Growing up, I lived in the gym before I even knew that was a thing. Football, wrestling, and martial arts — I earned my second-degree black belt — were just how I moved through the world. Later I got into bodybuilding and even competed in CrossFit. Physical strength wasn't a phase for me. It was identity.

Then college happened. A heartbreak knocked me sideways, and I didn't just stumble — I lost myself completely. I started drinking to keep up with everyone else, to numb out, to feel like I belonged somewhere. I almost flunked out. I was drained, depressed, and honestly just didn't care anymore — not about school, not about my body, not about much of anything. I tried to fix it the way a lot of us do: by partying harder, by pretending I was fine, by hoping it would just pass on its own. It didn't. Fitting in with the noise around me only pulled me further from myself.

What actually turned it around wasn't a quick fix — it was finding God and finding my way back to fitness, on purpose this time. Not for a trophy or a competition, but because I wanted control of my life back. That combination gave me structure when I had none, and slowly, I started becoming someone I recognized again.

These days my life looks nothing like those darkest semesters. I married my best friend, Tasha Ulrich, in 2022, and we're raising two kids together. I coach full-time now, and I built RUF because I needed something like it back then and it didn't exist — a place with real support, real education, and real accountability to help people through the hard stretches, not just the highlight reels.

I don't coach because I've got it all figured out. I coach because I know what it's like to be in the dark and want someone to walk through it with you. If you're in a season where you feel like you've lost yourself — or you just want to build a stronger, healthier life without doing it alone — that's who I'm here for. It's not about being perfect. It's about doing this together.