Blog Post 6 - Who is coach red? Part 3

In case you missed the first two, go back and read those.

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Now, to continue!

But first, a thought. I did not expect to share so much in these blog posts. Some things came up as I went through the recent past that made me stop and reflect on some emotionally painful moments. I’m sharing some but not all. I definitely glossed over or outright skipped past some things, so if you know me personally and aren’t seeing something mentioned, just know I had to make some decisions regarding what to include or keep out.

If you plan to continue reading these blog posts, just know that they’re not all going to be this deep or this personal. These autobiographical posts have been cathartic and I appreciate you reading them. But I’ll definitely get into some other topics moving forward. Thanks and enjoy!

San Diego, Back to School, Heartbreak, and a Huge Risk

I have heard that your 20s can be a rough time, learning more about yourself, figuring out what you want to do with your life, things of that nature.

But man, I had some serious existential dread in my 20s.

I had this feeling of being boxed in, like my life choices were more and more limited by the day. I had put off going back to school after undergrad because I felt that was the only option I had, so I avoided it by looking for jobs I had no business doing.

This week, I’ll share about my time in San Diego, working for a very strange company while also training in a lions’ den of an MMA gym. I will also discuss moving back home to pursue a teaching career and how that career ultimately gave way to gym ownership in a town where I knew nothing of the prospects of running a business.

Becca and I in our tiny San Diego apartment. This is Martha, the first dog we had together. We miss her every day.

San Diego: a Big Boy Job and a Big Boy Gym

Both Becca and I were hired by companies in San Diego, so we packed up and moved into a pretty sketchy neighborhood called City Heights.

Sketchy how?

Well, the week we moved in, some dude was stabbed multiple times on the very street where our apartment was.

So there’s that.

Becca was hired as a copywriter, writing social media posts and ad copy for a start up company, something she would continue to do for various companies over the next few years. I was hired by a research firm that scouted for publicly funded design contracts and sold the information to our clients. Getting this information ahead of time can make a big difference for these companies as these contracts are extremely competitive.

As exciting as that sounds, the job could not be more mundane. For 9 hours a day, I would scan the Internet for ads enlisting companies to put in bids for publicly funded projects such as building highways, schools, and other such things. Once I found the ads, I had to write up a short summary of what the project entailed and how much the project would cost. This is when I discovered podcasts, which were truly helpful in helping the time go by as my eyes endlessly scanned my computer screen for buzzwords like “RFP” or “bids.” It was absolutely mindnumbing work.

The job wasn’t all bad. I made some friends and every Friday was a half day, so we’d work for 4 hours and then hit the beach as our office was literally a short walk from the shores of Pacific Beach. I did the silly thing of being decently competent at my job and got promoted to an editor (not as glamorous as you’d think). Soon enough I was eligible to start training new hires and found myself enjoying the prospect of teaching others. By this time in my life, I had already been coaching for about 5 years and had also done some substitute teaching, so here I was again in the role of teacher. I couldn’t escape it!

My first trainee was a bright young woman who inadvertently helped show me that teaching was ultimately my destiny. When I left the company, she ended up taking my old position for a while. My boss was pretty upset that I was leaving, even bringing in the owner of the company to convince me to stay. But I knew then I was going nowhere in this company and finally came to terms with the truth that I was a teacher and should begin the necessary steps for my credential.

I let Becca know what my plan was and how we should go about it. I figured going back to my old high school to resume substitute teaching would be a good idea to get my face seen, in case any openings occurred while I was getting my teaching credential. We packed up and moved back home to Lake Elsinore, I started taking online classes for my teaching credential, got work substitute teaching, and also came back to coaching wrestling.

Though the job I had was dull, the gym I signed up for was not. I started training at The Arena, an MMA gym about 10 minutes from Pacific Beach. I trained with legends of the game, hungry up and comers, and pros looking to make a name for themselves.

Room full of killers. And no, the sprinklers did not cause the mats to look like that…

If my students want to blame someone for my hard leg kicks, blame the guy to my left in the photo, Alex Trinidad. My legs still hurt from his kicks.

