In Honor of Tom Roan
Tom wasn’t just a co-owner of this gym—he is its foundation. He lived and breathed what he taught. Fitness wasn’t something he talked about; it was something he lived every single day.
In college, Tom was a running back before choosing the path that truly called to him. He left football to join the weightlifting team, a decision that led him to set a national squat record—an accomplishment he never chased recognition for. Tom didn’t need recognition. The work always spoke for itself.
He believed in dedication, consistency, and persistence. He was ahead of his time, grounded in principles long before they were popular, and he practiced them daily. He never asked anyone to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself.
Tom changed countless lives for the better. People loved him. His stories were legendary, and if you were lucky, you might catch one during a quick breathing break between sets—always perfectly timed, always worth it. Even then, he was teaching, connecting, and lifting people up.
Nutrition was no different. Tom always said:
“You’re not going to get fat eating fruits, vegetables, and lean meat—chicken and fish.”
He talked often about how good eggs were, calling them the most complete food you could eat—long before the commercial industry tried to convince everyone otherwise. As with everything, he trusted real food, common sense, and consistency over trends.
Despite everything he accomplished, Tom remained humble. You’d rarely see him pose—maybe once, briefly, in a bathroom mirror. That quiet confidence was simply who he was.
Tom loved 60s music, and it played often in this gym—sometimes enough to cause a small tiff between us. Now when those same songs come on, it’s:
“the same old song with a different meaning since you’ve been gone.”
Every note carries memory, love, and presence.
Tom is not missed—he is honored. His knowledge, values, and standards live on through this gym and through every person who trains here. I will continue to pass on what he taught and honor all that he accomplished.
In honor of Tom Roan — my love.