10 Fitness Truths: A Letter to My Younger Self

At 20, I thought fitness was about crushing workouts, maxing out lifts, and getting as big as Arnold. I believed that more was always better, intensity trumped everything, and pain was simply weakness leaving the body.

Looking back now, I realize how much time I wasted chasing the wrong goals and how many injuries I could have avoided if I'd just listened to literally anyone with more than two years of training experience. But hey, at 20, I knew everything. Sound familiar?

If I could sit down with my 20-year-old self (and somehow convince him to put down the pre workout and listen), here are the 10 truths I'd share. These are lessons learned from textbooks, professional seminars and from decades of real world experience.

1. Consistency Beats Intensity Every Single Time

What 20-year-old me thought: One brutal month of training could transform my body into the Big Man on Campus.

What reality taught me: Forty years of steady effort will actually change everything. Who knew? I used to think that going all out for a week or month would somehow fast-track my results. I'd throw myself into extreme routines that would make a Navy SEAL weep, burn out spectacularly, quit in a blaze of overuse issues, then repeat the cycle months later like a fitness groundhog day.

What I didn't understand is that fitness is like compound interest, except instead of money, you're investing in not becoming a creaky old person who grunts when standing up and sitting down in a chair.

The person who walks 30 minutes every day for a year will absolutely demolish someone who does intense two-hour workouts sporadically. Your body adapts to what you do regularly, not what you do intensely once in a while.

The lesson: Show up consistently, even when you don't feel like it. Especially when your motivation is hiding under the covers with a hangover. I have found exercise to be the ultimate emotional and physical state changer.

2. Strength Is the True Fountain of Youth

What the books all said: Cardio was king, and strength training was just for meatheads and people compensating for something.

What I discovered: Muscle protects joints, maintains metabolism, and slows aging far more than any amount of jogging ever will. Don't get me wrong, a high Vo2 max is a great proxie for longevity.

At 20, I dutifully followed the conventional wisdom that cardio was the holy grail of fitness. Every magazine, every "expert," every well-meaning relative insisted that running was the answer to everything. My dad was a big runner. He used to tell me stories of how the cops would pull over and ask him "Why are your running?" That was in the 50's.

Strength training was painted as something only bodybuilders did. Turns out, every pound of muscle you maintain is like having a personal bodyguard against the gradual decline that comes with aging. Muscle tissue burns calories even while you're Netflix and chilling. It provides structural support for your joints, reducing the likelihood you'll throw out your back picking up a grocery bag. It maintains bone density, and helps protect against life threatening falls.

Most importantly, it preserves your independence and quality of life as you age. Because nothing says "golden years" like being able to get up from the toilet without assistance.

The lesson: Prioritize strength training not for how you look today, but for how you'll function when you're 80 and want to open your own pickle jars.

3. Power Fades First, Guard It Like Your Last Cookie

What 20-year-old me thought: If I could lift heavy things slowly, I was invincible.

What I learned the hard way: Jump, sprint, throw, push explosively. Even in small doses, it keeps you agile and capable of escaping awkward social situations quickly.

Strength might decline gradually over time, but power (the ability to generate force quickly) disappears faster than your motivation after New Year's. This is why elderly people struggle to catch themselves when they trip or why getting up from a chair becomes a complicated set of circus gymnastics.

Power training doesn't require Olympic lifting or plyometric torture sessions. It can be as simple as jumping onto a box (start low and be safe) doing medicine ball slams, adding explosive push-ups to your routine. Even jumping rope can help maintain power. The key is maintaining that neurological connection between your brain and fast-twitch muscle fibers before they forget how to have a conversation. If you don't use it, you will lose it.

The lesson: Include explosive movements regularly, no matter your age the ability to balance while generating force quickly can literally be a life saver.

4. Sleep Is Training, Recovery Is the Multiplier

What 20-year-old me believed: Sleep was great but I needed to get things done. I traded sleep for all sorts of things.

What science actually shows: Recovery is the multiplier. Ignore it, and every gain is as short-lived as a house fly.

I used to think sleep was secondary and that I could push through fatigue with willpower, caffeine, and sheer stupidity. Bill Clinton, famously slept only a few hours per night and he was the most powerful person in the world. I treated recovery as optional, something to do when I had time which, spoiler alert, was only on the weekends.

I've written extensively about this in my Sleep or Die: The Science of Sleep & Health article, but here's the cliff notes version: adaptation happens during rest, not during training. Your muscles grow while you sleep. Your nervous system recovers during downtime. Your hormones rebalance when you're not stressing them out with another "warrior mindset" workout. Oh, and don't forget l, sleep help recharge your most important organ, your brain.

Poor sleep doesn't just make you tired, it sabotages everything. It impairs protein synthesis, elevates cortisol, reduces testosterone, and makes you more prone to injury and the kind of poor decision making that leads to 3 AM pepperoni pizza orders.

The lesson: Treat sleep and recovery with the same respect you give training. Your gains depend on it, and so does your ability to function like a normal human being.

5. Pain Is Feedback, Not a Merit Badge

What 20-year-old me believed: "No pain, no gain" was basically the 11th commandment.

What experience taught me: Learn the difference between "working hard" and "globally wrecking your neuromuscular systems". There's good discomfort and bad discomfort, and at 20, I had about as much ability to distinguish between them as I did to understand why my parents were always so wrong about everything. The no pain, no gain dogma is an antiquated doctrine and has hurt many people in the gym.

The burn of lactic acid during a tough set? (it is not really lactic acid that burns) That's your muscles working hard and probably complaining about it. Sharp, shooting pain in your knee? That's your body using the only language it knows to scream "STOP, or you will regret it".

