"I spiraled down big time and became a heavy drinker. I figured if I couldn't wrestle anymore, there really wasn't much else to live for."
Phillip Arnold knew gold and glory. A decorated state champion and collegiate All-American, he dominated his wrestling competition in high school and then college. He was his high school’s first back-to-back state champ and finished his senior season 31-0. But an injury forced the him from his path, and when no longer able to command the mat, his weight blew up while his confidence and motivation plummeted – something he dealt with by eating and drinking alcohol.
More than two decades later, he visited World Camp CrossFit. He stood in the doorway weighing more than 300 pounds and watched people do what he knew he once could. It was there where his life took another turn. Within the walls of the box, the 39-year-old underwent a transformation. He shed 120 pounds in nine months and gained a new family in the most unexpected fashion.
It’s also where he prepared himself to return to the mat.
Growing up in Columbia, Mo., Arnold began wrestling when he was in eighth grade. “I fell in love with the sport from the beginning,” he says. “It’s an individual sport. There is no one else to rely on or blame.”
Many thought he wouldn’t be successful because he started competing at what some consider a late age for the sport. “That was always (my) drive – making those naysayers eat their words,” Arnold says.
Arnold did quiet his critics as he went on to become a two-time Missouri state high school wrestling champion, three-time Missouri Greco Roman champion, three-time Missouri freestyle champion, two-time Southern Regional champion and two-time high school and collegiate All-American. As a blue chip recruit out of high school, Arnold wrestled for the University of Missouri and Missouri Valley College. He wrestled at 171 pounds in high school and 190 in college.
He even had his hopes set on competing at the 1996 and 2000 Olympic Games, but his life veered onto a different course after he blew out his anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) and posterior cruciate ligament (PCL) during collegiate wrestling practice. Arnold describes it as the worst day of his life.
“(The injury) not only took its toll physically, but mentally as well,” Arnold says.
Arnold still recalls watching his college roommate, Sam Henson, win the silver medal in the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. “I remember crying. Because I was happy for him, but also sad because I wanted to do it, too. I spiraled down big time and became a heavy drinker,” he says. “I figured if I couldn’t wrestle anymore, there really wasn’t much else to live for.”
As he began to lose control of his life through binge drinking and eating, this former champion wrestler eventually found he was unable to even walk up a flight of stairs without having to rest. At 5’9, his weight ballooned to 362 pounds.
“I knew it was out of control but didn't really care. It was almost as if I was just waiting to have a heart attack and end it all. I was always depressed. Hated the fact that I could not go outside and run around playing with my sons. Inside, I knew that I needed to do something, but I did not know where to start,” Arnold says. “And then the pride of a wrestler is on a whole different level. There was still a part of my mind that thought I was still this ‘stud’ of a wrestler. My outward appearance told an entirely different story.”
In December 2011, Arnold was invited by a friend to watch a workout at World Camp CrossFit. “Watching the first workout was very intimidating,” Arnold says. “There were all these fit people that made it all look so simple. No one looked anything like I did. Quite honestly, it scared the crap out of me. But for some reason, I found myself coming back to watch another. Inside, I really wanted to give it a try, but I knew it would be a very embarrassing experience.”
Kris Morrill, owner of WCCF, noticed Arnold standing by the front door quietly watching the workouts. “After three days, I told him that the next time he came in, he better have workout clothes or don’t come back at all,” Morrill says.
On January 2, Arnold worked up the courage for his first CrossFit workout. “I will never forget the first day,” he recalls. “It was horrible. The first warm-up was high knees. That had to have been the longest 15 feet of my life. I was out of breath and already sweating. And that was before we had to turn around and do it again. I was so heavy, I was unable to get down to do Samson stretches. When it was time to do push-ups, Kris had me do them from my knees. My mind was racing, and on the inside, I swear I was crying like a baby.”
But he pushed through.
“How bad was it? I threw up right after the warm-up,” Arnold says. “Here I was, this former champion wrestler unable to do the most simple movements. Every part of my body screamed. I was ashamed that I couldn't do much of anything.”
Arnold continued on to the workout of the day consisting of pull-ups, dips and sit-ups, which he scaled. Upon completion, he threw up again. He will never forget all of the people who encouraged him to keep going and told him he was doing a good job.
“Good job? Who were they watching? I had weighed in when I got there at 327 pounds. My clothes were soaked, I'm sure I smelled horrible, but all these strangers were patting me on the back,” he says. “I really didn't want to come back. I just wanted to get away from there, run and bury my face in a pizza and a vat of beer. On the way out the door, Kris told me ‘good job’ and (that) he’ll see me tomorrow.”
