JUAN CARLOS SANTANA: Since I was four or five years old, my heroes were always Tarzan, Hercules, and Samson. Real men, not figures like Aquaman or Superman, who had supernatural powers. They were real people with good physiques and extraordinary physical abilities. By the ages of six and seven, I was already into boxing, wrestling, stuff like that. I came to the United States when I was almost eight from Cuba, and I went through all the little leagues available. I played just about every sport.

I went off to college to study medicine, because I always loved the human body, but ended up with engineering. It was biomedical engineering, though – I never wanted to leave anatomy behind. Then I quit college three semesters short of an engineering degree to start a band, and I toured for four years. That’s a very dark and dirty business. So I thought, “Well, let’s get into a cleaner business.” I opened up a bar. It was the first sports bar in Boca Raton.

Two and a half years in I went bankrupt, because drinking your profits is not a good business plan. At that crucial time, my son, Rio, was born. And I thought, “Man, you got to go back to school. Get a real life for this kid, if not for yourself.”

I asked myself the most important question I’ve ever asked myself: What was I doing when I was my happiest? It was always fitness. It was always sports. It was always anatomy, movement, training. So I signed up for Exercise Science here at Florida Atlantic University, and got my bachelors and masters. It didn’t take too long since I’d already had several credits from going to school the first time around.

After getting my education, [I] was working as a personal trainer [at a local gym]. About a year and a half into being there, I thought, “I can do this better.” So, I built and opened the Institute of Human Performance in 2001, which is the longest standing gym in Boca Raton. I knew it wasn’t a gym – we’ve probably published seven or eight scientific papers out of here. Studies have been done here, with the data collection done here, analysis done here. We’ve had guys like Manny Ramirez, UFC fighters train here. We run low back rehab programs, we have an expansive youth program. It’s more than a gym. People call it church. It’s got a culture.

MH: You’ve called IHP the “Mecca of Functional Training.” How did you get into that methodology?

JCS: I got on the scene in the mid ’90s, and I was one of a few guys pushing functional training [along with] Gary Gray, Vern Gambetta, Michael Clark, Paul Chek. When functional training came [about], it required an esoteric type of approach – a lot of [thinking] outside the box. Can you apply bodybuilding methods to functional training? There’s a way, and to be able to see that requires both analytical and artistic properties or qualities. There’s something in between the sport and the traditional lifting. Once I got that, that’s when I boomed.

MH: You’ve been in all sectors of the fitness industry: training, research, business ownership. Have you found that you’re the only person who looks like you in many/most of the rooms that you’ve been in over your career?

JCS: When I’m in a room, I don’t even take inventory of race. Yes, I recognise when a Hispanic person is doing something, or when a Black person is, or when a white person is. But I don’t equate [anyone’s success] to race or ethnicity.

I do take inventory of thought processes. I don’t find too many people that are like me, for better or for worse. I’m not saying that I’m special or anything like that. I just don’t find a lot of people that are analytical, artistic, or have a solid moral fiber like I try to live by.

Minorities are not lacking, from a human level, in their ability to live righteously, and therefore from inspiring and motivating [others]. If you come [from] hard times, I get it. It just means you’re gonna have to grind a little bit more.

MH: What are the keys to getting through that grind and being successful in the fitness industry?

JCS: It’s about [cultivating a] culture. [At IHP], everybody is like-minded. Trust me, we have different genders, we have different identities, we have different religions – even looking within my own staff. But we all get along.

[As a leader], you have to exemplify that culture. You can’t have a culture of people showing up if you don’t show up. How can you ask people to work hard, to follow good morals, if you don’t do that yourself? How are you going to inspire others to do that? It has to be done through the example of the leader. If the leader is authentic to himself and realizes he doesn’t want to come in and don’t want to lead the culture, then that’s fine. But hire somebody who will.

Live authenticity, too. Live a life of principle. I just try to be the best version of me, hopefully that inspires people, that motivates people. Do that, and you’ll be fine.

There’s this axiom that we live by here at IHP: pick up the piece of paper. When you’re in the bathroom, a lot of times when people pull tissue, they leave a little piece of paper on the floor, right? And most people won’t pick it up. [Most people] will walk over it. That’s a decision that you have walked over – something that needs to get done. But you think, because nobody’s watching, it’s okay [to not pick it up]. Nobody will know. It’s insignificant.

That piece of paper is not a piece of paper. That piece of paper is your life. When you walk over that piece of paper, you neglected to do the right thing – as little as it is. Small things [are] all things. Do the right thing when nobody’s looking.

Cori Ritchey, NASM-CPT is an Associate Health & Fitness Editor at Men’s Health and a certified personal trainer and group fitness instructor. You can find more of her work in HealthCentral, Livestrong, Self, and others.