Muscle and Mayhem

Ferguson Takes No Holds Barred Pursuit of Judo Gold

On his bad days, Rhadi Ferguson surveys his drab, worn-down dorm room and marvels at what becoming an Olympian cost him.

He lives at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, 2,000 miles away from his wife in Rockville. Pain often keeps him from sleeping and forces him to endure two hours of treatment each day. He's so deep in debt that he refuses to spend money on anything other than his sport, judo.

"I've given up just about everything," said Ferguson, 29. "Some days, that's pretty devastating. But its almost not a choice. I needed this, to make the Olympics."

For Ferguson, it has never been so much an Olympic dream as an Olympic obsession. He fell in love with judo six years ago, and the sport ransacked his life. For it, Ferguson sacrificed a $70,000 job at Texas Instruments and a comfortable home with his new wife.

He underwent major knee surgery, ripped his thigh muscle off the bone, pulled his groin muscle and dislocated three fingers -- all in the past year. "He takes brutal beatings," his strength coach said, "that most men wouldn't even survive." And in return Ferguson, ranked No. 1 in the United States, hopes to win a gold medal at the Olympic Games in Athens.

"It was never my goal to be the best in the U.S.," Ferguson said. "I want to be the best in the world, and I've worked harder for that than anyone."

A three-sport star at Howard University in track, football and wrestling from 1994 to '97, Ferguson stumbled into competitive judo almost by mistake. Having dabbled in the sport during childhood, Ferguson decided to join a judo club after graduation. He overpowered his amateur opponents and earned a black belt. On a whim, he decided to compete in the prestigious N.Y. Open in 1998 and wound up finishing third.

Less than a year later, he moved to Colorado Springs and went to the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney as an alternate. "I hated watching the Olympics and not competing," Ferguson said. "So I made a vow to stay in Colorado and make it in 2004."

At the Olympic Training Center, a place where dedication seems cliche, Ferguson is revered for his work ethic. He wakes up at 5:30 to lift weights and then goes to practice for two hours. In the afternoon, he takes classes in pursuit of his third degree before going online to run his blossoming business www.trainingtowin.com.

Coaches think Ferguson might be in better shape than any other person in the world, and its easy to see why: At 5 feet 7, he weighs 225 pounds with just 5 percent body fat. He can squat 550 pounds, bench his weight 30 times and run the 40-yard dash in 4.5 seconds.

In fact, Ferguson is in better shape than many of his opponents think could be legally possible. Because of his build, the Olympic Training Center has tested him for steroids about a dozen times in the last few years, coaches said. Each time he's come up clean.

"People don't understand that he's just a genetic freak," said Carlos Santana, his strength coach. "His body works better than anyone else's in the world. It just leaves people dumbfounded."

To Paul Cotton, his Howard wrestling coach, Ferguson is "the closest thing this world will ever have to Superman." To William Moultrie, his Howard track coach, he's "the most athletic guy I've known." And to Mike Barnes, ranked No. 2 in judo in the United States, Ferguson is "flat-out scary."

At tournaments, opponents dread fighting Ferguson. They don't want to lose, sure. But more than that, they don't want to endure the physical pain he can inflict.