After two weeks at WCCF, Arnold moved to the 9 a.m. class, which fit better with his work schedule. The class was primarily made up of moms and housewives. “Now I am surrounded by about 20 women, all color-coordinated, looking cute with bodies to die for,” Arnold says. “They wore bright designer shoes, matching socks, shorts and shirts. And there I stand, in my grubby sweat pants. How was I going to be able to work out with all these chicks? Then they started talking to me and introducing themselves. Awkward. No way was I going to fit in. Let's be honest, I'm an over-300-pound black guy, surrounded by skinny white ladies, in the deep South. You do the math. But the crazy part? Everyone was beyond nice.”
Arnold remembers his new classmates, who finished the workout long before him, surrounding him and cheering him on to finish. And yes, he threw up once again.
“I finally finished and literally fell out on the floor. I probably laid there for five or six minutes,” he says. “When I sat up to clean up my weights and put my kettlebell back, it was already done. To this day, I have no clue who did it. I didn't ask for their help. Honestly, I didn't think I needed it. But I did. And I needed them. There is really no reason why I fit in with those ladies. But with them, I found a family; a bunch of sisters and a couple of moms. They supported me, and I learned to support them.”
Arnold continued CrossFitting and adopted the paleo diet and the weight started coming off. His new 9 a.m. family was there every step of the way, encouraging him to continue when he wanted to quit and celebrating every time he hit a new weight loss goal. When he reached 75 pounds of weight loss, Arnold was so emotional he could barely announce his new milestone to the girls. “I cried. They cried. But that's what family does. We stick together. We play together. We cry together,” he says.
“Watching Phil push himself and transform himself became a huge motivator for the whole class,” Tina Mitchell says. “We are all very invested in his success, and in return, he has become part of ours. He would share he dropped more weight and body fat, and we would have a little celebration consisting of hugs and high fives. He is a true testimony to commitment, hard work and CrossFit. I don't really think he has any idea of the imprint he has made in our lives.”
Arnold says the ladies influenced his fashion sense, too.
“This group of women has meant the world to me,” he says. “Now? Um, my shoes are brighter than all of theirs. I never go to workout without making sure my headband matches my socks. I carry two other pairs of shoes in my bag just in case. I have a different set of workout clothes for every day of the week, and yes, they all match. Bottom line, I look good, and I owe it all to the 9 a.m. housewives crew.”
Nine months after adopting a CrossFit lifestyle, Arnold currently stands at 207 pounds for a total weight loss of 120 pounds. “I honestly cannot describe how it feels without crying,” he says. “It's hard to look in the mirror and not think that I am dreaming. But it's the little things that are most surreal. Seeing my shadow is strange to me. For so long, it was plump and round. Now, there is still a shape, but it is formed and more sculpted.”
Due to the fast weight loss, Arnold has some excess skin around his mid-section. “Someone asked if I was considering having it removed,” Arnold says. “The answer is a resounding ‘No!’ If it goes away on its own, so be it. But until that time, it will remind me of what I did to myself. It serves as a reminder of what once was and of what will never be again.”
Though warm-ups were once the biggest struggle for Arnold, he now breezes through them. He says that pull-ups are his favorite movement because of the freedom he feels on the bar. He also admits an addiction to double-unders, which he does every day. Arnold says squats are his weakness, but he works on them four times a week to ensure he is consistently reaching full depth.
This summer, Arnold also found redemption on the wrestling mat as he traveled back to his home state for the Missouri State Games where he competed once again. In preparation, his oldest son became his training partner while his youngest son kept time. “Everything slowly came back,” he says. “They say some things are just like riding a bike, and they are right. And what a ride it was. I entered the over-30 class and finished in second place, loosing to a guy younger than me 4-0 in the finals.”
But Arnold says there was no disappointment. “How many fathers can say that they wrestled in a tournament in front of their own sons? How many sons can say that they wrestled in front of their parents 21 years after the last time? I can. I hadn't had hardware placed around my neck since 1993. I was told that I would never wrestle again. I was not supposed to be able to do this. Guess I'm just the guy who never listens to the naysayers.”
Arnold is currently coaching his sons, also wrestlers, and hoping to continue competing in wrestling at the Masters level. He also plans to complete the Level 1 Seminar later this year and maybe even make it to the South East Regional one day.
“CrossFit has taught me so much ... I could have never done what I have done in the last nine months without the support and drive given by my CrossFit family. They helped me regain the pride I once had, but they made me realize something even more important: You can't do this alone,” Arnold says. “CrossFit is not a method, it's not a process and it's not a gym. It's a community. And they take care of their own. Would I like to make it to the Games? Hell yes, I would. But it will not be by myself. It will not be an individual accomplishment like my wrestling was.”
Arnold’s three nephews have followed in his wrestling footsteps and are inspired by him. Arnold even passed down his original headgear to each of them, which they wore – with “State champ ’90” and “State champ ’91” written on either ear piece – to their own state tournaments. They captured a third place, a second place and most recently, another state title, in 2010.
Who gets the headgear now? Seems like Arnold needs it back for his own wrestling matches.