JOHN DEARAZA - MUSCLE MAN
The lack of
high-profile successful local role models is behind Indonesia’s poor showing in
international sport – but it’s not the only factor.
“Some
nations are very competitive – Indonesia isn’t,” said athlete John Dearaza
standing in the well-equipped gym where he works.
“The
government isn’t doing enough to help. Look at the lack of facilities in
Indonesia. They’re so bad professionals
have to go overseas to train.”
Which is
exactly what the champion bodybuilder has done, though the decision to move to
New Zealand from Jakarta was made by his Mom when her marriage ended. His Batak mother is Christian, a faith John
follows.
Young John
was still an elementary school pupil when he arrived in Wellington, the NZ
capital. He could speak some English as
his mother taught the subject, but he’d never encountered rugby.
This is the
rugged sport played so well by the national team, the All Blacks. They’re now world champions, heroes in the
tiny South Pacific country and admired everywhere the oval ball is kicked,
carried, hacked and thrown, often in mud.
Much the same treatment is given to the players.
“I’d played
soccer but never a contact sport,” John said. “Imagine if we did in Indonesia –
we’d be tearing ourselves apart. But I learned and soon got involved. I never expected to make the All Blacks, but
I was good as a loose forward.”
Then came
the injuries that go with rugby. First
a dislocated shoulder when he was about 13.
He recovered and got back into the game only to have the second shoulder
put out of joint four years later.
His
physiotherapist didn’t pull punches. If
the teenager didn’t want to be handicapped for life then he had to keep his
body in shape.
The painful
accidents, which brought his sporting ambitions crashing to the ground, turned
out to be “blessings” - a term he uses frequently in discussing his life. After working for a photo printing company
for four years he realized that a sedentary job would do his damaged body no
favors.
Nor would
any attempt to get back on the sporting field.
So he enrolled at Massey University for a degree in sports studies with
a major in exercise prescriptions and training.
He now
works in a large commercial gym in Lower Hutt, just outside Wellington where
his partner, Amy Wilson, also works. It
has 4,100 members – and expects to attract a further ten per cent in the next
year. Personal fitness is a growth industry.
The rows of
black and silver machines in the two-level building where men and women grimace
and grunt would make the gym look like a high-tech torture chamber if it wasn’t
for the multi-colored lycra, upbeat music and a wall-size screen. Here videos show beautiful people driving
sports cars along swish beachfronts.
‘Get a body
like this and all these goodies can be yours,’ they invite.
In other
rooms scores of lithe young men and women push and lift, roll and twist.
Outside the
carpark was full, but inside the drivers pedalled stationary bikes or strode
briskly along treadmills, heading nowhere.
Why punish
flab-free figures, which generally look perfect, trim and slim? Although the
gym is a showroom of eye-candy, a mall of muscle and mammaries, most
concentrate on self than scene. If these folk think they’re unfit then the term
needs to be reshaped.
“They’re
here to reduce weight, to repair injuries, to learn more about their bodies,”
said John. “Exercise also helps reduce stress, which is why so many arrive
after work.’
Alongside a
beefy man in the Grit Room was thumping a punchbag; his boss or a troublesome
colleague?
“I started
here as an instructor about seven years ago.
Within two years I was a manager, then a personal trainer. I have about 35 clients and my job is to
help them achieve their goals.
“This industry
is all about image. You’ve got to walk
the talk. You can’t be out of shape.”
So five
years ago he started bodybuilding and within a year had won his first title in
the NZ International Federation of Bodybuilding. It wasn’t a one-show wonder.
This year he was the open men’s champion in the 80 to 90 kilogram class.
On John’s
Facebook page you can see pictures of him in eggcup bathing shorts alongside
muscular ladies in sequin-size bikinis flexing their formidable biceps and
awesome abs.
But what
happens when time takes its inevitable toll and age erodes muscles? John, now 35, claims clients respect
experience and that he has colleagues in their 50s working as trainers.
“Most think
I’m from Tonga or Samoa because of my physique,” he said. “They call me ‘Big John’, and are surprised
to learn I’m Indonesian; we’re expected to be small.
“The people
who come here are highly motivated to change – even if they take up exercise
because they are suffering from an inferiority complex. It’s easy to let others
talk you down and develop a defeatist mentality.
“You also
have to be disciplined. (He was exactly
on time for this interview and left for other appointments precisely as
arranged.)
“Champions
are made when no-one is watching. When
I was building my body through exercise and diet I was doing this at home
alone.
“Success is related to attitude – it’s mental
as well as physical. What makes a
person legendary is about what they do, and how passionate they are.
“When I was
a child my mother used to tell me that I would make mistakes and have
failures. But whenever I fell down I
must fall forward, meaning I must pick myself up, look ahead and keep going.
“Many
athletes are selfish with their talents – but I believe they should be shared.
My job is to inspire, to help people develop their positive side. I help them
achieve their dreams. That makes this a great place to work – I love what I
do.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 9 December 2013)
##
John
Dearaza
Falling
forwards Duncan Graham / Wellington
The lack of
high-profile successful local role models is behind Indonesia’s poor showing in
international sport – but it’s not the only factor.
