Tag: Functional fitness

  • An Archival Look of Chaotic Life Strong: 280+ Weeks of Experimenting, Adapting, and Improvised Warm-Up Flow

    Before Continuing

    In my entirety of writing about my Chaotic Life Strong personal training philosophy and regimen, especially in my More Than Muscle Articles, I want to make sure that I keep some truths at the forefront of this video demonstration before we continue:

    1. I am not a certified personal trainer; I don’t have credentials, a clientele, nor a degree in kinesiology, nutrition, or sports science.
    2. What is shown here has been roughly the culmination of 280+ weeks of trial and error and learning from multiple sources to have created my own hybrid process.
    3. How I train is rarely, if at all, documented; unless I’m performing any new exercises and need a visual cue to keep myself accountable. Else, those documented videos aren’t always kept for long.
    4. Everything shown is personal; it works for me, it works with my constraints: my energy, mood, and if I’m up to training the day of. 

    Nothing here is prescriptive, it’s not comprehensive, but if something catches your eye, you want to give it a try, or you don’t want to—it is fine either way.

    The work exists regardless. 

    I just wanted to share my process, why I chose to develop it the way it became now, and not let my hard won insights exist only in my head.

    How I Warm Up

    How I Train in My Little Studio Set Up

    Why I Do This Warm-Up

    My warm-up is diagnostic, not just preparatory. It ensures:

    • My body is ready for multi-planar movement and weighted training.

    • I’m not feeling tension, soreness, or discomfort in sensitive areas.

    • I protect areas prone to injury: shoulders, knees, lower back.

    Common Warm-Up Movements I Use

    • Cat-Cow, Upward & Downward Dog

    • Cossack Squats & Middle Split Progressions

    • Body Twists, Spinal Rotations, Arm Circles

    • Foam Rolling & Mobility Flows, Band Work

    • Animal Flows: Monkey, Crab, Tiger Walks

    These movements are staples for me. I modify or skip exercises depending on my energy, mood, and any lingering aches.

    Especially, in areas where I’ve been injured:

    • Shoulder.
    • Knees.
    • Lower back. 

    These are sensitive areas for me due to being inattentive, from compounding overuse injuries at my jobs, and persistent bad habits at home. 

    I took advice from my dad and previous bosses seriously: engage your core to prevent overcompensation.

    Applying this consistently has reduced chronic pain and made me more aware of how my body moves.

    This warm-up reflects how I train overall: adaptable, responsive, and built around listening rather than forcing.

    What This Is—and Isn’t

    This is my main example of what kind of fitness I train and how it has helped me prepare for longevity instead of chasing goals I don’t personally care for. 

    I’m not making this into a part of many videos; I’m not gatekeeping my training, I’m not hiding “my secrets” behind a paywall, I’m merely sharing something I’ve developed over 5 years because I’ve found something that works for me and my imperfect conditions.

    Just like my Chaotic Life Strong Exercise Flows PDFs:, you can try out what I’ve shared, take what you find useful, adapt it to your situation, or ignore this entirely. 

    How you choose to fitness is up to you, but I’d rather chase being able to bear hug and lift people in my 80’s than live in a broken body at 30.

    Explore The Archives

    Gifts From The Archives

    If you haven’t checked them out already, below are my PDF manifestos:

  • More Than Muscle: My 274-Week Ongoing Training Experiment to Survive Real Life (Not Gym Life)


    Author’s Note: This article isn’t about getting ripped. It’s about how I learned to survive life—physically, emotionally, and mentally—when the rest of the world is built for people with perfect schedules. Here is a space for those where life, for them, was anything but perfect.


    Why No Existing Program Fit Me — So I Built One That Did

    I’ve spent 274 weeks—yes, over five years—trying to get strong enough to handle real life, not gym life. During that time, I’ve tested almost every training program the internet and library shelves had to offer.

    The numbers aren’t perfect.

    The timeline isn’t perfect.

    But the training never stopped.

    Over 274 weeks, I’ve trained like:

    • a grappler
    • a calisthenics athlete
    • a strongman
    • a warehouse worker
    • a military-inspired clod
    • an MMA-inspired phony
    • and sometimes, a sleep-deprived goblin running on spite.

    I’ve been tracking 274 weeks of training—on paper, at least. In reality, I’ve been at this since I was 20 or 21, long enough that my original logbook disappeared at some point.

    I’ve tried working out for more than an hour for 5-6 days a week. But when I got overwhelmed or too tired to train, I kept calling myself a weak bitch for not keeping up with any program standards.

    The thing I learned early on was simple:

    I HATED EVERYTHING I WAS DOING.

    • I couldn’t afford a gym membership, so I made do with the old iron weights my dad had.
    • I couldn’t buy separate groceries from the family budget, so I had to make dinner for everyone else.
    • I struggle to this day to get more than two hours of restful sleep at a stretch.
    • My work schedule varies day by day.
    • I had pre-existing and new injuries from working a physically demanding job.
    • I was burning myself out trying to keep up with personal obligations and trying to get “gym strong.”

    My training fell apart constantly. I got hurt. I burned out. I forced myself to follow programs designed for people who slept eight hours, ate perfect meals, and had stable routines.

    I thought I was the problem.

    I thought I was weak, inconsistent, undisciplined.

    Most programs don’t fail because people are weak—they fail because they don’t account for real life.

    In the end, I didn’t build a training program—I built a survival system instead.

    I didn’t earn my expertise from certifications. I earned it from trial, error, burnout, injuries, confusion, experimentation, and refusing to quit.

