George Goodhue was just 6 years old when his world shattered. He witnessed his father murder his mother in their family kitchen. Afterward, his father took him to the banks of the Detroit River, dismantled the gun, and cast it into the water.
“It was utter mind-blowing chaos,” Goodhue, now 48, recalls. “Watching someone you love literally just dissipate in front of you.”
That horrific moment was just the beginning of a traumatic childhood. After his father went to prison, Goodhue was placed with his paternal aunt and uncle. Unfortunately, the violence didn’t end there. His aunt’s alcoholism fueled daily beatings and abuse. The fear of punishment was constant, and even good behavior wasn’t enough to prevent it.
After turning 18, Goodhue took his small inheritance and declared himself independent. He enrolled in college, remarkably avoiding substance abuse—at least for a while. But the trauma lingered, and he eventually sought ways to numb the pain.
Numbing the Pain, Losing Himself
Years later, Goodhue faced another devastating loss. On March 22, 1998, his wife went into labor with their third child. The baby kicked the entire drive to the hospital. But when they arrived, her heartbeat was gone. Georgiana was stillborn.
“I still remember dressing my daughter at the funeral home,” Goodhue says.
The loss crushed him. He teetered on the brink of suicide. Even as his family grew with two more sons, his marriage remained volatile. So he turned to whatever dulled the pain—alcohol, weed, and food.
“I was high all the time,” he admits. “And then drunk at night.”
Fast food and processed meals dominated his diet. His fridge’s vegetable drawer wasn’t filled with greens—it was stocked with beer.
At 6 feet tall and 365 pounds, his body was breaking down. He could barely move without pain. Blood tests revealed prediabetes. His doctor suggested medication, but Goodhue resisted.
“Part of me was happy to die,” he confesses. “I mean, it’s gotta be better than what my life is, right?”
That belief was tested on August 3, 2018, when a gallbladder attack nearly killed him. Emergency surgery saved his life—and during his two-day hospital stay, unable to drink or get high, Goodhue had a realization.
“If I don’t do something now, I’m going to die.”
A New Beginning
Determined to turn his life around, Goodhue filed for divorce, moved into a small studio apartment, and made weight loss his goal.
Quitting alcohol alone helped the weight start to melt off. Over the next two years, he lost 186 pounds, dropping to 179. But his battle wasn’t over—his need for control had morphed into a new addiction: over-restriction.
He counted every calorie, sometimes eating barely 1,000 per day. He “dry fasted” for days at a time. He wore a sweat vest to shed extra water weight. He weighed himself obsessively, sometimes seven times a day.
His new girlfriend, Jori, saw the signs. She suggested he meet with Rob DiTursi, owner of CrossFit Rising Star.
“So, what does your day look like?” DiTursi asked.
Goodhue told him.
“OK, so you have an eating disorder,” DiTursi said matter-of-factly.
Goodhue bristled. “I don’t have an eating disorder; you’re crazy.”
“No, you do,” DiTursi replied. “And we can work on that.”
Goodhue left. He wasn’t ready to hear it. But three months later, after failing to make progress at a big-box gym, he reconsidered.
The Power of Coaching and Community
In October 2020, Goodhue stepped into CrossFit Rising Star for the first time. He was nervous.
“Then I realized there’s just a lot of other broken people like me who are trying to do the best they can,” he says.
At first, he struggled. No pull-ups. No push-ups. No box jumps.
“What’s wrong with me, Rob?” he asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” DiTursi assured him. “You just need to eat and train smart.”
Under DiTursi’s guidance, Goodhue embraced the CrossFit methodology. He started fueling his body properly. He stopped obsessing over the scale. He focused on performance-based goals, not just weight loss.
“He’s constantly coaching me,” Goodhue says. “At Rising Star, they really guide you, making sure you stay with the CrossFit curriculum.”
For the first time, Goodhue found himself in a true community—one where people lifted each other up.
“I was just drifting,” he reflects. “And then I found CrossFit. And I’m like, ‘Wait a second. This is different. People actually want you to be better.’”
Thriving, Not Just Surviving
Today, Goodhue is a different man. He can do pull-ups, push-ups, and box jumps. He’s working toward a muscle-up. He runs 5Ks—for fun. He maintains a strong, healthy 190 pounds.
But most importantly, he’s built a life he’s proud of. He and Jori married in 2021. Two of his sons now work out with him. He’s free from alcohol and drugs.
“It’s more gratifying than just looking good,” he says. “I can actually do things that other 48-year-olds—and even some 30-year-olds—can’t imagine doing.”
He credits it all to the CrossFit lifestyle: real food, effective training, quality sleep, and an unbreakable community.
“I don’t know where I’d be without CrossFit right now,” he says.
At CrossFit Rising Star, we believe fitness is more than physical. It’s about transformation—mentally, emotionally, and socially. George’s story is proof that with the right coaching, a strong community, and a commitment to change, you can reclaim your life.
If you’re ready to take that first step, we’re here to walk beside you.
