There are men who pass through life… And then there are men who leave a mark so deep, you can still feel their presence even when they’re gone. Chuck Norris was one of those men. To the world, he was strength. A fighter. A champion. An icon. But to those who truly paid attention… he was something more refined… A man of faith. A man of discipline. A man who understood that martial arts was never just about combat— It was about character. A Defining Moment — Fort Pierce, Florida (Mid-80s) I want to share something personal… Back in the mid-80s—around 1984 or ’85—I was living in Fort Pierce, Florida. I was doing construction work… Training in martial arts… And at the same time, I was a ballet dancer. Yeah… that combination right there already tells you the kind of path I was walking. And then one day… life lined something up. Chuck Norris was in town filming Invasion U.S.A.. And I got the chance to meet him. Now let me tell you something… For a young martial artist… trying to find his way… that moment was monumental. But what stayed with me wasn’t just who he was… It was how he was. He was gracious. Present. Grounded. We spoke about martial arts… we spoke about acting… And when I shared that I was a ballet dancer training in martial arts— he didn’t look at that sideways. He appreciated it. He respected it. He thought it was cool. And that right there… That told me everything I needed to know about the man. Because a secure man… a real martial artist… Doesn’t judge the path— He recognizes the discipline behind it. The Lesson That Stayed With Me You see… moments like that… They don’t just pass. They plant something. That interaction showed me: Strength can be kind. Confidence can be quiet. And greatness doesn’t need to announce itself. The Man Beyond the Legend He didn’t just play the role of a strong man… He lived it. Quiet confidence. Unshakable values. A presence that said, “I know who I am.” And he stood on that. In his beliefs.

This morning I completed Day One of a new strength practice. And I did it in the simplest way possible. Right next to my dining room table… just a few feet away from my laptop where I spend my mornings working. No gym. No fancy equipment. Just about twenty minutes of movement. Push-ups. Squats. Step-ups. Core work. Nothing complicated. And that’s exactly the point. --- My Morning Rhythm Most mornings I’m up around 4 a.m. I get right to work. Writing, creating, building the Living Strong projects—whatever needs my attention that day. I usually work straight through until about 10:30 or 11 a.m. That’s when I take a break, reset a bit, and decide whether I’ll head to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for the noon classes. Today, instead of heading out right away, I did something that I know my body needs. At 11 a.m., I did my strength training. Right there in my dining room. --- I Didn’t Wait for Perfect Over the last few weeks I realized something about my own training. Even though I stay active and train jiu-jitsu, I haven’t been doing enough strength work to support my body the way I should. At almost 65 years old, and living with rheumatoid arthritis, strength training isn’t optional anymore. It’s necessary. So instead of spending weeks researching the perfect program, I did something much more important. I made a simple plan. And today… I started. --- The Plan Isn’t Perfect The workout I did today will probably change. I’ll adjust exercises. I’ll refine the timing. I’ll learn what works best for my body. But here’s the key lesson. It doesn’t have to be perfect to begin. Too many men wait. They wait for the perfect program. The perfect schedule. The perfect gym. The perfect moment. And while they’re waiting… Nothing happens. --- About the Video I recorded my workout this morning and included the video here with this post. The original workout was about 24 minutes, so the video you see here is sped up so you can watch the whole session quickly.

Blessed to be 64 and back on the mats with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Thank you to my coach Professor Tony at McHugh BJJ.