Post-sparring photos were a requirement.

This was my sink or swim moment in my MMA journey. There were days that I really thought about not pursuing MMA any longer, thinking I simply was not good enough. But I kept showing up. Above anything else I did along the way, that made the single greatest difference. I took rest days to recover, but I stayed consistent over the year plus that I trained in San Diego.

Eventually I was asked by Coach Charles Martinez (he now owns a gym out east, Atlas Wellness MMA) if I wanted to fight. I nervously said yes, remembering my back-to-back losses only a year ago.

I decided that for this fight I wasn’t going to tell anybody about it. The only person outside my team that knew was Becca, and she helped by managing my diet and weight cut. I needed to do this fight for me without any concern or regard for who was going to show up and watch. I had to know if this was something I wanted to do, for myself and not for anyone else.

Camp went well, my weight cut was a breeze, and weigh-ins went smooth. I couldn’t have felt better about my preparation or my well being that day. I had some lingering injuries, but who doesn’t?

I warmed up with my team, got my hands wrapped, and waited until it was my turn to walk to the cage. The waiting is the absolute worst. Anyone who’s ever competed in a combat sport understands the dreaded waiting.

The cage doors locked, my opponent stood mere feet away from me, Chris Leben was on the commentary, and the ref pointed at me and asked “ready to fight?”

The bell goes and I remembered what my teammate Alex Trinidad had said to me during fight camp. During his amateur career, he’d start every fight with a hard cross, right down the pipe. It was great advice and it certainly set the tone for the fight after I threw it.

I won the first round, landed some hard shots and even stumbled him towards the end of the round. In the second, I got the takedown, landed some ground and pound, took the back, and secured the choke.

It was indescribable. Utter elation, relief, and confirmation in my beliefs about myself. Watching the fight back now, it seems like any other mundane amateur mma bout, really nothing to brag about. But in that moment, to me, it was everything.

Easiest weight cut of my life.

Career Change, Back to the Inland Empire

I had a sudden moment of clarity at my crappy office job. I knew for certain that this was not where I wanted to be, once again feeling the pull towards a career as a school teacher. After a talk with Becca, we decided to move back to Lake Elsinore so I could pursue a teaching career in earnest. Moving back would also make it easier for us to one day get a house as opposed to owning a home in San Diego.

I took online classes for my credential and started substitute teaching once again. Being a sub is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. Some classes were totally chill and I genuinely enjoyed the kids. Most of the classes, however, were just terrible. But I couldn’t complain because I was often able to do my coursework during the day. Plus, I can remember a time in my youth when I wasn’t so pleasant to subs, so well deserved payback, I’d say.

Being back at my alma mater also gave me the chance to coach high school wrestling again. I truly missed the grind of the wrestling season and helping kids reach their potential.

My plan was simple. Earn my teaching credential while substitute teaching and gain some face time with the folks at the high school so when there was an opening, I’d be in position to step in. One year after I returned, I took over as head coach of the wrestling program. So if I were to be hired as a teacher, I would be wearing the same shoes my head wrestling coach had worn, teaching during the day and coaching wrestling at night. This vision was my north star and kept me going despite multiple adversities.

But not everything goes according to plan.

As I worked through my credential coursework, I had become eligible for a teaching internship, meaning I could be hired as a full time teacher while I completed my credential. This would take the place of student teaching, which is unpaid (hilarious).

I applied to several teaching positions, including outside of the district I was working in already. I went to a few interviews, but left all of them knowing full well I wasn’t going to be hired. Districts don’t really want to hire interns as it can look bad for them. Plus, hiring an intern can be risky as opposed to hiring someone fully credentialed already.

On a whim, I applied for a position in the Moreno Valley School District. I was still dead set on getting hired at my school where I was coaching, but I desperately needed a job.

The strange thing about this particular interview was how relaxed and loose I felt in the room. This would have been my 5th or 6th interview, and I suppose I was almost in a “screw it” mentality, as if I believed they had no earthly business in hiring me so who cares how this goes.

