Weight Cycling, Steroids Play 'Villain' for Athletes

The dream of wearing a Gold Medal is one of the most prestige and hardest dreams to accomplish, but how could anybody deal with the fact of being so close, yet not even being able to compete?

Gary Russell Jr. was one night away from the opportunity to box in the first round of the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, China. Hours before weigh-ins, numerous reports hit that Russell had passed out in his dorm room, lying unconscious on the floor. He was trying to make the weight of 119 pounds. His dream ended before he even had the opportunity to try.

Weight cycling, or yo-yo dieting, has been a long-term issue that many athletes have been dealing with since they were young. In many sports, trainers and coaches ask their athletes to make a certain weight for an advantage in competition. Lately, affects of this are finally being realized.

The dieter may experience loss of both muscle and body fat during this process. The worst part comes after however, as the person is then likely to experience their body gain rapid weight of fat.

Local boxing trainer Galen Brown sees this as a problem, yet it remains the only option for athletes at his gym to try.

"If you don’t do it, you will be in the ring with somebody who out-weighs you by 20 pounds at least," Brown said. "I mean, then you’re talking about a whole (different) situation."

Brown, 30, thinks that the only solution is to try and keep the weight down as the part that is very serious is gaining the weight back so fast. One of his fighters, Steven Johnson, wrestles to get his weight down to 118 pounds as he walks weights around 130.

"Yes, I think it’s a big deal," Johnson said. "The difference between what I do and other fighters are that I just cut out bad food all together and go from there. I get down to 118 easily without starving myself like I did when I was younger."

Johnson, 27, is experienced as he has been fighting since he was 15 years old. He says that weight cycling is one of the worst things an athlete can do to their bodies. Brown agrees.

"I used to do it myself, and look, it doesn’t help," he said. "I heard from every five pounds you lose, you gain one back. I’ve seen fighters lose 40 to 50 pounds."

Another thing people have to take into consideration is the time it takes to drop such a drastic weight. Brown says fighters tend to lose the weight about three weeks before they fight. Some do it even faster. Once, back when he was a fighter, he dropped 20 pounds two days before he fought and the day of the fight he needed intravenous therapy (an I.V.) to hydrate.

"It’s a bad deal, but it’s how I made money," said Brown.

Boxing is not the only sport that puts athletes through this kind of dieting. Even prep sports must take this into consideration. Courtney Caraway, who graduated from Central High School in St. Joseph, Mo, says back when he was in school he would lose 10 pounds the night before weigh-ins by simply going down to the school’s boiler room.

"(We) would jump rope for at least an hour," Caraway said. "But you gotta know, we were doing this without coach knowing." Caraway said the coach did not approve of this, and if he found out, he and whoever was caught would have not been able to wrestle.

So why do athletes feel the need to make a certain weight?

It is a way to get a scholarship and hope to go professional, Caraway says.

"A football player that is bigger, coaches like," Caraway said. "Same thing with a wrestler; if he can make a certain weight and he is good, colleges will want him."

Caraway not only points out a bad situation with weight loss, but athletes must also get bigger in sports which could cause health issues. Many athletes get bigger by taking steroids which, even though illegal, athletes can get very easily.

Former football player Lyle Alzado died at the young age of 43 from brain cancer. He says steroids caused his illness when he talked about it in an issue of Sports Illustrated.

"I started taking anabolic steroids in 1969 and never stopped," Alzado said before his death. "It was addicting, mentally addicting. Now I'm sick, and I'm scared. Ninety percent of the athletes I know are on the stuff."

Alzado said he took steroids so he could play better and stay on the football team. But towards the end of his life, he started to become crazy.

"I became very violent on the field and off it," Alzado said. "I did things only crazy people do." Alzado pointed out to one night when somebody hit his car, he was so crazy he just beat the guy up. Alzado played 15 seasons in the NFL for three teams, but now he is dead.

Steroids, in this case and many others, are not only to play better but to make a certain weight. Alzado said in the interview he wasn’t born to be 300 pounds, but he had to be that weight to play better.

Football players and wrestlers, among other sports, are asking athletes to get bigger, stronger and better so they can excel. Although nobody has been able to really justify steroids playing into an athlete’s death years later, many believe it is the only reasoning behind deaths of heart failure so young.

