Oʻahu roots · Dallas now
Guy
Valentino
Songs. Story. Survival.
My wound became the scaffolding.
Stories, songs, coaching, and speaking for people determined not to pass their damage forward.
Start with the Tuesday Check
Free. Ten minutes. Choose one small practice for this week.
Enter the memoirCombat Marine Veteran. Memoirist. Songwriter. Coach. Speaker. Retired escape artist. Mostly.
Side A · The Introduction
An invitation from the man behind the stories.
Transcript
Hey.
I’m Guy Valentino.
I once did 5,862 pull-ups in twenty-four hours.
Took me years to admit why.
The record was not an achievement. It was an alibi.
I fought in Ramadi. I owned a gym. I’m a father of two daughters.
And for a long time, I was a man very good at looking fine.
Then I wrote it down. All of it.
The book is called Ashes Still Sing: A Marine’s Reckoning.
The songs came out of the same fire. So did the coaching.
I’m not on the other side of this story. I’m still in it.
Look around.
Stay a while.
“It feels different to be in this body today than it did a few months ago.”Ibrahim Kamal
“He sees what you’re capable of and somehow gets you to see it too.”Nimesh Vettikkattil
The Optional Illusion.
Read the comic transcript
“Maybe I’ll skip the gym today.”
“Skipping your teeth, too?”
“That’s not optional.”
“Neither is the rest of you.”
“Less debate. More reps.”
What priority are you putting back up for a vote?
In 2015, I did a record number of pull-ups in Times Square in twenty-four hours. People asked how. Nobody asked why. Fair enough. The how was easier to count.
I grew up in Waiʻanae. I fought in Ramadi. I stood in a pulpit. I owned a gym. I broke things I meant to protect.
Those experiences became a memoir. Some became songs. The work I do now asks something practical of the story.
In coaching, we train, build a plan around an actual week, and review what happened. In a room, I tell stories that give people a way to examine their own choices. The memoir follows the people, places, and decisions behind it all.
Maybe your version is the promotion. The marathon. The business. Something you built with everything you had, while another part of your life waited.
You may come here for the story. You may want help putting a practice into your week. You may need a speaker who can get a room laughing and then give it something worth sitting with.
The doors below lead to those different parts of the work.
Start there.
Where to go
Practice Lōkahi Ola
Work with me
Ready to talk? Book a free consultation. Or read how the method works.
I write one letter on Sundays.
I am a father. I am still learning to remain. Some days the work is a song. Some days it is a barbell. Some days it is just staying in the room.