Rebuilding Paul

8th July, 2023

Buckle up kids, it’s story time with Dan. This one means a lot to me. 

If I had to simplify all my inspiration and drive behind ThreePointZero into one core concept, it would be this: 

What we do within the 4 walls of this gym has the remarkable power to change lives.

Real, tangible, transformative change. 

In my role as an elite strength and conditioning coach, I see people every single day hitting PB’s, doing things during their training sessions that they’ve never done before. I still get legitimately buzzed about one of my athletes hitting a new weight with a dumbbell press or an extra 2.5kg on their deadlift max. But some changes are bigger and more important than that. Sometimes the things we do in the gym are about more than just how much you can squat or how many punches and kicks you can throw before you get tired. For some people, what we do in the gym is about rediscovering lost freedoms. Rebuilding freedom of movement, regaining lost confidence, and using that confidence to reclaim your self belief so you can live a healthier, happier, unencumbered life. 

Above is probably one of the best photos I’ve ever been sent. In it is one of my dearest friends, Mark, and he’s standing next to his dad, Paul, at the MCG.

Paul has been through some shit. Paul is in his mid 60’s now, but has spent the better part of the last 30 years in chronic pain, decimated by degenerative arthritis throughout his body. Over the course of 6 months in 2019, Paul underwent 2 hip replacement surgeries to remove and replace hip joints that were more akin to swiss cheese than a functional mechanical body part. Of course they couldn’t progress while his knee was such a problem, so they replaced that as well. Speaking from personal experience, (2 new hips within 15 weeks) individually these are big surgeries that require some serious recovery. The fact he underwent 3 of these within a 6 month period really demonstrates how dire his situation was. Having myself spent years in very similar chronic pain, I can honestly say that it is absolutely devastating mentally. Every little movement, things that most people find simple and take for granted, hurts. Sitting down hurts. Getting back up hurts. Walking hurts. Standing still hurts. Stairs? Fuck that. Left your phone in the other room? There it stays, because the 10 meter journey to retrieve it requires more pain tolerance and willpower than I have left at the end of a work day. Pain wears you down. 30 years of pain like that leaves you as a shell of your former self. In the entire time my buddy Mark has been alive, he’s never seen his dad sit on a low couch, let alone play on the floor as children. As a father, things like this really hit me, because when my son was small, playing on the floor with him was too difficult for me too. It just hurt too much. I get it. 

I was chatting with Mark not long after Paul had his surgeries. Pain wise, things had improved, but after going through the rehab process with the hospital physios, Paul really wasn’t moving well. Replacing the joints is all well and good, but it doesn’t undo 30 years of poor function, and your body is constantly guarding itself. Unfortunately, the advice you get from the hospital physios seems designed only to get you out of hospital to unburden the system, rather than teach you how to get your life back to normal. So Paul was a bit stuck, not making progress, unable to move freely, and constantly in fear of fracture or dislocation should something go wrong. No one had explained the long term outlooks or expectations post surgery, they simply said, ‘Do the exercises on this sheet of paper, and don’t cross your legs or get out of the car too fast because you’ll likely dislocate your new hip. Bye!’ I wish I was joking, but having been there myself, it really demonstrates the pitfalls of a healthcare system designed by accountants rather than people who know or care about patient outcomes. For someone who’s spent their life in constant pain, and without the knowledge or experience to know that more is possible, this is terrifying. The thought of going back to chronic pain was enough for Paul to resign himself to just living out his life as is, just grateful to have a little relief. 

Mark said to me, “Bro, I really just want to be able to go to the footy with my dad, but the stairs and the seats at the MCG, ya know…?” A simple statement, but it meant so much more than that. It encompassed how much he wanted his dad to just feel better. The tone in his voice told me of how the lifetime of physical ailments had put so much burden on the family unit, robbing them of so many experiences together for so long.

Speaking to Paul, I told him what I believed was possible. Given enough time, patience, hard work and dedication,  I genuinely believe in the human body’s ability to restore itself. We just needed to take it super slow, and rebuild from the ground up. Having known each other for quite some time, Paul knew I was serious, and he cautiously agreed to let me help.

Slow is the key word. I’ve seen all sorts of shapes, sizes, and conditions over the years, but Paul started in probably the most dysfunctional physical condition I’ve ever taken on. Aside from the hip and knee stuff, his spine is arthritic from the neck down, and some other health challenges gave me plenty of interesting problem solving to do. When I tell you the guy hadn’t moved properly in over 30 years, I mean it, and he looked it. He would make an old rusty gate look like a finely tuned machine in comparison.

So we set to work. What seemed like an insurmountable task was broken up into the smallest bite-sized pieces. We worked on stability, teaching the body to correctly support, stabilize and use these new joints, pain free. We broke down every day tasks (walking, up/down stairs, in/out of the car, on/off chairs) into their component movements, and as strength and flexibility progressed we were able to slowly piece them together again to make full, functional movements. Rebuilding so many years of bad patterning is a slow and laborious task, but week by week we made steady progress, and as we passed each little milestone I could slowly see the confidence returning. The apprehension was still there, I know when I give Paul a new exercise that's a little intimidating he suddenly becomes more talkative than normal so requires a little nudge along... Having now experienced my own rehabilitation from these types of surgeries, I can attest to the nervousness that comes with trying to break through unfamiliar ground. We always soldiered on. Even scaring Paul's wife when she walked in one day to find him on the floor for the first time in a long time. She panicked initially, but he hadn’t fallen, and wasn’t hurt, he had gotten down there VOLUNTARILY to do the tasks I’d assigned. Just that little scenario on its own speaks volumes. 

We are not done yet, not even close, but to say we have changed several lives here is not an exaggeration. I have watched this man push himself beyond limits he never thought would be achievable, he is looking happier and more confident with every passing week.  Paul and his wife Karen now spend their weekends going to the theater or shopping or pretty much anything they want because he is no longer nervous about walking or sitting. He speaks with pride about how he leaves everyone else behind with his walking speed now. One of his biggest goals was to be able to walk his daughter down the aisle at her wedding. He pushed so hard so he could be there with her, and he did, with style and grace, the proudest chaperone you could ever lay eyes on. Nothing compares to moments like that!

He has a new granddaughter who he’s so excited to be an ACTIVE grandfather with. He’s lost about 25kg on top of that, so not only does he feel awesome but he looks it too, and I’ve seen the smile return to his face.

I’m not ashamed to admit that it made me emotional when I saw that my best mate got to once again go to the footy with his dad. Mission accomplished.

I normally consider myself reasonably articulate, so I’ve given it my best crack, but I really hope I’ve done some justice to Paul’s story. Over the last couple of years I’ve watched this man struggle, physically and mentally to overcome so many challenges. I’ve set him tasks and goals that he thought were unattainable, but he trusted me and we worked together relentlessly to achieve them. I inspired him to push harder than he thought he was capable of, and when I had my surgeries last year he inspired me to do the same. It was important to me that not only did I tell him what was possible, but SHOWED him with my own attitude and behavior and RESULTS!

Changing lives. Real, tangible, transformative change.

Whether you believe you can do it, or you believe you will never do it, you’re right. 

I’ll see you in the gym Paul, we still have work to do!

Yours in strength, 

Dan America