Eddie Guerreo, former WWE Champion in 2004, died just one year later after becoming World Champion. Found unconscious in his hotel room, Guerrero is just one of many that have died from heart failure.

Without his Gold Medal, Gary Russell still remains a top young prospect in the professional ranks. Since fainting played the role of the villain back in 2008, he now boxes between the weight of 126 and 130. With a professional record of 14-0 with 9 KO’s, he is ranked in the top 100 in the World according to boxrec.com rankings.

But with every Gary Russell there is in the World, there is another Lyle Alzado, another Eddie Guerreo. Even though some athletes are able to get to a weight easier than others, the dieting and stress it puts on athletes cause too many problems. With coaches and trainers being fine with this, maybe there just isn’t a way to stop it.

A Day in the Dungeon

The brick walls do not let light escape. The ceiling fans barely keep air circulating. The ground is durable, yet in the least of ways. The corrosion on the pipes could lead one to think they do not work; no windows, no stairs, a mystery of what is inside; cracks all around desperately in need of filling. All of this, and still 20 somewhat people pile in for two hours or more throughout the night to gear up for what's ahead of them.

Weeks before fight time, people walk into the gym to get the useful material they need in order to improve. Whether that is proper training or just to use the equipment, it's up to the person. The life of a boxer far exceeds the limitations they are dealt. They can be the greatest fighter in the world or just starting out, no matter what, the gym they are at is where it starts and where it ends.

This gym in particular, not too many champions made here. Not too many names will be in the paper for wins or faces on television. They are who they are and they are fine with that. They are raw; they are hungry, but not the most talented bunch of boxers. Nothing that could lead anybody to think this is the famous Kronk Gym in Detroit or Eastside Boxing in Cincinnati. The only stories that are told are between the rounds when the boxers will find themselves chatting from time to time. No pictures on the wall, posters or frames of work throughout the years. They leave that at home, or they possibly don't have any.

Outside has limited parking as many carpool to get there. The parking lot is made up of rocks and pebbles, not enough money to pave it. Some park on grass or on the side street if there is room. The gym expands a great amount, both outside and inside.

Outside, there are boxers running miles down the streets. Inside it is much larger than it appears to be. Six boxing bags are put up in one corner. A few speed bags set up across from that. The ring is one side of the building with mirrors fastened to the walls for the boxers that are shadow boxing. Four or five trainers come in every night to help the boxers out, working pad work with them. For hours, this is home to them.

"Let’s stretch now," the trainer barks. So they stretch. They listen to their trainer. Later on, it gets more intense.

"One-two, one-two," he orders to one young boxer. The fighter is already on his third round of mitt work but that is the very least expected of him. This is just a warm up; tired and sweating profusely he does as he is told. He moves on to the bags and will work there for three rounds before stepping out into the bitter cold. He is about to run.

Perhaps the cold is a metaphor for these boxers, because they are bitter and this is a bitter sport. The more they run the more they are hurting. They want to quit, but quitting is not in their nature. They were born this way or something changed them to make them believe they are superior to everybody else. They are a cocky bunch as they talk each other up. But if one falls, they all feel the same way.

One boxer runs over to the stereo. She yells "this is my song!" She turns it up. There will be blasting music for the next several hours now. This seems to be as loud as a football stadium or if you were standing under an airplane landing. How can one think in this place? If the music isn’t distracting them, nothing will. In fact, this tends to pump the boxers up as they are working harder now. This isn’t the kind of music you will hear on the radio; no Lady Gaga, Black Eyed Peas or Justin Bieber here. This is old school rap, 2pac, DMX and NWA. The lyrics are rough and off beat. The harder the lyrics the harder they train.

No one would think a fighter would ever love a place so dark, so cold and so lonely. The exercises, the hard work that come with this sport, that is pure acceptance to love. They wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t. The only thing that could compare to the work they put in would be a person that works at a steel mill or a stock yard; that would be the equivalent to this gym.

Standing in front of the boxers, it’s like they accidentally stumbled upon this place. Why would anybody put themselves in a situation like this? It’s almost like they were born into this. The smell is awful, yet they are here every week day, sometimes on the weekends. It that makes sense, you then might ask: Why do they stay? What do they love about this old building?

The work is what they love best. The fact that only a handful of people can experience this is astonishing. The old cesspool of a place is great for one that is putting their body through the pain and suffering they get out of this place, in this sport.

