At eight I asked my father if I could bench press, but he refused. “Not till you’re thirteen. Your bones gotta develop.” But I was eight and a bony eight at that. I grew slower than my peers with little to show for my weaknesses. I’ve wondered if no form of vigorous exercise existed for children…
Similar weakness might have come for Paul Comstedt had he rejected gymnastics at age four. He grew up in Airborne Gymnastics and Dance in Colorado, a gym boasting twelve-hundred athletes and twenty-five thousand square feet. (Average gyms use nine-thousand square feet). Infused with jazz, hip-hop and ballet (technique class), Paul prepared to brave the Midwest Regional Ballet later in life. They asked him to take the lead of Swan Lake this summer.
Paul managed his first girl’s gymnastics team in high school, a gig for spotting and coaching. He yearned to work with youth and considered counseling. Gymnastics facilitated mentoring relationships distinct from other crafts, requiring deep trust and time commitment from the athlete. Many gymnastics coaches train the same athlete from age four to eighteen, and if the athletes chooses to work for that coach, their relationship crests twenty years. Add coach intentionality plus perfect full-body training to the mix, and gymnasts mature faster. There’s a reason USA Gymnastics says Begin here, go anywhere. Before he was twenty, Paul knew his path.
Meanwhile Derek Hammeke, one of Paul’s partners, volunteered in children’s ministry. Derek and Paul became fast friends after meeting before a chapel announcement. Someone was searching for two tumblers. Both guys sported the garb of two foot soldiers, flipped down the main aisle, jumped onto the stage and fought another volunteer wearing a Ninja Turtle suit.
Kip Johnson, another partner, was busy instructing kids, competing nationally and taking third in tumbling at World’s. Kip’s family-style coaching nurtured staff and athletes alike, and crafted a deep friendship with Paul. Later Paul broke his back and Kip – a licensed physical therapist at Freeman – revived him.
Coaching that team landed Paul a job in his first gym. He coached two years, then moved to Joplin as Girl’s Gymnastics Director and head coach at the Flip Shop. That same journey brought him back to Colorado to work for Airborne. Between these two jobs, Paul met the inner life of gym managment and the joy of coaching multiple state champion gymnasts.
Paul never competed thanks to injuries. Like ACL surgeries for basketball junkies, gymnasts collect injuries, but rarely like Paul. Rising above the curve, he broke his back in college, broke his ankle in high school, collapsed his sternum, dislocated his hip, and buckle-fractured both arms. “I was a frustrating athlete,” Paul said. “My physical ability was high and my desire was high, but the amount of strain my body could take was… not very high. It frustrated me because I worked so hard I broke.”
During his junior year, he attended a church service:
In Chuck, he sees something and has this flash where all this information comes to him all at once. That’s what it felt like. I was sitting there not paying attention and I had this… I guess you’d call it a vision? I saw a gym and staff and kids and tons of ideas hit me all at once. Performance groups raised awareness for causes. Mentoring programs. Missions trips. All of these visions revolved around using the gym to mentor kids.
Kip drove them home as Paul sat in silence. Paul turned to Kip and said, “We should open a gym.” He gave Kip a handful of ideas and three streets later Kip said, “Yup. Let’s do it.”
Back in Colorado Paul argued with God. Paul always wanted to live overseas in China or Europe – America was “his Africa.” He begged God to move him from here, out of the Middle West. The longer he fought, the more God splintered his expectations. Every week God revealed something for the gym. Paul remembered how parents propositioned him to mentor their kids, to prod them toward maturity. Other similar memories came to mind.
“Flips for Freedom” came. Some gyms do fundraisers, but gym managers get too busy to devote chunks their time. Paul creates packets to give to other gyms, helping them do quick and easy fundraisers. When he tried this in Colorado, they raised $4,000 to combat child sex trafficking in an afternoon. It works.
Wanting to make sure he never pursued something from selfishness, Paul was shocked when God called him to an enjoyable craft. That’s the question: where does ambition intersect with the Gospel? How does that work?
Can it?
In the midst of these questions, Paul found peace. In time Kip, Paul and Derek partnered to build this gym. Derek stepped onto the Amplified scene a year and a half ago. Looking for ministry apart from video, Derek’s experience with children’s ministry dovetailed with Amplified. Coupled with his no-compromise ethical standards, Derek brings honest assessment to the team. Kip does aquatic therapy, sports medicine and outpatient therapy. Many gyms keep a physical therapist on staff, the invaluable rehab professional. That’s Kip. He loves working with kids and sponsored Young Life for years. Together these three drew up plans and started construction.
They named it Amplify Gymnastics: Gym, Dance and Cheer and bought state-of-the-art equipment to fill their space. The building was finished. The equipment was one Wednesday away. A bar set, floor bars and preschool equipment had already arrived. It was four o’clock on Sunday May 22, 2011:
At 5:17 pm, an EF5-strong tornado shattered Joplin. When it tore down East Twentieth Street, it passed 2011 Stephens Boulevard and leveled what could have been Amplify Gymnastics. As a young man starting his first business, Paul’s main concern was the equipment. Truckloads of equipment moved en route to Joplin. Unlike retail hardware, they custom-made this equipment for Amplify. Gym equipment companies seldom take returns. To make matters worse the SBA was approving a paltry 10% of tornado victims for small business loans.
But the manufacturer returned every piece of equipment. The insurance money covered their building and through collateral coverage, enabled Amplify to do their fifth-year remodel five years ahead of schedule. They doubled in square feet. The SBA normally bases approval off of the last three years of business. Amplified had zero years of business. The SBA loved Amplified’s proposal and approved a loan anyway.
With all of this and more, Amplify’s staff and facility will soon host the premier gymnastics center of the four states. They open their doors February Twenty Fifth for all young cheerleaders, fitness junkies, gymnasts and long-haired, hippie adults like me interested in parkour or free running.
It’s worth the time and trust, I suppose. The world tells us bony people we’re weak. Then the world breaks our backs, or at least tries. If we refuse to yield, it wields mother nature’s fury against us.
Despite bad breaks, there’s a great family of gymnasts waiting for us, ready to bounce back.

UPDATE: Amplify Gymnastics won the Phoenix award, presented by President Obama at the White House.
PS> If you have spent a significant amount of time on something, you might be an expert worthy of an interview. Send an email to lanceschaubert [at] gmail.com — I will take on all kinds of people from celebrity to lone wolf, filthy rich to newly bankrupt, foreign or domestic. “But Lance, what if everyone that knows me has no clue that I’ve spent so much time on this?” Email me anyways.



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