“Some
nations are very competitive – Indonesia isn’t,” said athlete John Dearaza
standing in the well-equipped gym where he works.
“The
government isn’t doing enough to help. Look at the lack of facilities in
Indonesia. They’re so bad professionals
have to go overseas to train.”
Which is
exactly what the champion bodybuilder has done, though the decision to move to
New Zealand from Jakarta was made by his Mom when her marriage ended. His Batak mother is Christian, a faith John
follows.
Young John
was still an elementary school pupil when he arrived in Wellington, the NZ
capital. He could speak some English as
his mother taught the subject, but he’d never encountered rugby.
This is the
rugged sport played so well by the national team, the All Blacks. They’re now world champions, heroes in the
tiny South Pacific country and admired everywhere the oval ball is kicked,
carried, hacked and thrown, often in mud.
Much the same treatment is given to the players.
“I’d played
soccer but never a contact sport,” John said. “Imagine if we did in Indonesia –
we’d be tearing ourselves apart. But I learned and soon got involved. I never expected to make the All Blacks, but
I was good as a loose forward.”
Then came
the injuries that go with rugby. First
a dislocated shoulder when he was about 13.
He recovered and got back into the game only to have the second shoulder
put out of joint four years later.
His
physiotherapist didn’t pull punches. If
the teenager didn’t want to be handicapped for life then he had to keep his
body in shape.
The painful
accidents, which brought his sporting ambitions crashing to the ground, turned
out to be “blessings” - a term he uses frequently in discussing his life. After working for a photo printing company
for four years he realized that a sedentary job would do his damaged body no
favors.
Nor would
any attempt to get back on the sporting field.
So he enrolled at Massey University for a degree in sports studies with
a major in exercise prescriptions and training.
He now
works in a large commercial gym in Lower Hutt, just outside Wellington where
his partner, Amy Wilson, also works. It
has 4,100 members – and expects to attract a further ten per cent in the next
year. Personal fitness is a growth industry.
The rows of
black and silver machines in the two-level building where men and women grimace
and grunt would make the gym look like a high-tech torture chamber if it wasn’t
for the multi-colored lycra, upbeat music and a wall-size screen. Here videos show beautiful people driving
sports cars along swish beachfronts.
‘Get a body
like this and all these goodies can be yours,’ they invite.
In other
rooms scores of lithe young men and women push and lift, roll and twist.
Outside the
carpark was full, but inside the drivers pedalled stationary bikes or strode
briskly along treadmills, heading nowhere.
Why punish
flab-free figures, which generally look perfect, trim and slim? Although the
gym is a showroom of eye-candy, a mall of muscle and mammaries, most
concentrate on self than scene. If these folk think they’re unfit then the term
needs to be reshaped.
“They’re
here to reduce weight, to repair injuries, to learn more about their bodies,”
said John. “Exercise also helps reduce stress, which is why so many arrive
after work.’
Alongside a
beefy man in the Grit Room was thumping a punchbag; his boss or a troublesome
colleague?
“I started
here as an instructor about seven years ago.
Within two years I was a manager, then a personal trainer. I have about 35 clients and my job is to
help them achieve their goals.
“This industry
is all about image. You’ve got to walk
the talk. You can’t be out of shape.”
So five
years ago he started bodybuilding and within a year had won his first title in
the NZ International Federation of Bodybuilding. It wasn’t a one-show wonder.
This year he was the open men’s champion in the 80 to 90 kilogram class.
On John’s
Facebook page you can see pictures of him in eggcup bathing shorts alongside
muscular ladies in sequin-size bikinis flexing their formidable biceps and
awesome abs.
But what
happens when time takes its inevitable toll and age erodes muscles? John, now 35, claims clients respect
experience and that he has colleagues in their 50s working as trainers.
“Most think
I’m from Tonga or Samoa because of my physique,” he said. “They call me ‘Big John’, and are surprised
to learn I’m Indonesian; we’re expected to be small.
“The people
who come here are highly motivated to change – even if they take up exercise
because they are suffering from an inferiority complex. It’s easy to let others
talk you down and develop a defeatist mentality.
“You also
have to be disciplined. (He was exactly
on time for this interview and left for other appointments precisely as
arranged.)
“Champions
are made when no-one is watching. When
I was building my body through exercise and diet I was doing this at home
alone.
“Success is related to attitude – it’s mental
as well as physical. What makes a
person legendary is about what they do, and how passionate they are.
“When I was
a child my mother used to tell me that I would make mistakes and have
failures. But whenever I fell down I
must fall forward, meaning I must pick myself up, look ahead and keep going.
“Many
athletes are selfish with their talents – but I believe they should be shared.
My job is to inspire, to help people develop their positive side. I help them
achieve their dreams. That makes this a great place to work – I love what I
do.”