It must have gone really well because I got a call the next day from HR asking me to accept the position.

I was coaching at the CIF individual tournament, one of the stepping stones towards the State tournament. I was in shock, not believing at all what was happening.

I made the decision to continue being the head coach in Lake Elsinore while I taught during the day at Canyon Springs High School in Moreno Valley. The administration at Canyon understood my goal was to teach and coach at my alma mater, so they knew my hiring was possibly a temporary move on their part. It was a rough time, going back and forth between Lake Elsinore and Moreno Valley, about an hour one way with intense traffic. I didn’t mind because I knew what I was ultimately working towards.

Some photos of my second classroom. My first room was in an older building on campus.

This is from my first classroom. At the end of the semester, I had students write a quote on the board that had a special meaning to them.

Distance Learning

My first semester as an intern went well considering I was stepping in as a new teacher in the middle of the spring semester. I was hired the last week of February 2019. Apparently the teacher I was hired to replace was well loved by her students, so it was a rough go earning those kids’ respect. I still vividly remember a student looking me in the eye and saying “you won’t last a week.” A few despised me, but most warmed up to me well enough.

I had great colleagues and teacher friends who helped me out a ton.

I was still developing my own teaching style while simultaneously trying to gain rapport with the students. At this point I’m 28 and was doing my best to define that line of “I’m an authority figure, fear and respect me” and “I’m young and hip, fellow kids!” I also didn’t have my beard yet, so the clean shaven look wasn’t helping at all.

My very first time in my classroom. I hadn’t even met my students yet.

I essentially was performing a juggling act during this time. I taught all day in Moreno Valley, then drove down to Lake Elsinore to coach wrestling practice, then went home to lesson plan and complete my credential course work. Overwhelming at times, but I made it work.

Spring of 2020, everything comes to a halt. All teachers and students are told to stay home while the coronavirus situation gets figured out. At first this was a welcome break in the grind, but that quickly gave way to dreadful uncertainty.

The rest of that semester essentially became voluntary for the students. I would communicate with them online, give them an assignment to complete with no repercussions if they did not complete it, and their grades were frozen with the opportunity to complete assignments to raise their grade.

Most students who had good grades didn’t bother with the assignments, and understandably so. A few students with low grades took advantage of opportunities, but most did not. When the semester ended and summer break began, everything was still shut down and no one knew what was going to happen next.

After negotiations, it was decided that the upcoming semester would be online with classes done via Zoom (this is when their stock price went bananas…). The two words that would forever be nails on a chalkboard for teachers, “synchronous” and “asynchronous.” We had to be online with the students in Zoom for a minimum amount of time and also prepare “asynchronous” work for the students to complete either with us during the Zoom call or on the students’ own time.

This is the part where I went insane, as did many other teachers.

We would open up the Zoom call and see a sea of little black screens staring back at us. We’d ask questions into the void and almost always get no response. I didn’t get into teaching to not have interactions with my students, and the silence in the Zoom calls only became more deafening over time.

I had one class period where a few students would interact with me and the class, turning on their cameras and even chatting on the mic. These kids seriously were the best part of my day during distance learning. I was so grateful for the nuggets of interaction with these students, most of it being as nonacademic as you can get.

The extent of the pandemic’s impact on my decision to leave teaching can’t be known for sure, but I’m positive that it was significant. I don’t know if I would have made the same decision to leave if the pandemic didn’t happen. Maybe it facilitated my leaving?

There came a point during the pandemic when districts allowed for student athletes to return to practices, but with restrictions. Everything had to be outdoors, everything was zero contact, and everyone participating had to get weekly covid tests.

Not ideal conditions for a physical sport like wrestling.

I’d pull up to the school and instead of heading to the wrestling room, I’d meet the kids on a field and run them through wrestling drills on the grass with no contact at all. It was utterly ridiculous, but it was part of the hoops we had to jump through at the time.

