I’ve long had a love for history, politics, foreign policy, and anything related to this subject matter. Yet, when I stepped foot into the high school weight room, my brain rewired. It was June 8th, 2005, and I had been sick and tired of being the small, weak kid with a tough time standing his ground.
All summer, I learned new techniques regarding fitness, and I fell in love, but thirteen years later, in 2018, I realize I cheated on my first love, and therefore cheated on myself. Sure, fitness remains an integral part of my life. In fact, I can’t go more than twelve hours without a workout. This is two workouts a day, seven days a week, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year. That’s a lot of physical activity. Working as a personal trainer allows me to do that.
It’s funny, because I’ve never been that “typical trainer.” For one, I’m not very outgoing unless the person sitting across from me possesses a common interest of mine. With that being said, if it isn’t about sports, libertarian politics, magic, fantasy, false flags, free market capitalism, the destruction of the two-party system, ending the Fed, Harry Potter, or anything relevant, I’ll be in my office and glued to either a book, an internet article, or my phone. I’m also an INFJ, which means I have the rarest personality type which no one in society understands other than INFJs themselves. Sure, INFPs, INTPs, and INTJs might relate to an extent, but the only one who understands an INFJ is the INFJ itself.
Sure, I’m a muscular guy who loves to train like a beast, only I don’t go for size. I’m not a big guy. In fact, I’m about five feet, six inches tall and weight about one-hundred and sixty-five pounds. There is nothing intimidating about me. I like to remain somewhat lean in winter, and have my body fat in the single digits come spring, summer, and fall. But what’s funny is I actually have the same fitness goals as my main characters in my books, all of whom possess an athletic physique. Nothing bodybuilder, nothing overly muscular, just a good old-fashioned attractive look of nobility.
That itch, the itch of morphing back into the former self I thought I had killed somewhere between 2005 and 2009 began back in 2014, when I started writing something. It wasn’t anything fancy. Heck, I don’t even have the original copy, but the early days of rebirthing my original self, began towards the end of the year, around September or October. It was then I started to tear down “nothing but fitness” Todd and begin to go back to who I was during my younger days. At my age, my younger days are referred to as grade school and middle school.
Yet, here I stand, making up for lost time, getting my hands on everything Ron Paul, Cato Institute, and anything related. Reading fantasy and garnering ideas is another pastime of mine. Reading books on how to hook a reader and draw them in without ever letting them go has become a commonality. So has investing my hard earned money through my day job and entering private writers forums, conferences, and webinars, which have been a huge help. Even at twenty-six, I feel like I’ve lost a lot of time, but thankfully I’m still young enough to recoup this loss and dig myself out of this hole I’ve dug myself into.
This episode of my journey is just an overview, and in subsequent texts, I’ll go over the what’s and how’s as to why I decided to make writing a top priority once more and the endless opportunity associated with it. This is only my beginning, not a new beginning, but a beginning which never happened due to my desire to once upon a time ‘fit in.’ Well, now I’m done trying to fit in, as I’ve found zero value in it. Now is the time to pursue the true passion, one of which I nearly let slip out of my hands.


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