About 15 years ago, Richard Sandrak, who moved from Ukraine to the United States, was called the strongest boy in the world.
Richard started to exercise seriously when he was just a child. And at the age of 8 he could bench-press with more than 30 pounds! At 11 years of age he lifted 53 pounds!
Now he’s 24 years old and it’s hard to call him a jock.
Once he was given the nickname «Little Hercules», he was constantly invited to competitions, TV-shows, commercials, magazines and even movies. That’s why Richard’s family moved to California, so the son could fully realize himself.
Training, nutrition, regime — these points were monitored by the boy’s father — a former world champion in martial arts. Very often the man was criticized for abusing his son and putting a lot of pressure on him.
And when Richard was 11 years old, he called the police when his father assaulted his mother. The man was put in jail for domestic violence.
The boy stopped communicating with his father and no longer recognized him. For a while he was still practicing, but gradually it became less and less.
At the moment Richard says: «I am very proud of my achievements as a child, I am not ashamed of them and I do not try to hide this page of my life from anyone. And he adds: «I just don’t want to live like that anymore.» «They tried to make me look like some kind of abomination of nature.»
Now Richard continues to exercise, but not as fanatically. He runs every morning and also likes skateboarding. By profession, he is a stuntman at the show «Waterworld» in Los Angeles, where he is set on fire at least five times a day, and then he has to dive into the water from a great height.
Once he was asked what he wanted to be, his answer was surprising: «A scientist, doing quantum physics… or an engineer at NASA. Why not»?
My Granddaughter Forced Me Out for Getting Married at 80 — I Couldn’t Stand the Disrespect & Gave Her a Lesson to Remember
After my granddaughter ousted me for marrying at 80, I couldn’t accept her disrespect. Together with my new husband, Harold, we crafted a bold plan to teach her an unforgettable lesson, culminating in a family-altering confrontation.
I never imagined sharing this tale, but here it is. My name is Margaret, and I celebrated my 80th birthday last spring. I resided in a small, personalized room within my granddaughter Ashley’s home, surrounded by keepsakes of my life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley would say, bursting into my room unannounced. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I’d reply, tidying up my space. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re off to the park with the kids. Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Enjoy your day.”
After she rushed off, I reflected alone. I couldn’t complain much; after all, I had sold my house to fund her college education after her parents died tragically when she was 15.
I took her in and strived to provide a good life. Now, she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children, in a home that was always bustling.
Things took a turn when I met Harold at the community center months ago. He was charming, always with a camera around his neck. Our chats soon became the highlight of my week, offering a second shot at love.
One day, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen that evening, busy with a recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I started.
She looked up, “What is it, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… he proposed.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Proposed? You mean, marriage?”
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