We were watching the sun set over Squaw Peak Mountain in Phoenix, Arizona. Our setting was the air-conditioned Mountain Shadows Resort, a desert retreat known for its splendor. There were four of us – Dave Molina, Dan Nuzzo, Richard Stauffer and myself.
Molina was a good friend who served as copy editor at the Phoenix Gazette, a daily newspaper where I was a staff writer. Nuzzo and Stauffer were two ex-Marines who had served together in Korea and who had formed a lifelong friendship.
Molina got the conversation going by declaring to no one in particular that he was in poor shape physically. He complained, "I drink too much, I smoke too much, and I don't exercise."
Nuzzo, who owns a gym and who is a physical fitness buff, said, "That's bad." He said his duties in the U.S. Marine Corps included being a drill instructor. He said the wind sprints, push-ups, jump-ups and other exercises contributing to keeping him in excellent physical condition.
I interjected, "The Army put me in the best physical shape of my life. I still remember those eight weeks of basic training at Ft. Ord, California. Lovely. I thought I could run 10 miles without stopping. I thought I could run through mountains."
It was Dick's turn. "Dan is so strong," he said, pointing to his friend, "that I once saw him throw a Marine over a Jeep."
Nuzzo shrugged. "He was out of line," he said. "He was bugging me."
That was when I came up with the idea. All four of us were over 60. We were interested in physical fitness. Why not form an organization and teach basic training to civilians? "We could call it basic training two," I suggested. And that was how Basic Training Two got started.
In the next couple of days I wrote a press release and sent it to all the area newspapers. My own newspaper even carried it as a story. The phone began ringing almost immediately with people who wanted to join.
They ranged in age from their early 20s to their 70s. Nuzzo and Stauffer agreed to be our drill instructors. We chose Encanto Park, a lovely park area in the heart of Phoenix, for our exercise grounds.
At our organizational meeting at Encanto Park, more than 40 people showed up. We kept the cost low for the participants ($35) and limited the training program to six weeks. Our schedule was to meet three times a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday, after work, in the same place.
From 6 to 8 p.m., we would go through a series of exercises designed by Nuzzo. The exercises would be based on the ones he and his fellow Marines went through to get into good shape – wind springs, jumping jacks, push-ups, turtle crawls and more.
If the participant was over 40, he or she would have to get clearance from a physician before they could participate. During the basic training, each participant would have to agree not to smoke or drink alcoholic beverages.
Dave moaned when we laid down that regulation. "Being without cigarettes or Coors beer will kill me," he said. Sorry, we told him. No exceptions.
One of the participants was Nicole, a 24-year-old school teacher. Another was Amos, a rancher who was in his 60s. Both he and his wife, Emily, signed up for the course.
The following Monday we had our first exercise session. Nuzzo had a great sense of humor. He decided to pick on Dave before he started the jumping jacks segment.
"Watch the way Molina does the jumping jacks," Nuzzo said. Dave got into position and began his version of jumping jacks. He looked like a demented duck. Nuzzo shook his head and even quacked like a duck.
"I don't want any of you doing jumping jacks like that," declared Nuzzo. He straightened up and said, "Here's how you do them," and went into a Marine cadence that brought smiles to
everyone's face except Molina.
We met faithfully after work. After three weeks I was beginning to feel good. My heart rate was better and I even dropped a couple of pounds. Amos and Emily said they loved the program and so did the other members of our group.
Weeks five and six passed. None of our members dropped out. When the program ended, we gave each participant a gold-edged certificate congratulating them on their great work. We even held a celebration banquet at the Mountain Shadows where it had all began.
Some of our members felt so good about themselves that they were in tears. Molina made an impromptu thank-you speech to Nuzzo and Stauffer.
"I'll be honest with all of you," he said. "When I started this program, I was so short of breath I was even afraid to cross the street because of the traffic. Now I can do it and beat the light. Thanks. I really mean it."
I said the progress in my own physical condition amazed me. I could now run up to five
miles a day without being winded. I led the others in a round of applause for our drill instructors.
Nuzzo was the final speaker and gave us the ultimate compliment. "I'm proud of all of you," he said. "Consider yourselves honorary Marines."
Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist who has worked in many parts of the United States as well as the Caribbean on newspapers and magazines. Contact him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .