcohol phase, were shown the door. It was a challenge, especially given the body's natural inclination to replace the sugar from alcohol with sweets. But I persevered.

My journey, like many others, has been long and arduous. But here I stand, a testament to the transformative power and resilience of resistance training. My purpose is clear: to guide others on their journey, help them discover the mind-body connection, and be a beacon of hope.


Ultimately, it's not about the battles we lose but the wars we win. And I'm here, ready to help you win yours. Get some.


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