From a Prison Cell to a Barbell Club: The Story of Shaun Kopplin

The Two Shauns

To understand Shaun Kopplin, you have to realize that there are two of them. There is the Shaun of today: a successful business owner, entrepreneur, and dedicated powerlifter. And then there is the Shaun of the past: a self-described "reformed criminal and drug addict." These two identities seem worlds apart, separated by years of struggle, loss, and incarceration. The bridge between them wasn't a single event, but a conscious choice forged in the fires of grief. After his final prison release in 2009, lifting weights became a tool to help him stay out of trouble. But in 2013, following the tragic death of his brother, that simple habit was weaponized against pain, transforming into the life-altering purpose that would redefine his future.

The Kid on the Ice

Shaun Kopplin’s story begins on the ice. He fell in love with hockey at the age of seven, but it was a world where he never quite felt at home. Hockey was a sport for "well-off families," and as a "broke ass poor" kid with hand-me-down equipment, he was an easy target for mockery.

This social friction, compounded by an abusive home life where his uncles would "beat the shit out of" him, forged a fighter's mentality. He learned quickly that to survive and earn respect, he had to be better than everyone else—and be willing to prove it with his fists. This combination of superior skill and a raw, combative nature became his signature.

"not only that I was fast I could shoot I could stick handle but I could also lay a motherfucker out."

This attitude earned him a reputation as both an enforcer and a leader. But the same instincts that brought him respect in the rink would soon draw him toward the dangerous, immediate allure of life off it.

The Lure of the Streets

As a teenager, Shaun faced a powerful conflict. On one side was the long, uncertain path to a potential NHL career. On the other hand was the immediate, tangible reward of street life. For an addict drawn to short-term gratification, the choice was a constant battle, but the pull of the present was overwhelming.

"...could I potentially be in the NHL making millions of dollars? Yeah, it's potential, but if I can be out here doing what I'm doing right now and make $1,000 this week, that's $1,000 in my pocket this week."

The streets didn't just call to Shaun; they consumed him. His descent began on his 13th birthday with his first arrest for breaking. From there, it escalated to selling drugs and, eventually, a full-blown addiction to cocaine and meth. This was not a victimless lifestyle. The danger became terrifyingly real when his 15-year-old friend was shot and killed during a drug deal gone wrong over a pound of weed.

This life of fast money and constant risk inevitably led him down a path where the only destination was the loss of his freedom.

The Revolving Door

By 17, Shaun's rap sheet was long enough for the justice system to charge him as an adult for a list of offenses, including possession, battery, and delivering cocaine and methamphetamine. He was sentenced to prison.

His first major stint was in a "prison boot camp," a military-style program designed to reprogram inmates. While the physical demands were nothing for a lifelong athlete, the mental training left a lasting mark. There, he learned a skill that would one day save him: the ability to engage in "rational and criminal thinking"—to process a situation and weigh the consequences before acting on pure impulse.

After his release, however, the pull of his old life was too strong. He found a job making "$12 an hour," but the meager paycheck felt insulting compared to the fast money of his past. He quickly relapsed into a five-year spiral of drinking, dealing, and fighting.

"I was a Helen, I was probably the worst person that I ever was during that time."

This relapse led him back to the penitentiary, but this time, the price of his freedom would not be a few years—it would be a forced, year-long confrontation with the one person he could no longer escape: himself.

The Year in the Hole: A Forced Reckoning

After getting caught bringing contraband into a work-release facility, Shaun was sent to solitary confinement. For nearly a year, he was locked away with nothing but his own thoughts. The reality was stark: a "10x12 cell by yourself for a year," with no distractions, no one to talk to, and no escape from the man he had become.

Forced to confront himself, he employed three key tools to survive and ultimately transform his entire mindset.

1. Strategic Reading: He delved into books from his collection, such as Robert Greene's "48 Laws of Power" and "33 Strategies of War". These texts gave him a framework to analyze the dynamics of power and conflict he had lived through, helping him understand his past mistakes.
   
   
2. Spiritual Solace: He read the Bible frequently. In the silence of his cell, he says this is where he "found Christ." The uplifting stories provided comfort and helped him process his dire situation.
   
   
3. Mental Reframing: With no other choice, he was forced into intense self-talk. He learned to control his thoughts, actively reframing his negative reality to find gratitude and hope, knowing that to give in to depression would be to "go fucking insane."

When he was finally released in 2009, his resolve was absolute. As his mom drove him away from the prison gates, a profound realization hit him.

"I looked behind me, I was like I can't go back there, and that kind of changed me."

This internal decision was the turning point. From there, he began the humble, physical work of building a new life from the ground up, one rational choice at a time.

Powerlifting: A New Foundation

Shaun’s first steps back into the world were marked by humility. With no money for a gym membership, he walked into an Anytime Fitness and made a simple offer: he would clean the facility twice a week in exchange for access. It was a direct application of the rational thinking he'd learned in boot camp. Instead of reverting to impulse and crime, he processed his situation and chose a humbling, long-term solution. The owners agreed, an act Shaun calls his "saving grace."

For the next few years, lifting was a tool—a positive trajectory to keep him out of trouble. But in 2013, after the devastating death of his brother, it became his salvation. Grief-stricken, Shaun threw himself into training with an all-consuming passion. He put on blinders, using the physical exertion as therapy, a necessary distraction to occupy his mind so the pain wouldn't consume him.

He had traded one addiction for another, but this new one was constructive, not destructive.

This profound discovery of lifting's therapeutic power propelled him from simply working out to fully immersing himself in the competitive powerlifting community.

Living, Learning, and Passing It On

Shaun's journey into competitive powerlifting began at an unsanctioned meet, where he instantly felt he had found his people—a community of "strong and kind of fucking nutty" individuals. The exact combative nature that had earned him respect through fear on the ice now found a home among a group that embraced that intensity as a strength. His talent was immediately apparent, and he was soon recruited to train at the legendary Monster Garage Gym. He knew he needed the right environment to grow, recalling the blunt advice of his friend Brendan:

"You don't go to fucking baseball camp to learn football."

At Monster Garage, surrounded by stronger, more experienced lifters, his numbers skyrocketed. Today, Shaun leverages his entire life story—from the hockey rink and the prison cell to the lifting platform—to mentor troubled youth. His power comes from his authenticity; he can relate to their struggles because he has lived them.

His experience has also given him a unique perspective on mental health. He stresses two key insights for anyone seeking help:

1. Find a therapist you feel genuinely cares about you as a person, not just as a source of payment.
   
   
2. It is normal and necessary to keep searching if the first person isn't the right fit. Don't give up.

One Day at a Time

Shaun Kopplin's story is a powerful testament to resilience and the possibility of second chances. He transformed a life defined by crime and addiction into one of purpose, community, and strength. His core advice to anyone facing a similar struggle is profound but straightforward: "Just take it one day at a time."

The short-term gratification he once chased led only to long-term pain. By finding a positive purpose in powerlifting, he discovered the discipline to build a new foundation, one rep, one lift, and one day at a time.