Greene Multisport is built around a plant based lifestyle, so compassion is deeply rooted throughout the training process.
Is the cornerstone of Greene Multisport. Wellness encompasses 3 things, physical wellness, emotional wellness, and mental wellness, Greene Multisport helps each and every client to create balance between those three areas.
To Greene Multisport having endurance does not mean that you can run 100 miles. Having endurance means that you can make it through your daily life, workouts and other challenges and still function at a high level. While still being happy and healthy.
ABOUT GREENE MULTISPORT’S TRAINING PHILOSOPHY:
Greene Multisport isn’t your run of the mill personal training company. GMS is the new way of training that stays in harmony with the earth. I am not the traditional trainer, my people have fun and make lifelong changes within their bodies and minds. You won’t be doing many bench presses or bicep curls here. GMS uses new an innovative tools along with exercise techniques that will keep you guessing and having fun. GMS also uses exercise equipment that is made from recycled materials in a sustainable and eco friendly manor.
BS in Exercise & Wellness from Arizona State University
NSCA Certified Personal Trainer
NESTA Certified Sports Nutritionist
2x Ironman Finisher + completed over 40 endurance races
Written by: Neal Greene
For years I’ve been watching my youngest (of three) sons compete in sports: BMX bike racing, skiing, baseball, basketball, soccer, football and all the backyard hopping and skipping around to climbing trees. Ben always finished dead last. During most of these competitions Ben cried furiously out of frustration because his damaged body would not allow him to actually compete to win. Junior high school was probably the worst time for Ben because the kids at that age were downright mean. Mocking and laughing made him more self-conscious than he already was.
Ben was born three months premature because his mom died of a brain aneurysm at the dinner table. She had zero brain activity by the time the ambulance got her to the hospital. Doctors worked vigorously for a short time, knowing this woman, wife, daughter, and mother was not going to live much longer. One of the doctors came to me and said, “Your wife is not going to make it. Would you like us to try and save the baby?” What a question. At that moment, I couldn’t even see straight from the shock, horror, and stress of what had just happened. I was so confused, but I agreed.
Ben was removed by Caesarean section and rushed to a neo-natal clinic one-hundred miles away. I stayed at home trying to keep my sanity while comforting my four and five year-olds. Each night, always at dinner time, the phone rang and nurses or doctors plead with me to visit Ben, who at that time, they thought probably would not make it. Most preemies of that status live only to have cerebral palsy, deafness, blindness, or retardation. Many just die.
The year before my wife passed away, we lost a son that was born full-term and died of unknown causes in the hospital, hours after birth. The new baby’s room was fully decorated with clothes in his closet and much happy anticipation of his arrival in the house. Explaining that to my sons was hell. Now, here we were again, but without Mom, and I was supposed to get excited over this new baby? “I don’t think so.
Night after night, the calls came from the hospital and staff pleaded, “Please come and bond with your son.” “Is he going to live?” I’d ask. “We don’t know yet,” they replied. Not good enough. I stayed home with my boys. Shortly after Ben’s arrival at the neo-natal clinic, the phone calls changed. Now the doctors wanted my permission to give Ben an experimental drug that could save his life. An extract from sheep, injected into Ben, would somehow speed up the development of his lungs. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, I agreed. Within twenty-four hours, the doctors were pleased with Ben’s development. Absolutely amazing! After about a week, the phone calls started again to encourage us to come and visit. His prognosis was still iffy, to say the least. The doctors felt he would survive, but were unsure what his quality of life would be.
One afternoon, I told his two brothers that we were going to visit Ben. Once at the hospital, I mustered up my strength and smilingly walked into the room where Ben was. “Oh my God!” His flesh was so thin I could see his organs. Flesh? It was just a thin layer of skin. He had no flesh. I reached down with one finger and very gently stroked his arm. Immediately, monitors started screeching throughout the room. My boys and I freaked out. Nurses came rushing in and told us we couldn’t stimulate him. “How are we supposed to ‘bond’ with him if we can’t touch him?” I asked.”Just being here is enough,” we were told. “He knows you’re here.” Ben was released from the neo-natal clinic almost three months later and was sent to our local hospital for another month where nurses referred to him as the Miracle Baby. Doctors said Ben had mild cerebral palsy. They would know what parts of his body would be affected the worst.
“If he can keep up with his peers, then he will be fine,” they said. His cerebral palsy made it rough for Ben, but he always prevailed. Working twice as hard, he succeeded. In the final analysis, Ben’s weakness was in his legs, hips and ankles. He would trip when walking up stairs and ran like a three-legged goat.
In November of 2008, Ben announced to his friends, family, and the world, “I am competing in an IRONMAN event in Tempe, Arizona.” He trained relentlessly for that year. Triathlons, marathons, whatever he could do to strengthen himself. As a full-time student at Arizona State University, Ben majored in Health and Wellness. He wanted to help kids with similar challenges. He also worked full time and bought his own equipment: bikes, wetsuits, helmets, the works. Sixteen hours and eleven minutes into the race, Ben collapsed over the finish line. He became a 2009 FORD IRONMAN FINISHER!
Ben continues his training and schooling while raising money for ENDURE TO CURE (pediatric cancer).
Ben has been told by so many supporting team and sport members to tell his story, but Ben remains low key. Well,
I’m his father, and I felt that his story needed to be told.
Ben, you are an inspiration to many and my hero. Bravo, my son.