Doug Bopst was always "on the downside" and at age 18 he also had another problem: an opioid addiction. When he was beaten and jailed in 2008 for selling marijuana, he turned things around, thanks to a cellmate who urged him to get in shape. These days he is a personal trainer with a book, The Heart of Recovery due to appear in March. This is his story.
- Age: 31
- Height: 5 & # 39; 8
- Highest Weight: 195
- Current Weight: 1
- Occupation: Personal Trainer
During high school, he gained weight.
"When I grew up, I was always on the heavier side. For a while I have called it bad genetics, but when I started high school, my self esteem was really a hit. That's when I started smoking. It was a way to mask my uncertainties about my appearance, but the more I smoked, the more weight I seemed to gain. After school, I smoke weeds and then buy burgers, hot dogs and chips. I ate like crap because I felt like crap; I really did not care what I put in my body. "
He was sent to the emergency room by a panic attack.
"I was 18 years old when I started panic attacks, I just graduated from high school and juggled two jobs: delivering pizza and selling marijuana One night I drove around with my friends and thought I had a heart attack It was not as crazy as it sounded – I was out of shape, smoking lots of weeds, and they had also bought a pack of cigarette dolls, but when I went to the emergency room, the doctors told me I had an anxiety attack . "
He got $ 200 per day of opioid habit.
" When I say, I smoke a lot of weeds, that's no exaggeration – I smoked so much weeds that it did not work for me anymore Feeling frightened, I would feel anxious and paranoid, I was so embarrassed – I could not smoke with my friends anymore, then someone offered me 5 milligrams of Percocet to numb the fear, it worked It works so well that I developed an opioid habit of $ 200 a day next year, snorting 700mg of oxycontin a day.
He was arrested for selling marijuana.
"I was arrested for a broken car headlight and people had been telling me for months that I had the problem repaired, it's like a cardinal sin: you do not drive around with broken headlights when you sell drugs, of course I was one I drove around the day when I saw a policeman running his radar, and I panicked and my highbeams pointed at him, saying one was off, instead he pulled me over to flash him, I think that was him Drogie in me, thinking this was a good idea, the officer searched my car and found a glove box with money and half a pound of marijuana, then he pulled me out of the car and handcuffed me, and I was in the cruiser and had flashbacks – all those bad decisions I made came to my mind and I always thought, "my life is over."
He was sentenced to 90 days in prison.  "In December 2008, I was charged with a crime: the intention to distribute. The judge sentenced me to five years, but he suspended everything except a 90-day prison stay. He looked at me and said, "This crime conviction will haunt you for the rest of your life. But if you can prove that you've messed up nothing, I'll take the crime out of your record. "And I thought," Whatever you say, I'm not going to live much longer anyway, so not really important. "
His cellmate became his personal trainer.
"I cried when I reported being in jail Time of my 21st birthday: About a week later, as I was still detoxifying Oxycontin, I saw my soon-to-be Cellmate doing all those push-ups and pull-ups. He was like a nature freak and we started He told me that as soon as I finished my detox, I wanted to train with him. At that time I was like whatever, mate but for some reason I picked him up on his offer one evening I did not have a good start: I could not I do not do a single push up, not even one of my knees. He said, "Dude, you're fat." I really hated that. It made me jump. Other guys worked nearby, and I remember being embarrassed. But I also motivated me to change something. I've set myself a goal to do ten push-ups and walk a mile to the end of my sentence, and with his help I've made it. He trained me every day and when I left prison I cried again – this time because I was sad that I had left. I asked my Cellmate how I could ever repay him, and he said, "Just pay it forwards."