The young boxer comes back from running after probably 30 minutes. He takes a sip of water. The bell rings and he grabs a jump rope. He is still training.

‘Heart Man’ Sharing Experience Through Fitness and Sports

If being a devoted, lifetime Dallas Cowboy and Kansas Jayhawk fan isn't enough work, how about adding a part time sports reporter and full time fitness trainer to your resume?

Travis Hartman, 28, was raised in Osborne, Mo and grew up with two brothers around the same age as him. Fights occurred regularly at the Hartman household; still, growing up, Hartman couldn't have imagined his life was going to turn out the way it did.

"Fighting on HBO pay-per-view in front of people like Michael Jordan and so many other super stars; NBA all stars and legends, to NFL players, actors, actresses, R&B singers, comedians; that was my favorite boxing memory," Hartman said.

Hartman is a former professional and amateur boxer that now runs his own boxing and fitness gym on 24th and Union behind the soccer fields at Bode Middle School. Being a former boxer, there is very little he doesn't know about fitness.

"If everybody in the world worked out and cared about their bodies, this would be a better place," Hartman said. "Your body is your temple and you have to take care of it."

Hartman learned the fundamentals of being healthy as a young kid. He started boxing at the age of eight, and while other kids his age were out playing games, he was in the gym working out. While other kids were eating what they wanted to, he had to watch his weight, gaining every competitive advantage possible for when he entered the ring.

"It was hard losing weight, but I had to do it," Hartman said. "It is something that at the time felt so pointless, but looking back, I have no complaints."

Now, Hartman teaches the same discipline to his young boxers that come to Team Hartman Gym, a given 15 a night; women, men, young and old.

"It feels great to know I am helping someone become a healthier person," Hartman said. "I also love teaching kids the discipline of what boxing has to offer. It keeps them out of trouble and prepares them for life. If they can box then there is no challenge in life that they can't conquer or have confidence in approaching."

Hartman is one of the most accomplished amateur boxers in Northwest Missouri. He won the National Silver Gloves Tournament two times. He also went to major tournaments such as the National Golden Gloves and the Junior Olympics; though Hartman's reign in the amateurs fell short of the Olympics, losing in the quarterfinals at the Western Trials in 2004. After that, he knew it was time to turn pro.
"It was always something I wanted to do," Hartman said. "After the trials, I knew it was time."

And so he started his professional career. After six fights, still undefeated, Hartman decided to take a big money fight against the son of boxing hall-of-famer Julio Cesar Chavez. After losing the fight by TKO in round three, Hartman decided to take the route of a journeyman boxer, and take money fights instead of trying to build up his own record.

Now, 28 years old and retired due to a neck injury, Hartman can look back at his career and teach others the do's and don'ts of life. Hartman says there is no other better way to do that than to write about it.

"I like giving people a look from a guy who has been there, done that, so-to-speak," Hartman said. "I think most writers have never competed at a higher level and are strictly writing from the outside, whereas a former athlete can bring you the inside-out if done correctly."

Hartman is a part time sports reporter at the Saint Joseph News-Press, reporting on high school prep sports and boxing events. He runs his gym the nights he is not at work with help from his dad and younger brother. He is a busy man, as he also has his own radio gig on "The Ringside Boxing Show" every Sunday at 4 p.m. There isn't much time for him to rest, but he prefers it that way.

"I love everything about my life; I love my job, my gym, I wouldn't change a thing."

Last Saturday, Hartman teamed up with a group of six from the News-Press and Saint Joe Now Channel 3 and took on their rival competitors, KQ2, at their annual basketball game at Missouri Western. The News-Press won by 20, with Hartman scoring double digits in route to claiming the victory. It's events like these that Hartman lives for everyday.

"It was fun," Hartman said. "I had a blast playing and even more fun winning."

After the game, Hartman gets cleaned up, congratulates the competitors before getting on his cell phone. He is calling work to tell them he is going to be a few minutes late because the game lasted a little longer than expected. It's as if Hartman does not have enough time in the day to accomplish everything he wants.

Still, Sunday morning he will wake up extra early after a long, hard night of work that last until midnight, because the KU game is going to be on; and they are playing Missouri.

"Hopefully (the game) won't go into overtime," Hartman said. "I got to go on air at four."