As the pandemic progressed we would slowly get more opportunities, eventually getting the green light for competitions. We could only have dual meets (1 school vs 1 school) but no tournaments where multiple schools compete in one venue. That meant no State tournament, which is the goal of thousands of wrestlers, to have the chance to stand on the podium shoulder to shoulder with the cream of the crop.

From my first year as head coach.

From the Sierra Nevada Wrestling Tournament in Reno, NV. The lore of this journey will both haunt and amuse me until the day I die.

The Hardest Decision

I was burning the candles at both ends by teaching in one district and coaching in another. I had to use my PTO in order to take the day off for competitions. When you’re a coach for the school you teach at, you get your sub paid for by the district. But when you teach at one school and coach for another, those days are taken from your personal sick days, and when you run out of those, you pay for the sub from your salary. This juggling act was getting more and more difficult by the day.

During distance learning, I was still taking coursework to finish my teaching credential. I ended up becoming a fully credentialed teacher during the pandemic by doing ridiculous online simulations since I could not do any in-classroom work. It still feels like a fever dream playing these online simulations, teaching to virtual students who cried every time I interacted with them. It was absolutely absurd and there were times I wanted to throw my computer at the wall. On top of that were the TPAs. I might have to do a whole separate blog post on those completely asinine tasks that aspiring teachers have to do. Suffice to say, they are laborious, useless, and an utter waste of time, but I completed them in order to finish my credential. It was good timing, too, because there was an opening that I could apply for at my alma mater. Finally, I was going to bring this journey to a close, teaching and coaching at the place I’ve called home for years.

I applied, was selected for an interview (via Zoom), and finally got the chance I’d been dreaming about.

Apparently, it was the worst interview anyone has ever done.

On the panel were several people I knew personally, many of them teachers I’ve had in the past, have subbed for, or were administrators that I answered to in my capacities as head wrestling coach (one of them being the Athletic Director for the school).

Weeks went by after the interview with no correspondence until I received a boiler plate email from HR notifying me that I was not selected for the position.

I felt heartbroken, and, honestly, a bit betrayed. The very school that I’ve dedicated my life to rejected me, and the very people that I worked with, and to whom I have made intentions clear from day one, did not bother to let me know about the decision to pass me over. I had to find out from a generic email, not even from the Athletic Director, but just some auto-generated crap. I’ve been rejected many times in my life, but this was the ultimate low.

I eventually was able to speak with the Athletic Director who said that my interview was terrible, that I came across as smug and arrogant, believing that I already had the job in the bag.

It was my 15 minutes to show off, and I didn’t step up according to him.

I took him at his word, even when he said he went to bat for me only to lose out to the others on the panel. He really was a good guy, I enjoyed working with him for the most part, but he definitely was working within a flawed system. We had several disagreements and one time even had a heated argument.

I later found out that the person hired for the position was a friend of a few people on the panel. I’m not going to assert that that was the only reason for not hiring me. I’ll own my mistakes and take accountability, but just knowing that there was a personal history between the hired person and those on the panel really irked me. I was especially hurt because I had let the Athletic Director know that I was going to have to make a decision with respect to staying on as head coach if they chose not to hire me as a teacher. Once I got word they did not hire me, the decision was made for me to leave.

I handed my resignation to the Athletic Director, notifying him that I was to leave my post as head coach upon the conclusion of the wrestling season.

I still struggle to describe my state of being at this point in my life. I was walking away from something that had been a gigantic part of my life for over a decade. This aspect of my life was not supplementary, it was my identity. I was not a wrestling coach, but the wrestling coach for the Titan wrestling team. By losing this title, I felt I lost myself. This very program saved me from a very dark place when I joined my sophomore year of high school.

Making the announcement to the team was especially difficult. There were kids on that team that I knew since before they were in high school, kids that I was very close with, and to tell them that I was no longer going to be their coach was a new kind of hurt.

The season ended, I said my goodbyes while also reassuring the team that I will always be a resource for them. The one ray of light in all of this was that my good friend and assistant was able to take over as head of the program. At least I was able to leave knowing that the team was in good hands.

