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Arlington
Morning News Jan 11, 1998
MetroFlex Provides Unique Atmosphere to Get
In Shape
by Raymond Linex.
MetroFlex Gym stirs memories from the Rocky movies.
It's obscure, dimly lit and not very neat. Loud music
screams at patrons, most of whom exclusively pump iron.
The gym doesn't have a boxing ring, but champions train
here. Nestled in 157 Business Park off South Cooper,
MetroFlex is home to body-building professionals and
power-lifting competitors, fitness gurus and housewives.
All keep coming back because of the atmosphere and the
owner, Brian Dobson.
A body-building champion, Dobson is opposite of Burgess
Meredith, Rocky's crusty old trainer, fragile as a baby.
But Dobson gets the same spirited results.
There's an inspiration to succeed that grips you upon
first encounter.
"People say you get bit by a bug," 29 year-old
Laura Lakey says. "It's true. You just want to
see how far you can go."
For some, it's as far as a body tone. For others, it's
the national spotlight. Keeping fit becomes a state
of mind as well as body.
"If I don't work out for two or three days, I get
real crabby," says Dobson, 40.
The bug bit Dobson when he was a teenager in Detroit.
A casual stroll led him by one of those stylish , polished
gyms. Through the windows he spotted Tom Platz, a world-famous
body builder. He was huge, well-sculpted. And he drew
Dobson in.
Dobson told Platz, "I want to be like you."
Platz took Dobson under his wing, but the training came
at a gym more like MetroFlex. It was a hole in the wall,
no bigger than the tiny space allotted for dumbbell
training at MetroFlex, Dobson says. Platz could wear
his muscle shirt and grunt there. His intensity left
an impression on Dobson.
"When he came in, all the talking stopped, "says
Dobson.
At 18 years old, Dobson set out to find his niche in
life. He won a teenage body-building title and planned
on settling down in California. He intended to move
to California through Texas, spending time with a former
high school wrestling partner.
Dobson never saw the West Coast. North Texas had two
things he liked - good hunting and pretty girls. He's
been here ever since.
Ten years ago he purchased MetroFlex gym.
THE ATTITUDE
The personality of MetroFlex is raw, far removed from
the politically correct '90s. There are no chrome wonder-workout
centers or Top 40 songs. Two punching bags - one heavy
and one speed - hang in the back amid a clutter of old
workout parts. A vent cover on the south wall hangs
crooked, and the workout stations aren't perfectly aligned.
In a small corner sits a medley of training cycles and
stair steppers. They get an occasional workout. Here
the emphasis is on pumping iron.
Members are not required to sign lengthy contracts.
There is no dress code. Grunting is allowed, almost
recommended. No one will raise an eyebrow, if they can
hear above the thrashing chorus of Metallica or AC/DC.
The intended attitude melds with the will to succeed
to form one driving force.
Get pumped, get your lift, get in shape.
"I feel at home here, " says Anthony Luna,
30, who bears a dark goatee and rides a Harley. "There's
nobody doing aerobics or drinking espresso in the corner."
Luna doesn't indict other gyms. He says he has worked
out at every one in the city and all have their positives.
MetroFlex allows the hard-core to be themselves.
Mike Schmidt has been a MetroFlex member since 1987,
beginning his tenure just before Dobson took over. He
doesn't work out to compete in power lifting or body
building. He does it to stay fit.
During the summer when Dobson opens the roll up garage
doors on the north side Schmidt wears nothing more than
shorts. No one complains. He wore wind pants torn in
several places at is workout Thursday.
"If I walked in like this at other places I'd be
looked at strange," he says. Meanwhile, he moves
equipment around - another no-no at other gyms - and
gets comfortable. The music, he says, fits the personality
of the gym. It's fine with him. Anything but country,
he says.
Jeri Dennis is like most of the regulars at MetroFlex.
She hardly looks her age at 43. Her commitment to her
health keeps her young.
One of many body-building competitors on site, Dennis'
accomplishments are noted above a makeshift locker room.
There are no actual lockers, no showers and no privacy,
just a bench on which members toss their duffel bags.
Dennis' event finishes are written on the wall, another
nostalgic charm.
She makes her living as a personal trainer, competing
only occasionally. Dobson lets her use the gym. The
only requirement is Dennis and her clients must be gym
members.
Dennis could live with the music toned down a bit, but
it's not enough to steer her away. She's driven, and
this is the perfect place.
"The thing about it here is it's not a fashion
show," she says. "When I first started working
out at a family fitness center, people would say, 'why
don't you quit training if you're crying.' I came here
to get ready for my first contest and the people here
were doing the same thing I was. They didn't look at
me funny."
"It's real, " Dobson says. "The atmosphere
is the biggest selling point. I've got a guy that comes
from Azle to train. He says he's been to three other
places, but they're boring."
THE PEOPLE
Arlington police officer Ronnie Coleman is the most
notable MetroFlex member. He's 5'11" and 285 pounds
of muscle, a freak of nature. Last year he placed ninth
in the Mr. Olympia body building championships. He has
two endorsement deals with major fitness product suppliers.
Coleman actually runs second I bragging rights to girlfriend
Vicki Gates. She finished fifth at Ms. Olympia.
