‘BOXING CHALLENGED ME TO DO SOMETHING I NEVER THOUGHT I COULD’
CHEF MICHAEL ‘CHUG’ BELTRAN SHED AN ENTIRE PERSON’S WORTH OF WEIGHT TO BECOME A STRONGER VERSION OF HIMSELF
Ten hours before chef Michael Beltran, 36, begins an all-night shift at his acclaimed Miami seafood restaurant Navé, he backs his ’61 Cadillac out of the garage and then slips on a pair of boxing gloves to start his day off right. Soon, he’s striking his gloved fists into mitts held by trainer Jacob Hasbrouck as they spin on a concrete floor that’s stained with motor oil. Hasbrouck calls out punches – jab, cross, uppercut, jab, jab, jab – and when he eventually gives Beltran a one-minute break, the chef says, ‘Thank fucking god.’ The pace keeps up for an hour. And it’s just the first of three workouts Beltran will face on this day. In the afternoon, a second trainer will guide him through an hour-long core workout before he finally begins the kitchen work, an endurance event that he sees as both exhausting and energising.
Today, Beltran stands 5ft 10in and weighs 13st 13lb. But at his heaviest, just five years ago, he hit 26st. Now that he’s cut out junk food and started working out five or six days a week, his tattooed arms ripple with muscle and his shoulders stretch his hoodie. By losing more than 12st, he gained a new appreciation for how working out and stress relief are a powerful one-two combination. ‘What it really boils down to is: if you yourself are better as a human, you can lead people better,’ he says. ‘I’m a much more confident leader and have a far better understanding of the shit I can do right and wrong.’
Growing up in Miami’s Little Havana, Beltran was always the chubby kid, never saying no to his mum’s rich cooking. On the fifth day of high school, he showed up late to class holding a chocolate Chug (a brand of milkshake) and his teacher said, ‘Hey, chug-a-lug, you want to tell everyone why you’re late?’ The nickname stuck: Chug went on to play defensive tackle in his school’s American football team – a position reserved for the bigger players – and hit 20st at university.
In college, Beltran got his first job, at a bar and grill. Once he began cooking in increasingly esteemed kitchens, he adopted the hard-partying lifestyle that often accompanies restaurant work. He smoked a pack and a half a day, and he’d drown post-shift adrenaline with Jameson and Guinness, topped off with burgers or a big breakfast at dawn.
By January 2016, he had achieved the dream of every chef: opening his own restaurant, the Cuban American
fine-dining spot Ariete in Coconut Grove, Florida. But after six months, he looked out from the kitchen to see the place largely empty. He was stressed, burned out and temperamental.
One day, on his drive to work,
Beltran was about to open a new packet of cigarettes when he realised he resented just how much he craved them. He tossed the pack out the window and quit cold turkey. A few weeks later, he cut back on booze to regain more control of his life. Two months after that, he headed to a boxing gym for the first time.
He met Hasbrouck during that first Monday-morning boxing class at a Miami gym called Punch. ‘That first time working out, he’s not going to have much in the gas tank,’ the trainer remembers thinking. ‘So I had to work him out just enough to where he’ll burn calories but also come back.’
The new Beltran relies on double espressos to perk up and eats in a way anyone can copy: in the morning, he slathers a protein waffle with peanut butter. After his workout, he downs a protein shake, followed by a lunch of a simple protein, like chicken breast. If he’s doing a two-a-day workout, he’ll have protein cookies for quick energy and after dinner service ends, he’ll reward himself with a salad and another simple protein. If he’s sampling new menu items, he exercises extra hard the day before.
As he started getting healthy, ‘my confidence in myself and my food changed’, he says. By 2018, Beltran was earning rave reviews from local critics, and two years later the James Beard Foundation chose him as a semifinalist for its regional best-chef award. He’s since expanded his empire, opening Navé and a Cuban American diner he named Chug’s. During the lockdown, he decided to prioritise his health even more by jumping into the ring. Learning how to avoid a jab and, when that fails, take the punch has taught him as much as anything about surviving different obstacles in life. ‘Boxing challenged me to do something I never thought I could do. For my mental health, it’s incredibly important.’
When Beltran finally arrives at
Navé for his shift, he moves briskly around the restaurant. ‘Hey, this looks like fucking good food,’ he shouts back to the kitchen as plates head towards the crowded dining room.
‘Just like that the rest of the night.’