BASED ON A TRUE STORY:
In 1989, Tommy Clifford passed away at the age of 20, and his former co-worker, Rick Ciccone, believed it was a suicide. Two years earlier, Tommy, a summer hire at a land surveying company, experienced the tragic death of his...
"Ten seconds!" Rick Ciccone yelled, looking at his stopwatch. Eric, a 22 year-old lacrosse player at Stockton University, pumped furiously on the heavy ropes. Sweat poured down his face. His Rage Fitness tank top was drenched. He puffed heavily. Eric's parents hired Rick two years ago to be their son's off season trainer.
Rick stuck to his five year plan, sort of. He opened his gym, Rage Fitness, a personal training studio, in 1993.
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The decision wasn't as easy as he thought. International Championship Wrestling offered him a 3 year contract extension. Business was booming. The offer was staggering. They wanted to make him their world champion. He loved wrestling but he was never in it for that. He treated it like a business. Get in. Make money. Get out. The offer was too good, so he compromised. He signed for one more year. His five year plan became six. He made a mini-fortune, but the decision was costly.
Rick was now 57, grayer and 25 pounds below his wrestling weight, but still in fantastic shape. He was firmly established in the community. He sponsored Little League teams, placed ads in high school sports programs, hosted blood drives. Rage Fitness was small but it was well equipped. It had everything you'd need to get in shape. The walls were decorated to inspire: Wrestling photos of himself and his bodybuilding heroes: Franco Columbu, Mike Mentzer, Lee Labrada, Steve Reeves.
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Top: (L) Lee Labrada; (R) Steve Reeves Bottom: (L) Franco Columbu; (R) Mike Mentzer
"Come on Eric! Work it! Work it! And...time!"
Eric dropped the ropes, pacing as he huffed and puffed before collapsing to one knee to catch his breath. Sweat dripped off his nose, forming a small puddle on the black foam rubber floor.
"Nice job." Rick and Eric bumped fists. "That's it for today."
"Ya think?" Eric said sarcastically, out of breath. Rick helped him up. "Tomorrow?"
"Same time." Rick responded. He patted Eric on the back as Eric headed to the locker room.
Rick walked around the gym to check on the other trainers and their clients. There was a trainer holding a heavy bag steady for his 20 year old client, a middleweight boxer. He hit the bag hard and with great technique. Rick nodded. He was hands-off, leaving his trainers to their own device, butting in only when he felt it necessary. Rick glanced at the young college girl running on the treadmill. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Rick turned and walked away. Something caught his eye.
