BIG JOHN FALLS FORWARD

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)

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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.”

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