At Lord’s Gym, teens find faith in fitness
The gym is hardly impressive -- dim fluorescent lights shine down on a dull gray floor, the ceiling is a haphazard mosaic of missing tiles, and stereo speakers are kept behind a huge metal grate. But none of the teens who come here to play basketball or learn hip-hop dance seem to mind. It’s theirs.
This is the Lord’s Gym -- so far. Housed at the Los Angeles Dream Center, a Christian-based mega-church facility near downtown, the gym draws a mixture of adult and teen center residents and local teens from the low-income neighborhood. Through playing basketball and taking martial arts and dance, some have dropped enormous amounts of weight and started healthy eating programs, in the process discovering motivation and discipline.
For 17-year-old Jonathan Martinez, who at one point weighed 195 pounds, the gym has been a catalyst for change. He’s now down to 155 pounds and, in March, he ran the L.A. Marathon in just over four hours with virtually no training. He’s been in the basketball league for a couple of years and credits that, in part, with his weight loss.
He joined the league “to keep myself busy, so I wouldn’t do the dumb stuff again,” he says. “I’m not that good, but I still try to go all out. It’s the adrenaline rush you get when you’re on the court -- I like that a lot.”
Martinez sits next to his friend, 14-year-old Gabriel Chambers, a talented basketball player. They talk about how Brad Reed, the community center director, puts them through demanding workouts that include squat thrusts, wall sits and jumping jacks: “I hate jumping jacks!” says Martinez, laughing. So why not give up?
“Because you know it’s good for you,” he says. “It’s kind of hard, but you don’t want to give up. I don’t like to give up.”
Such stories suggest the gym’s approach is working. “Everything is built off of relationships,” says Reed, who notes that some of the kids are overweight and out of shape. “If you even mention something about weight they’ll say, ‘Why, do you think I’m fat?’ But as long as they know you care about them, they’ll let you help them with their issues.”
The Lord’s Gym is part of a national group of nonprofit centers that began in Roseville, near Sacramento, in 1994. There are six across the country, including one in Whittier, and more on the way. Founded by Doug Bird, senior pastor of Abundant Life Fellowship, they cater to youth in mostly low-socioeconomic areas. (Bird also licenses the name to for-profit gyms to fund the nonprofit arm.)
The theory behind the gyms, according to Bird, is that “if you don’t have something for kids to do, they’re going to get into trouble.” Rules prohibit cursing and require modest dress, and people who misbehave are kicked out -- but may be welcomed back if the bad behavior changes.
Currently the Lord’s Gym at the Dream Center serves about 200 kids through basketball leagues and classes in dance and martial arts. Indoor soccer leagues will be starting soon. There is a nominal charge for classes and leagues, the money paying for things such as trophies. Those who can’t pay can volunteer at the center.
The goal is to have a full-service gym installed by fall; it would serve residents and the community, including families. Gym staff will track students’ school records, so truancy or bad grades will mean access is denied, according to Ida Somero, the center’s head of corporate relations and development. “We definitely want to build that total person,” she says.
Youth pastor Stella Reed (Brad’s wife) envisions weight and cardio equipment and a classroom in what is now an auditorium. Equipment has been donated, but funds are being sought for construction.
On a weekday afternoon about a dozen teens, boys and girls, are in the gym for a hip-hop dance class. With the Black Eyed Peas blasting from the stereo, the teacher takes them through some fairly advanced combinations that they pick up with ease. They cheer one another on, giving high-fives and hugs. As soon as class is over the gym reverts to basketball, with kids shooting hoops or playing pickup games.
“A lot of kids find exercise boring,” says dance instructor Matt Hernandez, who, at 20, is only a few years older than some of his students. He teaches five, sometimes six times a week and tutors at the center as well. “Dance is exercise, but they don’t see it as boring because they’re moving and they like the songs and they have fun.”
Cindy Galvez, 18, chugs from a bottle of water as she talks about the 30 pounds she’s lost taking dance classes since last fall. Having been diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, she found that dance was a painless way to drop the weight.
“I used to go to the gym,” she says, “but I got tired of it, and this is exciting. I got more flexible. And I feel more confident. When you’re 170, you think you can’t do anything because you’re overweight. But when you start dance class, it’s awesome. You think, ‘OK, there’s hope out there for me.’ ”
The Lord’s Gym makes no attempt at hiding its Christianity -- after all, its logo is a drawing of a pumped-up Christ doing push-ups with an enormous cross on his back. But Reed says anyone is welcome to join, regardless of his or her beliefs.
The faith aspect, adds Stella Reed, is subtle rather than overt.
“For those of us who work here,” she says, “it’s a huge part of our lives, and by building relationships with the kids I think it’s obvious to them that we want to share our love of God with them. But we do it very subtly because we believe that’s a choice they have to make.”
Brad Reed says: “There are so many kids that want nothing to do with Christ, but they come to our basketball leagues because they feel like it’s a place where they feel accepted.”
He adds, “Just the fact that they’re here on a Friday night till 10 playing basketball, even if they go to a party afterward, I’ve at least kept them off the street.”