LOU FERRIGNO

Gold's Gym

Venice, CA

July 17, 2009

Photo credit: Lou Ferrigno

I used to love lifting weights. I loved everything about the gym life. I worked at an awesome gym, I was in a gym commercial, I modeled gym clothes and I spent most of my free time studying muscle magazines. I saved those for reference over the years, but eventually, I decided to let them go to brighten someone else’s day. I wanted to give them to someone who would see their value as much as I had and the best place I could think of taking them was to Gold’s, Venice—The Mecca of Bodybuilding.

I walked in and set the pile of now-vintage magazines on the front desk explaining that these were donations. It was a full-circle moment for these mags, as many of the articles were photographed in this very gym, to begin with. The desk girl agreed they would be much appreciated and said they had a new home waiting for them amid the cardio equipment.

Reminiscing about the good ol’ days, I asked for a tour of the gym. I wanted to see any new changes that may have been made since I was a member there in 1995. As we strolled through I saw him. Lou Ferrigno, right there in his natural habitat. He is one of the most well-known bodybuilders on the face of the Earth, and Arnold Schwarzenegger’s prime competition in the 1974 and 1975 Mr. Olympia contests with the latter being the focus of 1977’s amazing documentary, Pumping Iron. What a stud.

But I’m quite aware of gym etiquette, and this was a terrible time to run into him.

My tour concluded back at the front desk where I took a chance and inquired about how my photo request might be received. The desk girl said she didn't care, she didn't think he'd care and I certainly didn't care enough to refrain, so I went in—purse and all—deep onto the gym floor.

I looked so out of place in my flowery linen pants and gold shoes, but I made my way between the preacher curl and the seated row machines to say hello. He’s massive. Six foot, four inches, 300 pounds (give or take), and handsome. He really should be called the Incredible Hunk.

It felt terribly rude to approach him in the gym. I might as well be interrupting Julia Child during dinner. But, working in my favor, he was between sets and seemed tired. I didn't know this at the time, but he had a lot going on in his life, at the moment. He’d been training Michael Jackson for his upcoming and final concert tour, This Is It, until three weeks earlier when that plan abruptly changed.

I knew I'd better make this quick. I said, “This is kind of weird, but I have this Celebrity Photo Album. It’s just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities. Will you take my picture?"

He said, "I can't right now. I'm pumped." He held out his hand palm up, laboriously moving his fingers around so I could see how silly it was to imagine his huge fingertips powering a teeny button on my camera. As he wiggled his enormous fingers I heard the roar of the Incredible Hulk in my head. But, since he hadn’t turned green and wasn’t busting out of his clothes quite yet, I continued, “Do you think you could just....?” I was holding up the camera. Without delay, he stopped his friend who was walking by. “Will you get a picture of us?" Lou handed him my camera and the guy took a step back. "Well,” I said, “that's okay too, but…..” Click. The guy handed my camera back to Lou who then quickly snapped a picture of me. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. He had another set to do and though he was polite, I was cramping his style.

Then he asked if I was a member there. Maybe he wanted to chat after all. I said, "Not yet,” and left it at that. I missed my chance to bond over the fact that I used to belong to this gym and, more importantly, that he’s been living in my little hometown on California's Central Coast for the past 20 years. That coincidence is often relationship-building. No, instead I thanked him for the photos and high-tailed it off the gym floor.

The gym looked the same as it used to, but one thing has surely changed. While he played an angry superhero on TV in the '70s, for the past few years Mr. Ferrigno has been serving as a peace officer to law enforcement agencies across the country.

So, Lou, I marvel at your life as a bodybuilder, and I appreciate you helping members of law enforcement relate to their local communities. But more than anything, I am grateful that you, bodybuilding's Mr. America, a two-time Mr. Universe, and if-you-hadn't-taken-a-break-to-try-playing-professional-football-you-could-have-totally-won Mr. Olympia, took time out of your workout of all things to help me with this project. Thanks for the photos, Officer.

Photo credit: His friend who was walking by