FLEXZONE LIFE MAGAZINE Fall 2026 | Bodybuilding As A Mindset, Not A Look

We sat down with Mr. RPG on location at Fitness Mania in Riverside, California, where he trains and coaches when he’s not competing.

Before Ron ever stepped on a bodybuilding stage, he was a kid growing up in urban Detroit, a college graduate, and had completed years of military service. Of that Detroit upbringing specifically, he says, “There’s some constraints with growing up in that environment, but it also toughens you for the world. I’m thankful for it now that I’ve made it through. It’s like a rite of passage.” That mix, discipline earned early, education layered on top, shows up in the way he talks about his sport now: less about the mirror, more about the mind.

Ron didn’t set out to become a bodybuilder. He played basketball for a couple of decades and was, in his own words, “already a meathead,” training every day but with no real concept of dieting or nutrition. A broken wrist changed the trajectory. A doctor suggested weight training to help rebuild bone density, “not for aesthetics, not to be stronger,” he says. “I just didn’t want to get hurt playing basketball anymore, and it kind of just grew on its own.” He competed for years in the NPC with no roadmap to a pro card, just regional shows twice a year, trophies on his desk, then back to work. That changed when a friend, also named Ron, mentioned him to a coach named James. James quietly watched him compete without his knowledge, then spent about a year telling him he had what it took. It took Ron a year to take him up on it. Two months into working together, he placed fifth at his first national show. The next year, he turned pro.

On what people get wrong

Ask Ron about the biggest misconceptions surrounding bodybuilding, and two come up immediately: that bodybuilders are unintelligent, and that they’re self-centered. He doesn’t deny there are outliers in any space, “you’re gonna have your bad apples,” but pushes back on the broader read. “I literally view my body no different than that chair or this piece of furniture,” he says. “It’s something I’m working on so I don’t get absorbed with, from the point of ‘I want to present this to the world because it’s better than yours.’ The real story, he says, is closer to the opposite of vanity: “Most people wouldn’t believe how critical bodybuilders are, and how hard we work.”

As for the intelligence myth, he points to something less visible than the physique: isolation. “Even when you have people around you, you’re isolated, because there are walks of life you’re gonna be doing by yourself, whether it’s the diet, the training, the cardio, the posing, or maybe all of it.” Most people, he says, aren’t used to sitting with their own thoughts without reaching for a distraction. “There’s value in sitting quietly with yourself and taking inventory of your thoughts, your pros, your cons. Bodybuilding definitely forces you to do that.”

On balance, and why he doesn’t believe in it

When asked how he balances bodybuilding with the rest of his life, Ron doesn’t pause. “You don’t,” he says flatly. “You find a way to integrate it.” He points to what that can look like: still going to the movies but bringing your own chicken and rice, or having an honest conversation with grandma about why you’re not eating everything on the table. “She’ll still love you,” he says. “But you still go home for that visit. That’s what’s important.”

That same philosophy carries into how he coaches. “Coaching is actually much more fulfilling than competing,” he says. The most nervous he’s ever felt at a bodybuilding show wasn’t as a competitor, he explains, it’s sitting in the audience watching a client fight for a pro card, feeling more helpless than he ever did on stage himself. “I can’t spot you. I can’t do anything. I just gotta watch, and hope that everything we talked about manifests itself.” The athletes who succeed, he’s noticed, share one quiet trait: “Work ethic that’s extremely strong but not loud, the person who can outwork everyone in the gym but doesn’t need to let everyone know it.” What separates a coachable athlete from one who isn’t, in his experience, comes down to communication. “It’s the same as any other relationship. You gotta communicate,” he says. He points to a recent client, days out from a show, whose diet needed adjusting to manage water retention without cutting carbs. When a change he made upset her stomach, she spoke up right away, and together they found a fix. “That’s what you need in person,” he says, contrasting it with athletes who quietly push through discomfort and only mention it after the fact. “Why didn’t you say something?”

On wellness, minding your own business

Asked what wellness means to him, Ron starts with the mind. “You can’t really set out on the path of building this vessel of physical wellness without your mind being in the right place,” he says. “I’ll go a step further, I would also say it’s about support. Sometimes support isn’t always someone helping. At times, it’s also someone stepping back. They respect your journey to the point that they’re not going to interfere with it or be selfish with their own needs. And they let you know that they are there for you if you need them for anything, and they allow you to finish your journey.”

He’s also candid about a habit he sees across the fitness world, bodybuilding included: an us-versus-them mentality. “You’ll have a lot of people get into CrossFit or HYROX, and their discipline becomes their gospel, and then they try to convert everyone from what they’re already doing to do what they do.” His answer to it is simple. “A big part of wellness is being comfortable in your own skin and not getting caught up in what someone else is doing. Stop the comparison.” So, what does wellness mean to Ron, ultimately? His answer, without hesitation:

“Minding your own damn business.”