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Concussions made me quit wrestling.
I lost my scholarship. And I lost my identity.
Things got pretty ugly for a while, but I eventually found my way back to the barbell, one of the few activities I could do without further risk of ruining my brain.
The bench press and I became good friends. Real good.
I was repping out 300+ pounds two or three times a week. I loved it. And as a nineteen-year-old full of testosterone, I wanted more.