This is from my last tournament as Temescal Canyon’s coach. It was a brutally emotional day, but I was glad to have one more chance to coach under the Titan banner.

Saying goodbye to the team. I’m stuck under that dog pile. They also took my shoes.

New Team, Back to Normal(?)

I joined the Canyon Springs wrestling team as an assistant coach. I was already friends with the coaching staff, and became quite close with them over the years I was with them. This is a storied program with several team and individual accomplishments since their inception in 1987.

At this point in time, everyone is back in the classroom, but still with heavy restrictions. All students and staff had to wear masks, everyone had to stay apart, and if someone got covid we had to document it and keep people at home if they were in close contact with that person.

My biggest issue at this time was the push to get back to normalcy, despite nothing about the circumstances being normal. Many parents lost their jobs during the pandemic, kids and staff alike lost loved ones to covid, or were otherwise traumatized by the lockdowns and restrictions put in place.

Nothing was normal, so why the constant push to make everything seem normal?

These kids in the classroom were something else.

Emotionally and socially stunted.

Many of them acted like the classroom was still online, as if they were still at home in front of the computer, checked out and not present. Asking them to do anything remotely challenging was a nonstarter.

Due dates? Yeah, those don’t matter.

Write a page-long response? You’re lucky to get a sentence or two.

Read this book? No, I’m going to keep practicing my TikTok routine while you’re teaching.

The kids were feral, and no amount of “getting back to normal” was going to have any hope at changing that. And no, not every student was like that. I had some very special students who were just amazing people, who recognized we were going through especially difficult times. I have many notes and emails from students that I still have saved and reread every now and again, and they always bring a smile to my face. I will always be grateful for those students.

These challenges of getting back to the classroom only made my depression worse. I was already in a weakened state upon my departure from Temescal. I was welcomed and loved by my new team, but it couldn’t completely address my ever increasing emotional turmoil.

I remember vividly the very day where I reached my limit. I had had a difficult class period where nothing was accomplished, the class could not focus, and after the class left I was a shell of myself. Mind you, this was stacked upon the countless days where I experienced similar feelings, not just one particularly bad day.

I loved my job, I loved being a teacher helping kids who needed someone like me, but it was slowly killing me.

That’s when I had a conversation that would change my life forever.

Me and the homie Coach Lowe. I got him into fanny packs and short-shorts. You’re welcome, J.

Coaching in the CA State Finals. We cleaned up good.

Crazy eyes.

To the Mountains!

Fight Syndicate was expanding. There were plans for a few locations, including Mexico. One such planned spot was Big Bear. Speaking with Coach Beau, he offered me the opportunity to run a fight gym in Big Bear, and I couldn’t say no.

I spoke with my wife, told her the plan, and she was 100% on board. Since day one, this lady has been my ride or die. I can’t express enough how much I appreciate her love and support. We’ve visited Big Bear many times, and had even talked about buying property. But never did we think we’d move to Big Bear full time.

The problem was there was a time crunch. I spoke with Beau in November, and the lease for the gym was set to start in January but the semester for school did not end until June. Commuting back and forth from Big Bear to Moreno Valley was out of the question. I had to make another hard decision if I wanted to make this business successful. I had to leave my teaching and coaching position during the semester in order to put my full attention into the gym.

By this time, I had close relationships with many students and teachers, and I once again had a familiar pain when I told them I was leaving. The difference this time was that I was the one making the decision to leave. I held on for as long as I could, at least waiting until the wrestling season concluded before making my departure.

I spent so much time putting together lessons for the person stepping in to take over for my classroom. I did not want to add insult to injury by walking away with no plans or support whatsoever. I said my goodbyes to my students and to my amazing teacher friends, packed up everything I owned, moved to the mountains, and never looked back.

Here we are three years later, and I couldn’t be happier.

The night we received our brown belts. Forever grateful for this journey and the people who have and continue to support me.