One Year Later

A year ago, on August 4, 2025, I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina. Ironically, it rained for seven consecutive days. Not a passing shower here and there, no, a nonstop torrential downpour. It was one of the most unusual experiences I’ve ever seen. Thank God I don’t believe in omens because that would’ve been a bad one.

I came to Charlotte with a ton of ambition, confidence in my skill set, and a willingness to bet on myself. What I didn’t come with were leads. I wasn’t stepping into an established business, taking over somebody else’s clientele, or moving because I had something lined up. I had no idea where my first client was going to come from. What I did have was something I trusted more than immediate results. I had a process.

That process gave me confidence because I knew it guaranteed one thing: progress. Every day I identified my deliverables and acted immediately. Post content. Build awareness. Meet people. Knock on doors. Create flyers. Leave business cards on elevators and treadmills. Get out into the community. Start conversations. I controlled everything that fell within the parameters of my control because I believed somewhere down the line that persistence would eventually create opportunity.

I thought I was going to dominate the apartment complex scene. Turns out people already paying rent aren’t exactly looking to hire a trainer. I also thought somebody would see me working out, become inspired, and ask for help. It never happened. But none of that discouraged me because my confidence wasn’t attached to outcomes. It was attached to my process. I wasn’t measuring success by whether I landed a client that day. I measured success by whether I executed the plan.

About a week later, that process paid off in a way I never could have predicted. I texted one of my buddies asking if he wanted to meet at a bar to watch the Panthers preseason game. Shedeur Sanders was making the start, and he lived right up the street. His response caught me off guard.

“Forget the bar. My buddy has season tickets. Want to go to the game?”

I was just excited to see one of my favorite athletes play live. What I didn’t realize was that opportunity was about to change the trajectory of my business.

At that game I met Greg Deese. We started talking about fitness, his health, and some of the challenges he was dealing with. I simply did what I love to do. I listened, educated him, and tried to provide value. Before the night was over, he looked at me and said,

“Why don’t you give me a call next week and let’s get a session on the books?”

We did exactly that, and on August 13, 2025, Greg became the very first client of Go Time Fitness.

From that point forward, nothing about the process changed. I continued identifying my deliverables, acting on them immediately, and taking advantage of every opportunity because every opportunity has the potential to create another opportunity.

One year later, I’m blessed to serve more than 100 different people every week. I’ve learned entirely new disciplines. I’m operating out of six different locations throughout Charlotte. I’ve earned more money than I ever imagined, and I emphasize the word earned because my personal effort has been the driving force behind every dollar I’ve made. My schedule has become so full that I’ve had to begin putting inquiries on a waitlist.

The interesting part is none of those things were goals. I didn’t move to Charlotte to become the best trainer or prove myself to anyone else. My goal has always been much simpler. I wanted to maximize my own potential by getting better every single day. I believed that if I focused on my process, progress would naturally follow, and if enough progress accumulated over time, success would become inevitable.

The move itself wasn’t really about changing cities. It was about challenging myself. I had become too comfortable, and I’ve learned that comfort is a wonderful place to rest but a terrible place to grow. I chose uncertainty because I believed growth lived there. I chose to go to war with myself, to trust my preparation, and to believe that if I ever got the opportunity to stand in front of someone, my work would speak for itself.

That mindset still drives me today. Every morning we wake up with another opportunity, and the choices we make throughout the day determine how many opportunities we’ll have tomorrow. That’s why I choose optimism. I choose gratitude. I choose to believe that reality is neutral and that the attitude I bring into the world shapes the experience I get back. Those aren’t personality traits. They’re choices, and those choices have completely changed my life.

Before I finish, I want to thank every single person who has trusted me with their health. Thank you for welcoming me into your community, for believing in me, and for making Charlotte feel like home.

To everyone I left behind in State College, Pennsylvania, I love you all, and I hope I’m making you proud.

There’s one final thought I want to leave you with because I hear it often. People often attribute my success to talent. I’ve heard luck. I’ve heard right place, right time.

I struggle with the word talent. I appreciate the sentiment, and today I can genuinely accept it as a compliment. It speaks to the natural gifts given to me by my parents, and I sincerely appreciate that. But it’s also dismissive.

You weren’t there at 4:50 AM getting my steps in. You weren’t there reading personal development books, taking notes, and searching for one more lesson that might help one more client. You weren’t there at the beginning of the journey, riding a $99 bike I bought at Walmart with $133 in my bank account to an unpaid training program in the heart of winter. You weren’t there when I crashed that bike on the first day, nearly got fired the first week, wondering how I was going to keep going.

You didn’t see the ten years, the 35,000 hours of coaching, the continuing education, the failures, the sacrifices, or the consistency.

That’s why I’ll always appreciate the compliment, but I’ll never apologize for the work.

This wasn’t luck.

It was built one decision, one relationship, one opportunity, and one day at a time.