My Testimony

I started running in Antigua before I could call it training. 100-meter dashes became basketball moves. At 15, I outran the best players in the country for a spot on the national youth team.

When I moved to NYC, I ran with my best friend to make it into college. When I moved to Palm Bay in 2006, I ran the streets to learn the city. Every new place, every transition, every version of myself—running was there.

The Rupture

Bodybuilding came later. The trophies. The stages. The identity.

In 2017, while training for my fourth competition, I tore my bicep carrying a washing machine up a flight of stairs. In a split second, the identity I’d built for decades snapped. For three years, I didn’t compete. I avoided the gym. I thought that without the stage, I wasn't an athlete anymore.

The Realization

But running? Running never left. It didn't save me; it was just still there—like it had been since I was a kid. No gym, no equipment, and no applause. Just the street, my breath, and the next step.

When I finally returned to bodybuilding in 2020, I realized something: The sport that gave me trophies taught me how to lift, but the practice that’s been with me my whole life taught me how to return.

The Unseen Race

There are no medals for the miles you run alone. There are no records for how you outlast your own doubts, and no scoreboards for the races you run just to feel like yourself again.

GYMUWELL'S RUN exists to honor that work.

This brand is my testimony, but it’s your recognition. The garments are the uniform for the unseen races you’ve been running your whole life. The ones that built you. The ones no one but you celebrates.

The ones that actually count.