Craig Wilson is the editor of the Hill & Lake Press. He lives in Lowry Hill.
I have always joked that I was built with a body for football but a heart for the arts, think Ferdinand the Bull. I grew up grateful for good genes that made it easy to put on muscle and stay in pretty decent health without thinking too hard about it.
For most of my adult life, exercise was something I did the way people floss. I knew I should and I felt better when I did, but I was never chasing peak performance. Maintenance was fine with me.
Then came middle age and the pandemic, a combination that seems to have rearranged many of our bodies in ways we did not exactly ask for. That easy muscle-making I had relied on for so long quietly shifted into fat-making.
Like everyone else at the time, I was trying to work via Zoom and stay sane through home crafts and expanded wine drinking. Exercise slid down the priority list and I found myself floating in a strange limbo where nothing felt quite right, but I did not know what to fix first.
Before all that, I had been part of a nearby boutique health club, now shuttered, with ample parking in the BP, Before Pandemic. It was polished and social and, at the time, exactly what I needed. When I gave up my downtown office and started working virtually from home, the built-in community became a lifeline.
The routine of showing up, sweating alongside the same familiar faces and riding the dopamine wave of both social connection and a runner’s high kept me steady.
But the deeper I got into the club, the more I saw behind the curtain. The human flaws, the small dramas, the things you cannot unsee once you see them. When the pandemic hit, my departure from that world lined up with everything else going sideways.
Like many people, I tried to piece together a fitness routine at home. Virtual Peloton classes, long walks around the lakes and improvised workouts in rooms never meant to be gyms. It kept me moving but never truly pulled me back into a routine I looked forward to. Something was missing.
Then a friend mentioned Los Campeones Gym in Whittier.
This friend is many things but not someone I would expect to evangelize a weightlifting gym, the one and only Susan Lenfestey.
My stereotype of the place was clear. I pictured walls lined with giant humans preparing for competitions and an energy I was not interested in navigating. Still, I was curious enough to poke around online. That is when I found a profile for Andrew Heaton.
Andrew’s focus on aging well through strength training immediately stood out. This was not a lift-big-or-go-home coach. This was someone talking about functional movement, cardiovascular health and long-term well-being.
I reached out and we talked. It was easy, unrushed and refreshingly human, without a usedcar pitch. He did a full assessment of my flexibility, strength, sleep habits and movement patterns. Then he built a corrective plan that met me where I actually was, not where I wished I still were.
“Andrew’s focus on aging well through strength training immediately stood out. This was not a lift-big-or-go-home coach. This was someone talking about functional movement, cardiovascular health and long term well-being.”
I appreciated the range of coaching options at different rates, including one-on-one sessions, small groups where he rotates between clients while encouraging independence, home visits and virtual options.
I have been working with him for eight months and the improvements are real. My back pain is easing. My strength and flexibility are returning. I feel like I have a roadmap again.
As for Los Campeones itself, it is the opposite of fancy. The parking lot is small but there is free street parking, or you can ride your bike. The equipment is well used. The amenities are basic. And yet it might be the most judgment-free environment I have ever exercised in. People of every age, gender identity, race and body type move through their routines without pretense. No one is there for the drama. They are there to work.
I liked it so much that I joined the gym so I could train on my own outside of sessions with Andrew, a sign that I am becoming independent again.
Somehow, against my own expectations, I have found my place. A no-frills gym, a solid coach and a reminder that taking care of ourselves can be simple when we stop making it complicated and just show up.
