Question from a friend at a networking group I attend:
“Why did you leave the ambulance service to become a personal trainer?”
On the surface, it’s an odd decision.
Giving up a great pension, above-average salary (with as much overtime as I wanted, when I wanted it), and modest status to enter a highly competitive line of work with no guarantees of success isn’t something most people would do.
But do it I did.
My reasons were manifold and varied as you might expect, but there was one that trumped them all:
I felt invisible.
Yes, I know that’s a nauseating sentiment, but give me a moment to explain before you dash for your vomit bowl:
Rewind to the early summer of 2015.
I was working out of a semi-rural station near Brighton. This meant I’d get pulled into the city itself more often than not – particularly on Friday and Saturday nights.
And it was on one of those warm Saturday nights when I realised something was very wrong.
I was parked up by the seafront on standby a stone’s throw away from a few bars watching my peers (I was 24 at the time) full of life out and about having a great time, while I was stuck working five weekends out of seven with no friends, no girlfriend nor any prospect of things changing for the foreseeable future.
So I decided to do something about it.
The very next day I formulated my “exit plan” – part of which included getting my personal training certification.
The rest, as they say, is history.
(Or is it “her-story”? All these diktats from Pronoun Police are very confusing).
My point?
I could have complained about my situation to anyone who would listen, abdicating responsibility for my choices and pinning the blame on the NHS, society, God, or the Universe.
A lot of people would probably believe me. Some may have even been sympathetic, offering pleasantries and platitudes to salve my aching soul. Not that it’d do me any good, because no quantity of kind words from family, friends, and strangers on the internet would materially change my situation.
That was on me.
Same goes for you and your fitness goals.
If you’re dissatisfied with where you’re at, you’re going to remain dissatisfied until you do something about it.
More:
Inaction carries consequences. If you’re overweight and/or out of shape now, things are probably going to get worse because these things have a habit of snowballing when left unchecked.
Eventually, you’ll pass a tipping point and it’ll be too late to reverse or even halt your decline.
It’s uncomfortable to think about, but it’s the truth. And I believe I have a moral obligation to tell you how it is because very few people dare to do so in this day and age.
Anyway.
Today (9th) is the deadline to subscribe in time to receive February’s issue of The Phil Tyreman Letter.
It concerns how to build a muscular, strong, and healthy back – something every man should have, if he’s interested in being fit and capable both inside and outside the gym.
Here’s a quick summary of what you’ll get:
* The ultimate back training system for men who want to be mistaken for an upside-down pizza slice.
* Two straightforward ways to incorporate weighted vest work into your routine. (You can do one, both, or neither depending on your goals and situation).
* The three significant reasons why the back takes the inglorious crown of “second least trained muscle group”.
* Why it’s best to take a “high-frequency, low/moderate intensity” approach to training back if you want to get bigger and stronger quickly – while mitigating the risk of a serious injury. (And, of course, how to do it).
* The “choose your own adventure book” approach to picking back exercises I’ve used for many years to keep training back fun and fresh, without compromising my results.
A subscription works out at £3.29 per day.
Not a princely sum by any stretch of the imagination. Regardless, you should still read the below letter very carefully, to make sure your decision to subscribe is a properly informed one:
https://philtyreman.co.uk/information/
Thank you,
Phil Tyreman