Member of the Month October 2013: Tommy Bauer

“Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The above quote is famous among writers, artists, and architects. It’s a gentle reminder that often more isn’t necessarily better. There’s a beauty in simplicity. And in today’s world, we all know simplicity is a rare commodity.

Growing up we had a coat rack located between our backdoor and our basement steps. Every year, much like a freshly planted tree, it would seem to grow bigger and bigger until it was almost impossible to find something underneath the first layer. New winter coats would be hung on top of older winter coats. Spring jackets would hang all year long. Even baseball and softball gloves would strategically be placed on its hangers. Eventually disaster would strike. We’d hang so many items on it that it wouldn’t be able to hold the load anymore, and it would topple over. Clothes would fly everywhere, and the thud could be heard throughout the house. On particularly disastrous occasions, it would topple over down the basement steps creating a landslide of jackets, scarves, and hats.  Needless to say, mom was never pleased with our apparent lack of architectural knowledge.

We’re a lot like the coat rack. Our lives are complex. Unlike Antoine, we don’t take things away. We keep adding them. A cell phone bill here. A car payment there. A kid on a new soccer traveling team here. A sick elderly parent there. All of these “layers” continue to build, weighing us down, until we eventually break. And when we break, those that don’t know us well judge.  They say we’re weak. We’re troubled. We’re a bad apple. They look at the layers and automatically make incorrect assumptions.

Our October Member of the Month is a bad apple. His reputation casts a dark cloud that can be seen miles before he arrives. I still remember the first time I had the pleasure of meeting him. I was a freshmen at GHS. He was a junior. As I was walking down the hall after lunch, a huge commotion broke out. Tommy was at it again. He had pinned a friend of mine up against the lockers by his throat. The reason – my friend was razzing him about his flowing golden locks of hair. That was Tommy.

After he graduated, I really didn’t have much contact with him. I’d read about him in the paper on occasion. The story was almost always the same. It started with alcohol and ended with a few flying fists. He was the prototypical barroom brawler. There wasn’t a man in Macoupin county he was afraid of. That was Tommy.

And then we opened Ageless. Tommy, an avid weightlifter since high school, joined when we built the new 24 hour location. It was the first time I had seen him since high school. It had been over 10 years . Not surprisingly his appearance fit his reputation exactly. A movie director could have not cast a more appropriate actor. He was a brute of a man with tattoos down his huge arms, a shaved head, and a love for black tank tops.  He still  looked like he was a stick of dynamite waiting to explode. I was just praying Ageless would not be collateral damage.  A few months into his membership, he got into a little trouble again. This time it was more serious than an argument at the bar. Not long after that, still not out of trouble from the previous incident, he got into a fight and broke his jaw.  That was Tommy.

When he asked if he could help with our Spartan training class, my immediate reaction was no. I assumed someone with a reputation like his would ruin our image. Barroom fights, broken jaws, and slamming kids up against lockers were not things Ageless represented.  He’d literally scare away our members. All I could picture was Tommy headbutting our Spartans in between sets of deadlifts. Imagine the carnage.

But then something changed. I started talking to him.  Each day we’d see each other in the gym and talk a little more. He admitted he deserved the reputation he had. He knew he made mistakes. In fact, he knew he made a lot of mistakes. He spoke openly about all of them, answering any questions I had.  He also admitted he was trying to change.

I believed him. I don’t exactly remember what conversation it was, but all of a sudden the layers started coming off, and I saw the perfection in Tommy. He really was trying to change. The problem is that change is hard. It doesn’t work like a light switch. It’s an ongoing process. It has setbacks. It has relapses. It’s a war that’s never really won. From afar, it may look like he hadn’t really changed, but if you got close enough to him, you realized he had.

I saw it firsthand. It was in his eyes. It was in his words. Most importantly, it was in his actions. I saw him interact with our Jr. Spartans. He motivated them. He spoke about discipline, hard work, and staying out of trouble. Anytime he opened his mouth, over 20 sets of little eyes were on him, mouths completely closed. They respected him because they saw “it” too.  I saw him help my grandma on countless occasions, no matter if he was in the middle of his lifting session or not. It was in those instances that the kindness and sweetness, hidden by all of his layers, suddenly appeared.  To her, he is now known as “My Tommy.” I saw him show up early and stay late to help us with events at the gym. I saw him lift with Derek Tiburzi because Tommy saw a little of himself in Derek – a kid that just loved to lift heavy things. I read the thank you message he sent me after our Jr. Spartan class had ended. He was so happy to be a part of something so positive. He loved being a role model for young boys and couldn’t wait for the next session. That’s Tommy.

People aren’t inherently bad. Unfortunately, they have inherently bad things happen to them, and they find alternative ways to cope with those bad things. At his core, Tommy is just gentle giant with a lot of energy. His dad passed away when he was 17. A man that taught him how to ride a bike, throw a baseball, and drive a car was suddenly gone.  He was his hero. He was his role model. Can you imagine what Tommy felt, losing such a figure at such an impressionable age? I can’t. How do you cope with something like that? Maybe a young male with a little too much energy and testosterone starts adding a few layers by fighting and causing a little trouble?   Here was a 17 year-old kid with an older sister, a younger sister, and 2 younger brothers that became the man of the house in a split second. I’m 31 years-old and struggle with my role as head of the house. Imagine what those kind of responsibilities could do to a teenager.

Let us not fool you. At Ageless, fitness is now what we’re after. Fitness is simply a means to an end, not THE end. Like our mission statement clearly states, we’re in the business of changing lives. Looking good from the outside is start. Feeling good from inside is the end.

From our mission statement:

“We must challenge our members constantly so small successes eventually evolve into big successes. What they accomplish in the gym should inspire them to accomplish much, much more outside of the gym.”

Tommy taught me a lesson I should have learned in the first grade – never judge a book by its cover.  He made me eat my words. He’s exactly what Ageless represents – a constant, never-ending struggle to become a better person. We all have our layers. We all sin. We all relapse. Even the purest angel is tempted by the devil. However, in the end, we all fight the same fight.. Chasing perfection by trying to remove the layers that weigh us down. Here’s to Tommy. Keep fighting big fella!