480 lb Deadlift — Still chasing that elusive 500!
Spartan Beast Finisher — Because apparently regular running wasn't challenging enough.
Ragnar Trail Relay Finisher — Trails, teamwork, and very little sleep.
CrossFit Open Veteran — Years of workouts, challenges, and humbling experiences.
Ninja Warrior Program Development — Helped launch a park district program teaching gymnastics and obstacle course racing to kids and adults.
14+ Years of CrossFit — Still learning, growing, and showing up.
Coach
My CrossFit journey began in 2012 at Warehouse, and believe it or not, it started because I wanted to be on American Ninja Warrior.
Spoiler alert: That never happened. 😂
But what happened instead turned out to be pretty incredible.
My interest in obstacle course racing eventually led me to help launch a Ninja Warrior program at a local park district, teaching gymnastics and obstacle course skills to kids and adults. Even better, my own kids caught the bug, spending years training and attending national Ninja Warrior camps. Watching their journeys became even more rewarding than chasing my original goal.
And I've been fortunate to share much of this adventure with my wife, Jessica, who also served as a nutrition coach at Warehouse. She's my best friend, my muse, and my favorite workout partner. After all these years, we still love a good partner WOD together—even if we occasionally question our life choices halfway through!
I've been part of the Warehouse community for over 14 years and coaching CrossFit since 2018. Along the way, I've challenged myself through Olympic weightlifting, gymnastics, Spartan races, Ragnar Trail relays, and more CrossFit workouts than I care to remember.
As I've gotten older, my perspective on fitness has evolved. I still love lifting heavy and chasing personal records, but I've learned that progress isn't always measured by the weight on the bar or the time on the clock.
Sometimes it's simply showing up, finding joy in the process, and helping someone else discover what they're capable of.
For a long time, I measured progress by what I could accomplish. More weight on the bar, faster times, another personal record. There was always something more to chase.
And honestly, I still love those things.
But through injuries, setbacks, getting older, and simply living life, my perspective began to shift. I started asking different questions. Not just "Can I?" but "Should I?" Not just "How can I become better?" but "How can I help someone else become better?"
I've come to realize that sometimes our biggest obstacle is ourselves—our ego, our expectations, and the constant feeling that we need to prove something.
I'm still a work in progress. I'm learning to embrace change, appreciate the journey, and recognize that strength comes in many forms.
As a coach, I've learned that sometimes the greatest impact comes not from what we teach, but from how we make people feel. Listening, being present, offering encouragement, and believing in someone when they might not yet believe in themselves.
One of the most important lessons I've learned is this:
I don't have to prove my own worth to help someone else discover theirs.
And perhaps that's been my greatest growth as a coach.
I coach because I believe in people, especially those who might not yet believe in themselves.
There's something incredibly rewarding about watching someone accomplish what they once thought was impossible. Whether it's their first pull-up, a new personal record, or simply finding the courage to walk through the door, those moments matter.
I love working with athletes of all ages and abilities. Everyone brings their own story, challenges, and reasons for showing up, and I believe great coaching starts with understanding the person, not just the athlete.
My philosophy is simple: connect before you correct. Listen more than you speak, celebrate the small victories, and know when to challenge, encourage, or simply get out of the way.
I'm still learning and growing myself, but one thing has become increasingly clear: coaching isn't about me.
The best part of coaching isn't having someone believe in me as their coach. It's helping them believe in themselves.
If someone leaves my class feeling a little stronger, more confident, or more connected than when they walked in, that's a pretty good day.