Together they're the most famous members of MetroFlex,
but they are hardly untouchable. Frequenters say camaraderie
is one of the gym's strongest assets.
"People here are personable," said Gates,
35. "It's a family-type atmosphere. It's more of
a workout atmosphere, but we still have fun."
Non-competitors can get help from Dobson and Coleman.
It's all about success, both individual and for the
gym.
Guy Carter and Curtis Fails are workout partners with
Coleman and Gates. Carter, 34, eyes a national bodybuilding
title this year. Fails, 6'4", 265 pounds and a
dead ringer for Magic Johnson, plans on winning this
June's Ronnie Coleman Classic.
For every Coleman, Gates, Carter and Fails, there's
a Lakey or Schmidt. In the gym, there's hardly a distinction,
save perhaps the overwhelming size of some of the competitors.
Homemakers, laborers, and high school kids work out
here. Everyone works together.
"At the level we train at, there's a lot of intensity,"
said Fails, 25. "We may slam plates down, get fired
up or maybe even curse. We take our shirts off and play
that hard-core music. At a lot of other gyms, people
might feel intimidated. It's not a problem. Everybody's
okay with it. People come up and ask Ronnie questions,
and he'll speak."
The people at MetroFlex leave their sentiments on the
wall near Dobson's cramped office quarters (a desk,
computer and CD player in the foyer between the front
door and the gym). There is a heartfelt message, almost
a challenge from Tracy Wilson, who has won various bodybuilding
events. Lakey, a Lamar graduate, has just three simple
words on the wall: "The Last Laugh."
Lakey is one of many success stories. She's lost more
than 80 pounds in less than two years at MetroFlex.
She's trimmer, stronger, and emphatic when she says,
"I will compete as a bodybuilder one day."
In December, Lakey set a state bench-press record for
her weight class at a local power-lifting meet. In eight
classes, MetroFlex lifters claimed four titles. In the
full meet segment - pro and novice - MetroFlex members
captured 10 of 18 championships and set 37 state records.
Included in that meet was Jappy Dickson, as eccentric
as his first name at 66 years old. He set four state
records and won his age group. Dickson has been at the
gym for a little less than a year now, but he's one
of its most vocal promoters. His lifting peers say he's
also the gym's toughest individual.
"People have different pain thresholds," Dobson
says. "I'll think there's no way Jappy can get
another rep in, and he'll get five or six more."
Dickson committed himself for two years at MetroFlex.
He's gung-ho, that's the only way he knows. He may stay
longer, he says. Right now, Dickson's got his eyes on
maybe getting his name on the wall somewhere by winning
a major bodybuilding competition in Florida.
"That's my single-purpose goal," he said.
He's got plenty of "family" support.
THE BOSS
Dobson isn't big on patting himself on the back. About
the only think he asks of competitors who train at his
gym is to remember where they came from.
Over the front door at MetroFlex, a sign reminds people
the gym is home to Ronnie Coleman. Coleman himself never
set out for such fame, despite lifting weights for 20
years now.
"Not by a long shot," says Coleman, 33, who
played football for legendary coach Eddie Robinson at
Grambling State. "Brian talked me into doing this."
That's Dobson's way. He says he saw something in Coleman
immediately, just knew he would be something special.
Coleman's initial incentive to workout at MetroFlex
was a free membership from Dobson.
Dobson knows he's responsible for his gym's personal
success to a degree. But he also knows individuals actually
do the sweating and make the sacrifices. It's the road
he similarly took.
"I feel anyone can do better here," Dobson
says. "I'm just always trying to encourage everybody
to do their very best."
Dobson says if you poll 100 trainers, you could get
100 different workouts. He obviously is doing something
right. MetroFlex members aren't nearly as hesitant about
heaping praise on him.
Luna and Jay Kinsman, 30, are former dancers at LeBare
night club who say they are in better shape and feel
better than they ever have. Each say Dobson's the reason.
He has constructed a workout program that fits their
busy work schedule, which doesn't include dancing anymore.
Miss a workout, and Dobson's on the phone making sure
they get back to the business of building their bodies.
"Brian's like a father to me," Luna said.
"We're hunting partners and fishing partners. When
I've got a problem, he's always there."
Dickson joined MetroFlex after meeting Dobson at a show.
Dickson asked to be trained by Dobson for a future meet.
Dobson agreed, even calling Dickson the next day and
saying, "You need to get down here and start building
some muscle mass."
Dobson's guidance has left an indelible mark on Dickson.
"Since Brian's started training me, my body's better
now than ever in my life, even high school or college,"
Dickson said. "That's the difference he's made
in me. He gives everyone more than they paid for. That's
the way he is."
While wearing several hats - owner, trainer, and disk
jockey among them - Dobson as taken what looks like
an old mini-warehouse and made it into a gold mine for
his members. He's done it with business and workout
savvy, but also with heart.
"Brian has always taken good care of his members,"
Dennis said. "He's always there to encourage and
give help when you need it the most."
That's his goal - to see someone succeed. Hard work
in a raw atmosphere is part of the plan.
"He gets behind you and pumps you up," Luna
said. "He puts a weight on the bar you've never
done before and says, 'You can do it.' You dig down
and get it, then you're ready to throw up. But you say,
"Hey, I just accomplished something."
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