As Ron celebrates his 60th birthday, he’s reflecting on more than just fitness milestones. In this deeply personal post, he shares the life experiences that shaped him, from trauma and loss to healing, strength, and connection, and how finding Industrial Athletics became part of that transformation. His story is a powerful reminder that fitness can be about so much more than workouts; it can also be about finding community, resilience, and a true sense of belonging.
The Crossroads of Trauma and Disconnection
I know that writing a post for a CrossFit gym should focus on fitness, nutrition, and goals. However, I wanted to share something deeper and more vulnerable—how finding CrossFit has aligned with what has become my life’s purpose: transforming meaningful connections into places of belonging.
CONNECTION IS MY JAM
When people talk about connection, their stories often begin with disconnection. For me, understanding why connection matters so deeply meant first understanding how disconnection shaped my journey. My disconnection was rooted in trauma—experiences that taught me early on that safety and belonging were fragile.
The trauma I’ve experienced and now manage came from three profound losses:
- Relinquishment at birth and subsequent adoption
- Childhood sexual abuse
- The loss of many friends during the AIDS crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s
Relinquishment
When most babies are born, their first experience is skin-to-skin connection with their mother—instant bonding and safety. That wasn’t my story. I was born and handed to a nurse, never to see, touch, or hear from my birth mother again. Three days later, I was handed to strangers.
My birth was a transaction—one meant to bring joy to a family grieving infertility and to give me a “better life”. But the cost of that better life was profound: disconnection from my natural origins and sealed records that would remain closed forever. For me, this disconnection has been deeply challenging to carry.
As an infant, I had no choice in this. Yes, I had a loving childhood and wonderful adoptive parents, but no matter how inclusive my family was, I never quite felt connected to them. Being relinquished left me living in constant fear that anyone or anything could change or disappear without warning. Too young to understand this consciously, I adapted by changing myself—by prioritizing others’ comfort over my own needs. Choosing myself never felt like an option.
This vulnerability made me an easy target for what would become my second profound trauma.
Childhood Sexual Abuse
There’s a chapter of my life I’ve struggled to acknowledge, but in the spirit of understanding how trauma creates disconnection, I’m sharing it now.
I won’t discuss the details, but this abuse created a new kind of disconnection—from my own body. I hated being touched for years. Looking back, this is when I turned to food as a coping mechanism, this gradually led to weight struggles into adulthood. On top of this, I was wrestling with my own sexual orientation, something that weighed heavily on me as a pre-teen and teenager. I suffered in silence for many years before eventually finding support and a path forward.
Loss From the AIDS Crisis
As I began to reclaim my life and agency, I moved from Southern California to San Francisco. For the first time, I was living authentically and building genuine friendships and communities. But this was the early 1990s—the height of the AIDS crisis—and a new battle with disconnection was unfolding.
The communities I was building were devastated by this disease. That frightened adoptee inside me—the one who learned that people could be taken away—was being reaffirmed in the most painful way. But those of us who remained found strength in each other. We fought through protests. We served through fundraising and caregiving. New communities formed from shared grief and love. These experiences shaped how I would approach life and connection moving forward.
Why This Matters: Mental Fitness
You might wonder what this has to do with fitness. Everything—because this is about mental fitness. Consider these facts relating to my experiences:
- Adoptees are 4 times more likely to attempt suicide than non-adopted children
- 53.3% of male survivors of childhood sexual abuse experience suicidal ideation
Surviving the AIDS crisis, I felt a deep responsibility to live fully. I began searching for my birth family—seeking the connections that would help me understand myself. In 2014, I found them. Remarkably, my birth mother had remained in her hometown of Meadville, Pennsylvania—the same region where I’d eventually settled after moving from California. Connection, it seemed, had its own geography. I believe that we all do have a connection to our land.
Cue Industrial Athletics
During COVID, I walked off over 70 pounds. In May 2021, at 55 years old, I decided I needed to build strength. I’d heard of CrossFit but assumed it was for younger, elite athletes. Matt convinced me otherwise. Despite friends warning me that CrossFit was dangerous and I’d get injured, I joined anyway. I’m happy to say they were wrong. The only injuries I’ve sustain in the past five years is from an automobile accident.
By the time you read this, I’ll have celebrated my 60th birthday. I’m still at IA doing my CrossFit thing. Thriving! But more importantly, I’m here because I’ve found a sense of belonging in a community I never imagined experiencing at this stage of my life. I feel physically and mentally healthier than ever before.
When I walk into the gym, I’m surrounded by people who make me feel joyful, even at 6:00am. In those moments, I feel like I’m in my 30s, not 60—though the workout quickly reminds me of reality. Life has a funny way of doing that.
A Love Letter
This post is ultimately a love letter to myself—for facing the challenges life has placed before me. I’m living proof that connection doesn’t just help us survive; it helps us thrive.
And it’s also a love letter to all of you who have created a place of belonging and meaningful connection for me. You are a part of my transformation, and, in doing so, have become an incredible community.
Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for letting me belong.