I spent years ignoring warning signs, pushing through joint pain, and wearing injuries like medals of honor. All it got me was a few chronic issues that took years to resolve. As I discuss in my article about effort, there's a difference between productive effort and destructive stupidity.

The lesson: Listen to your body. Muscle fatigue is normal. You don't need to kill yourself at the gym every time you go. Get out of your comfort zone and even leave a little in the tank (reps in reserve).

6. Mobility Is Freedom, Protect It Like Your Gmail Password

What 20-year-old me thought: If I could lift heavy things, mobility was just for yoga people and gymnasts.

What reality demonstrated: Mobility in the hips, shoulders, ankles etc should be guarded like Fort Knox. Once lost, everything else becomes harder than differential calculus.

Mobility isn't just about being able to touch your toes (though that would be nice). It's about maintaining the full range of motion that allows you to live without looking like a rusty robot. Soft tissue can adaptability shorten.

Can you reach overhead without your back doing an impression of a question mark? Can you '3rd world squat' (PC translation: 'Emerging Economy Squats') down to pick something up? Can you look over your shoulder while driving without your entire spine seizing up? These movements seem basic until you lose them. And once mobility is gone, everything else becomes exponentially harder. Your workouts suffer, your daily activities become elaborate workarounds, and compensation patterns create new problems faster than you can solve the old ones.

I've covered the science behind this extensively in my article The Evidence Against Stretching, but the bottom line is: movement quality trumps movement quantity every time.

The lesson: Spend time on mobility work before you need it, not after you've transformed into a unoiled robot.

7. Chasing Numbers Is a Trap Set by Your Ego

What 20-year-old me obsessed over: Personal records were the only thing that mattered. How much can you bench bro??

What wisdom taught me: Longevity comes from movement you can sustain, not PRs that require a orthopedist on speed dial.

I was completely obsessed with numbers....how much I could bench, squat, or deadlift (I reached the 1200lb club....so now what!?) Every workout was about beating my previous performance, even if it meant sacrificing form, common sense, and occasionally, my lunch. Progress is not always linear, it's undulating. This led to ego lifting, technique that would make a powerlifting coach cry, and the kind of inevitable injuries that come from treating your body like a crash test dummy.

The strongest person isn't the one who can lift the most for one glorious rep; it's the person who can still move well and pain-free after decades of training. Sometimes the smartest thing you can do is leave weight on the bar and your ego in the locker. I'm still struggling with this one. As they say in A.A. "One day at at a time."

The lesson: Train for longevity, not for your ego. Your future self will thank you when you can still tie your shoes without making a production of it.

8. Small Wins Compound Like Interest

What 20-year-old me believed: Big changes required dramatic, all-consuming actions.

What math and experience proved: 10 minutes a day is infinitely better than zero. Forever beats temporary every single time. I used to think that unless I had a full hour for the gym, I mind as well skip it until tomorrow. This all or nothing mentality left a lot of gains on the floor.

The truth is that small, consistent actions create results that would make compound interest jealous. Ten minutes of movement daily (exercise micro dosing) absolutely destroys two hours once a week. A short walk is infinitely better than no walk. Five push-ups are better than zero push-ups and considerably better than five excuses.

The lesson: Lower the bar for starting, but never for showing up consistently.

9. Fuel Matters More Than I Thought

What 20-year-old me believed: Protein was just for bodybuilders, and carbs were basically poison in food form.

What science actually says: Protein isn't just for muscle, it's protection against becoming frail. Don't fear carbs; they're fuel for your brain and muscles, not the devil in disguise.

At 20, my nutrition knowledge came from fitness magazines and outdated textbooks. And don't even get me started on my early 90's nutrition classes. I was eating 11 servings of carbohydrates per day, thanks to the outmoded USDA Food Pyramid. I experienced periods of strict dietary restriction, believing that carbohydrates would lead to significant weight gain and several protein shakes a day were essential for those aiming to build substantial muscle mass.

Protein is essential for maintaining lean muscle, especially as you age. It's not just about building bigger biceps it's about preserving the muscle that keeps you functional and independent. Carbohydrates aren't evil; they're your body's preferred fuel source for both physical and mental performance. Your brain runs on glucose, not good intentions.

The lesson: Eat to support your goals and your health. Keep it simple: lots of vegetables, fruit, healthy mix of proteins and limit the ultra processed foods.

10. Train to Live Fully

What 20-year-old me thought: Fitness was about impressing others and proving my work ethic superiority.

What maturity taught me: Enough is the goal. Train to live fully, not to prove something to people who don't actually care. Work hard, but know when to slow down and take a break.

The most profound shift in my relationship with fitness came when I stopped training to prove something and started training to enhance my life. I'm no longer trying to be the strongest person in the room or to look like a fitness model (spoiler alert: that ship has sailed, hit an iceberg, and is now a tourist attraction on the ocean floor).

Now I train so I can play with my teenage kids and keep up my busy schedule. I strength train so I can carry groceries, move furniture, and carry my wife into a room. I work on mobility so I can tie my shoes without making it sound like I'm performing an exorcism.

The lesson: Fitness should add to your life, not consume it like a hungry teenager at a buffet. Train for the life you want to live, not the person you think you need to be to impress people you don't actually like.

The Long View (Because Apparently I'm Old Enough to Have One Now)

The lesson: Take the long view. Your 20s are not the time to peak and burn out like a spectacular firework. They're the foundation years for a lifetime of health and vitality.

The habits you build now, the movement patterns you establish, and the relationship you develop with your body will echo through decades. Make choices that your future self will be grateful for, not ones that will require explaining to a physical therapist.

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. Be consistent. Be patient. Be kind to yourself.

And remember: the best workout is the one you can do consistently for the next 30 years, not the one that leaves you broken, bitter, and looking for someone to blame. Your older, wiser, and significantly less dramatic self is counting on the choices you make right now.

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