Before There Was ZERV
You see Coach Zerv today.
You see the discipline.
You see the movement.
You see the confidence.
But that wasn't where the story began.
Before there was ZERV...
There was Edward.
Act 1 — The Beginning
Searching for Identity
I was born on February 13, 1993, at Lincoln Hospital in the Bronx.
Before I even had the chance to understand who I was becoming, life changed. I spent my early years in the Bronx, living in the projects. I don't remember much from that time because I was too young, but I know it shaped the beginning of my story. Eventually my family moved to Spanish Harlem. 103rd Street & 3rd avenue.
George Washington Houses. Another set of projects. Another environment.
Another identity to figure out. Looking back now, I sometimes think...
If I never moved... Would I be the same person today? Probably not. That move changed everything. It changed my friends. My environment. My experiences. It changed the person I eventually became.
I grew up in a single-parent household. My mother worked constantly. As a child, I didn't understand that her long hours were an expression of love - I only knew she wasn't always there. My father wasn't part of my life, and family relationships were often complicated.
As a kid, I was surrounded by challenges I wasn't old enough to understand. Those experiences taught me to observe people, ask questions, and search meaning. Looking back, they became the foundation of the mindset that would eventually become ZERV.
Man, a lot of arguments.
Disappointments.
Broken relationships.
Competition inside the family.
As a child...
You don't understand any of it. You just absorb it. Nobody asks you if you're okay. Life keeps moving. So you move with it.
Trying To Fit Into A World I Didn't Understand
Like every kid... I wanted what everyone else had.
The newest sneakers.
The coolest clothes.
The attention.
The girls.
Popularity.
I wanted to fit in. I watched other kids whose parents seemed more involved.
Kids who got everything they asked for. Kids whose lives looked easier than mine. I compared myself constantly. I didn't know it at the time...
But comparison slowly steals your identity. I wasn't trying to become myself.
I was trying to become whatever everyone else thought was cool.
As I got older...
The questions became louder.
Why wasn't my father around?
Why did my family feel broken?
Why did life feel so confusing?
Why did adults tell me what to do... but never teach me how to understand myself?
People told me...
Go to school.
Get good grades.
Behave. Stay out of trouble.
But nobody taught me...
How do you deal with fear?
How do you process disappointment?
How do you forgive?
How do you build confidence?
How do you know who you are?
Those were the questions that stayed with me.
"Before I taught people to understand themselves, I spent years trying to understand myself."
Act 2 — Finding Movement
Basketball became my escape. It became somewhere I could belong. Somewhere I could compete. Somewhere I could improve. I wasn't the best player. I wasn't the most athletic. I struggled with my weight from elementary school through middle school and into high school. The summer before freshman year...
I did something that makes me laugh now. I started drinking nothing but water. Not because I understood nutrition. Not because someone taught me.
I just thought...
"If I stop eating...
I'll lose weight."
I had no guidance.
I was just trying to change something about myself.
After basketball... I found calisthenics. Or maybe...
Calisthenics found me. People think I chose it because it looks impressive.
That's not why. I chose it because there was nowhere left to hide.
No machines.
No shortcuts.
No excuses.
Just me...
and my body.
Nobody could do a pull-up for me. Nobody could push through pain for me.
Nobody could build discipline for me. Every repetition forced me to face myself.
Every failure taught me something. Every workout became a conversation. Not with other people... With myself.
School taught me information. Movement taught me wisdom. Movement taught me patience. Movement taught me honesty. Movement taught me endurance.
Movement taught me accountability. Movement taught me consistency. Movement taught me how to keep promises to myself. Movement taught me that strength isn't built in one workout. It's built through thousands of decisions nobody else sees.
That's when I realized... Movement wasn't changing my body. It was rebuilding my mind.
People think calisthenics is about muscle. Its not.
I believe it's about honesty. Gravity doesn't care who you are. Gravity doesn't care how much money you make. Gravity doesn't care how many followers you have. Gravity simply asks...
Can you move yourself?
Can you carry yourself?
Can you lift yourself?
Those questions eventually became life questions.
Can you pick yourself back up after failure?
Can you recover?
Can you stay disciplined?
Can you keep your word?
That's what movement became for me.
"Movement wasn't changing my body. It was rebuilding my mind."
Act 3 — Why ZERV Exists
The person I am today...
Is the person I needed when I was younger. I know what it feels like to have questions nobody can answer. I know what it feels like to feel invisible. I know what it feels like to compare yourself to everyone else. I know what it feels like to wish someone would simply believe in you. That's why I coach. Not because I love fitness. Because I love people.
Movement is simply the language I use to help people discover themselves.
Working with children changed me. Working with families changed me. Working with adults changed me. It showed me something. Children don't become who we tell them to be.
They become what they consistently see. Adults are examples whether they realize it or not. Leadership isn't talking. Leadership is living. That's why I care so deeply about community. Communities build people. People build communities.
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To me...
Community isn't a neighborhood. Community is responsibility.
It's saying...
"I see you."
"I believe in you."
"I'll help you."
Community is movement. Community is conversation. Community is accountability.
Community is reminding each other that we're capable of more.
"The person I needed when I was younger is the person I try to be for others today."
Act 4 — What Success Means
Success isn't money. Success isn't followers. Success isn't recognition. Success is impact.
It's knowing someone walked away stronger because they crossed paths with you.
Maybe physically.
Maybe mentally.
Maybe emotionally.
Maybe spiritually.
If one conversation changes someone's direction...
that's success.
"Success isn't money. Success isn't recognition. Success is impact."
Act 5 — The Invitation
If you're reading this... I want you to know something.
I've been where you are. I've questioned myself. I've doubted myself.
I've compared myself. I've wanted to quit. I've felt lost.
I didn't become this person overnight. I built him.
Rep by rep. Conversation by conversation.
Failure by failure. Choice by choice. Day by day. If I can build myself...
I believe you can too.
Not because we're the same.
But because we're both human.
"I didn't become this person overnight. I built him."
I don't coach movement.
I coach people.
Movement is simply how we begin the conversation.
I don't want perfection.
I want honesty.
I don't want followers.
I want leaders.
I don't want people to depend on me.
I want them to discover themselves.
Because that's what I spent years searching for.
And the journey continues.
Still learning.
Still growing.
Still observing.
ZERV is not about becoming someone else.
It's about discovering who you already have the potential to become.
Movement is the practice.
Growth is the outcome.