Once upon a time, I lived a stone’s throw away from a cheapo 24-hour gym.
Single and with no drain on my time other than a job that would regularly afford me stretches of as many as 15 days off for a mere 16 hours of annual leave, circumstances allowed me the opportunity to train four times per day.
A typical day off from work would go as follows:
My first session would be around 0700 after breakfast (I have never enjoyed training on an empty stomach), I’d go again after coffee in town around 1100, then at 1600 (before dinner), and one last time at 2100 before heading to bed.
The results from six or so months of training like this?
Poor.
I saw little bumps in my squat and overhead strength, but nothing else.
My physique stayed the same, and I still couldn’t run a ten-minute mile on the treadmill without almost keeling over.
Altogether a terrible return on the time, sweat, and, occasionally, blood invested.
Why am I telling you this?
Simply to illustrate the point that “more” rarely equals “better” in the realm of training, even when your life is perfectly set up to facilitate it.
In fact, I look better, lift more, and run further, faster now at 34 than I did at 24 (when I was in my “four times per day” phase) – despite doing a fraction of the training.
Two days lifting, two days cardio, and a daily walk to be precise.
However.
There is an art and science to low frequency training, to the point that if you set your workouts up wrong you might as well not bother because it won’t do anything for you.
Which is why I recommend you work with me on my three month private programme “Silver Era Secrets” if you are interested in learning how to get strong and in shape using fewer, more productive workouts.
My opinion is biased, of course. So please keep that in mind as you carefully review the details on the below-linked sales page.
Lastly, I am raising the price significantly once the deadline passes (8/1 at 23:59).
So if you want in at the current price, now is the time to act:
https://philtyreman.co.uk/programme/
Thank you,
Phil Tyreman