The hot take nobody wants to hear
Hey, I'm brand new to this career. I'm a rookie. And I love to help you prove your ability to breathe better, feel more confidence in your skin, and go deeper in faith with our Father — Christ above all.
That's the whole pitch. Read it twice. If it doesn't land, that's okay. You probably want somebody with twenty years and a wall full of plaques. Go get that. I'm rooting for you.
But if you stayed on the page, here's why being a rookie isn't a bug — it's the entire feature.
I haven't forgotten what hard feels like
Trainers who have been at this fifteen years can tell you the muscle. They can tell you the macros. They can tell you the program design. What a lot of them can't do anymore is remember what it actually felt like the first time the bar felt heavy. That memory fades. You build calluses, you build routines, you stop being the person who is afraid of the squat rack.
I'm still that person. I still remember being in high school, walking into the weight room the first time and not knowing what anything was for. I remember the embarrassment. I remember staying late. I remember the day it clicked.
That's not a credential a thirty-year coach can buy back. That's the one thing I have over them. And it's the one thing you actually need from your coach in the first ninety days — somebody who gets it at the level your body is at right now.
"They wanted to give up on me"
Here's the line I keep coming back to. Somebody wanted to give up on me. I couldn't let them. So I kept going.
That sentence shaped me more than any certification ever will. It's the reason I show up at Target for two and a half years, work on content on the side, design clothes that aren't perfect yet, and study to make this career real. It's the reason I'm writing this instead of doing literally anything easier on a Sunday afternoon.
If you're reading this and somebody wanted to give up on you too — a coach, a doctor, a parent, the version of yourself from three years ago — we're already speaking the same language.
What you actually get from a rookie
- Obsession. I am not at a stage in my career where I can phone it in. Every session matters to me because every session is the resume.
- Honesty. I am not going to pretend I know things I don't. If I haven't seen your specific situation, I will tell you, and I will go learn it before our next session.
- Modern programming. I am learning from the latest research because that's literally what's in front of me. I don't have a 2009 textbook I'm still defending.
- Faith first. This isn't a tagline. I train believing the body is a gift. We're not idolizing the mirror, we're stewarding what we were given. That shapes how I program, how I cue, how I rest you.
- A coach who needs you as much as you need him. Iron sharpens iron. I'll be learning from you. You'll be learning from me. That's the deal.
What you don't get
A coach who treats you like the 400th person he's trained this year. A guru. A guy who has stopped caring. A pitch deck. A six-week contract that locks you in. Pricing on a website (we talk about that in person, like grown people).
The break out of the shell deal
When you train with me, I call it Break Out of the Shell. I'm going to help you break away from your old self. Show you how to be more spiritually and physically. You and me, we do this until you have full confidence, plus I'll be learning from you and you'll be learning from me. Iron sharpens iron. That's the whole thing.
If that sounds like a fit, you already know what to do.
One last thing
Chase your dream. The sky is the limit. If you have God by your side, anything is possible. I'm not saying that because it sounds good on a poster. I'm saying it because I have lived the alternative — trying to do it alone — and it didn't work. Iron sharpens iron. Let's go.
— Eli