##
John
Dearaza
Falling
forwards Duncan Graham / Wellington
The lack of
high-profile successful local role models is behind Indonesia’s poor showing in
international sport – but it’s not the only factor.
“Some
nations are very competitive – Indonesia isn’t,” said athlete John Dearaza
standing in the well-equipped gym where he works.
“The
government isn’t doing enough to help. Look at the lack of facilities in
Indonesia. They’re so bad professionals
have to go overseas to train.”
Which is
exactly what the champion bodybuilder has done, though the decision to move to
New Zealand from Jakarta was made by his Mom when her marriage ended. His Batak mother is Christian, a faith John
follows.
Young John
was still an elementary school pupil when he arrived in Wellington, the NZ
capital. He could speak some English as
his mother taught the subject, but he’d never encountered rugby.
This is the
rugged sport played so well by the national team, the All Blacks. They’re now world champions, heroes in the
tiny South Pacific country and admired everywhere the oval ball is kicked,
carried, hacked and thrown, often in mud.
Much the same treatment is given to the players.
“I’d played
soccer but never a contact sport,” John said. “Imagine if we did in Indonesia –
we’d be tearing ourselves apart. But I learned and soon got involved. I never expected to make the All Blacks, but
I was good as a loose forward.”
Then came
the injuries that go with rugby. First
a dislocated shoulder when he was about 13.
He recovered and got back into the game only to have the second shoulder
put out of joint four years later.
His
physiotherapist didn’t pull punches. If
the teenager didn’t want to be handicapped for life then he had to keep his
body in shape.
The painful
accidents, which brought his sporting ambitions crashing to the ground, turned
out to be “blessings” - a term he uses frequently in discussing his life. After working for a photo printing company
for four years he realized that a sedentary job would do his damaged body no
favors.
Nor would
any attempt to get back on the sporting field.
So he enrolled at Massey University for a degree in sports studies with
a major in exercise prescriptions and training.
He now
works in a large commercial gym in Lower Hutt, just outside Wellington where
his partner, Amy Wilson, also works. It
has 4,100 members – and expects to attract a further ten per cent in the next
year. Personal fitness is a growth industry.
The rows of
black and silver machines in the two-level building where men and women grimace
and grunt would make the gym look like a high-tech torture chamber if it wasn’t
for the multi-colored lycra, upbeat music and a wall-size screen. Here videos show beautiful people driving
sports cars along swish beachfronts.
‘Get a body
like this and all these goodies can be yours,’ they invite.
In other
rooms scores of lithe young men and women push and lift, roll and twist.
Outside the
carpark was full, but inside the drivers pedalled stationary bikes or strode
briskly along treadmills, heading nowhere.
Why punish
flab-free figures, which generally look perfect, trim and slim? Although the
gym is a showroom of eye-candy, a mall of muscle and mammaries, most
concentrate on self than scene. If these folk think they’re unfit then the term
needs to be reshaped.
“They’re
here to reduce weight, to repair injuries, to learn more about their bodies,”
said John. “Exercise also helps reduce stress, which is why so many arrive
after work.’
Alongside a
beefy man in the Grit Room was thumping a punchbag; his boss or a troublesome
colleague?
“I started
here as an instructor about seven years ago.
Within two years I was a manager, then a personal trainer. I have about 35 clients and my job is to
help them achieve their goals.
“This industry
is all about image. You’ve got to walk
the talk. You can’t be out of shape.”
So five
years ago he started bodybuilding and within a year had won his first title in
the NZ International Federation of Bodybuilding. It wasn’t a one-show wonder.
This year he was the open men’s champion in the 80 to 90 kilogram class.
On John’s
Facebook page you can see pictures of him in eggcup bathing shorts alongside
muscular ladies in sequin-size bikinis flexing their formidable biceps and
awesome abs.
But what
happens when time takes its inevitable toll and age erodes muscles? John, now 35, claims clients respect
experience and that he has colleagues in their 50s working as trainers.
“Most think
I’m from Tonga or Samoa because of my physique,” he said. “They call me ‘Big John’, and are surprised
to learn I’m Indonesian; we’re expected to be small.
“The people
who come here are highly motivated to change – even if they take up exercise
because they are suffering from an inferiority complex. It’s easy to let others
talk you down and develop a defeatist mentality.
“You also
have to be disciplined. (He was exactly
on time for this interview and left for other appointments precisely as
arranged.)
“Champions
are made when no-one is watching. When
I was building my body through exercise and diet I was doing this at home
alone.
“Success is related to attitude – it’s mental
as well as physical. What makes a
person legendary is about what they do, and how passionate they are.
“When I was
a child my mother used to tell me that I would make mistakes and have
failures. But whenever I fell down I
must fall forward, meaning I must pick myself up, look ahead and keep going.
“Many
athletes are selfish with their talents – but I believe they should be shared.
My job is to inspire, to help people develop their positive side. I help them
achieve their dreams. That makes this a great place to work – I love what I
do.”
##
Indonesia's expanding middle classes have cash and needs, says Duncan Graham