Lenroy Thompson had a problem. A major problem, really, one that might be impossible to solve.

It went beyond the fact that he'd lost his spot as the super heavyweight on the 2012 U.S. Olympic boxing team for failing to report his whereabouts to the United States Anti-Doping Agency three times in an 18-month span.

It went well beyond the fact that he'd lost his sponsors, his health care and, in many ways, his dignity.

With no other ideas about how to earn a living, he went to work in Kansas City's Ringside Gym and taught people how to box. As a personal trainer, though, he wasn't his best advertisement.

"After I got suspended, I just ballooned way up in weight," he said. "I got way up there, all the way up to about 270 pounds. And here's the thing: You can't be a fat personal trainer. Believe me, if there is anything I am certain of, it's that. You cannot be a fat personal trainer. It was the only road I could take job-wise that had some flexibility and that I at least liked a little bit.

"In my mind, at that time I was done with boxing. So this was going to be my life, training people, getting them in shape. But I was handing my card to overweight people telling them I'd get them in shape and I was as fat or fatter than most of them. They'd look at me like, 'Who's this fat dude who thinks he can tell me how to get into shape?' I wasn't exactly the body type one associates with a personal trainer."

Thompson, though, handled it, well, awesomely.

And now, 15 months later and three months after his suspension ended, he's a different man.

He's 220 pounds, once again boxing, and has racked up 13 wins in a row including several major tournaments. He's a frontrunner to be the Olympic super heavyweight representative on the U.S. team in 2016 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Most importantly to him, he changed his life in virtually every way. He became a vegan, and embraced the lifestyle so much that he changed his Twitter handle to @plantbasedboxer as a paean to the work he's done with Bill and Ami Mackey in Kansas City.

He's a friendly, exuberant 23-year-old who was courageous enough to do stand-up comedy during his suspension.

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As the suspension ended and he realized he still could win the gold medal that he'd dreamed would be placed around his neck as the Star Spangled Banner blared in London, he wanted to rid himself of all vestiges of his former life.

He was not allowed to wear a nickname on his shorts in amateur boxing competition, so he decided to change his name so that he could.

And thus, Cam F. Awesome was born.

"During that year I had to take off, that guy who was [suspended] rotted away slowly and died," he said. "And out of the cocoon came awesomeness. ... You can figure out the rest."

He went by the first name Cam, even when he was Lenroy Thompson. But, he was asked, what does the F stand for?

If you thought, Cam [Bleeping] Awesome, you're not alone. And you wouldn't be wrong. But, you wouldn't be right, exactly.

"The F is whatever you want it to be in your imagination," Awesome said. "Fun. That's good. Family. Another good thought. Friend? Yep. Frog Eyes? Ok, too. But that other one you guessed? [Bleeping]? Yeah, that's good, too. I like how that sounds: Cam [Bleeping] Awesome."

Awesome's life has been nothing but awesome since he returned to the game. His coach, John Brown, remained with him throughout his suspension and was impressed with the way Awesome handled the adversity.

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