    So, if you’ve ever tried a program that promised results but didn’t fit your life…

    If you struggle to train around a chaotic schedule, low sleep, or a physically demanding job…

    Or if you want strength that matters in the real world, not just in front of a mirror…

    Then this is for you.

    Here’s Why I Train to Be Chaotic Life Strong

    In my previous More Than Muscle Articles, I’ve mentioned that I decided to pursue fitness my way because following standard gym programs—bench press, deadlifts, and squats—made me painfully aware of how weak I really was.

    I struggled to push my cart of groceries up a slight incline without getting winded.

    That embarrassed the hell out of me because I thought I could handle something so mundane because my big 3 lifts numbers were decent.

    Nope. Domestic chores kicked my ass.

    And I myself—if I couldn’t even do simple chores, could I really consider myself strong and healthy?

    So, I started pursuing fitness from a different perspective—chaotic, unbalanced, and never ideal, but I tried to work with my situation, instead of punishing myself for being an outlier.

    How I Train to Be Chaotic Life Strong

    Before I continue, here’s what my training philosophy and program does NOT involve:

    • Aesthetic-focused training
    • Strict programming
    • Discipline worship
    • Gym culture
    • Perfect sleep, meals, or schedules
    • Hustle porn—celebrating constant grind as if exhaustion were a badge of honor

    I train to:

    • Do my chores without struggle
    • Bear hug and lift people when I get overly excited
    • Push, pull, and carry awkward freight for work weighing between 25 to over 5,000+ pounds
    • Wake up with less stiffness
    • Explore BJJ, calisthenics, and other things I enjoy

    I’ve been training to be chaotic life strong.

    Chaotic Life Strong means building the kind of strength that survives real schedules, real stress, real fatigue, and real chaos.

    Strength that doesn’t rely on perfect conditions.

    It’s strength you can actually use.


    Author’s Note: My Conscious Trade-Offs:

    I’ve accepted that, as I was developing my personal training regimen and philosophy, I had to accept some trade-offs.

    My life situation doesn’t focus on 1 rep maxes, pressing or pushing or squatting a heavily loaded bar, or isolated movements. I chose to look weak on paper to conventional gym metrics because I focused more on what I wanted to achieve: adaptability, mobility, chaos induced functional training instead.

    The main thing is, if I wanted to include deadlifts, bench presses, and other exercises and equipment, I have to make sure:

    • I can afford it.
    • It makes sense for me.
    • And it’s what I want to do.

    Otherwise, on the back burner it goes.

    Same thing with getting professional help; if I can afford a coach to help me fine tune things or I can get certified myself instead down the line, then I have the option to do it later on.


    My Survival Program to Be Chaotic Life Strong

    The first thing I had to change was my attitude toward training.

    I had spent years punishing myself for not being “good enough,” because someone on the internet said so, and I needed to be engaged with wanting to get stronger. Not allergically averse to my physical goals.

    Here’s how I program myself to stay consistent:

    • Minimum viable training: 2 days is enough
    • Modular sessions: mix and match movements
    • Energy-based autoregulation: go until you feel a red flag
    • Movement quality over quantity
    • Life-first programming: obligations never go away
    • Play: ambidextrous writing, juggling, crawling, swinging sticks like a Berserker indoors

    By being flexible and lenient with myself, I’ve achieved more than I ever did in my early 20s:

    • My joints aren’t protesting like the 4th of July
    • I can sit down and get off the floor without using my hands
    • I can move fluidly and explosively, almost like Goku from Dragon Ball Z
    • I can defend against my BJJ partner’s attacks so tightly that they waste energy trying to escape my grip

    Nutrition for Daily Function—Not Aesthetics

    Nutrition is simple: I eat what I’ll actually eat.

    • Broccoli? Yes.
    • Edamame? Of course.
    • Thin meats? Absolutely.
    • Chocolate? Always yes!

    I’m not trying to lose weight or bulk for aesthetics.

    I eat to function and enjoy treats without guilt.

    Sometimes I fast because of low appetite.

    Sometimes I drink a chocolate protein shake or a Chobani smoothie because of said low appetite.

    Sometimes, I get home late from work and I’ll just eat a bowl of cereal before bed.

    Flexibility and listening to my body matter more than rigid rules. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been able to keep going through more than 5 years of this ongoing experiment.

    Sample Flows for Readers

    Below, I’ve included sample flows that readers can try if they want:

    • Mobility Flow: stretches, rolls, and controlled bodyweight movements
    • Strength Flow: kettlebell or sandbag carries, bodyweight push/pull, core activation
    • Chaotic Load Handling: awkward-object lifts, rotations, and full-body coordination

    Try them as written or adapt to your situation. Each flow is designed to teach movement quality, strength, and real-world adaptability without rigid programming or perfect conditions.

    Reflect Here, Fellow Archivists

    As we get closer to the end of this article, have you considered a few things for yourself?

    • “When was the last time you tried a program that didn’t fit your life?”
    • “How did you adjust to pursue your own fitness goals within or without a standard program for your life constraints?”
    • “Have you encountered something that made you think that being gym strong wasn’t enough for life?”
    • “If so, how did it change your perspective on what being strong means to you?”

    In Conclusion

    I didn’t want to push five times my body weight and struggle with groceries.

    I didn’t want to stand on my hands if I struggled to stand on my own two feet.

    I didn’t want to give up things I liked because someone on the internet said I should.

    I wanted to explore what my body could do while I still had the strength.

    I wanted to take life head-on and say:

    “This sucks, but life’s gonna have to push back harder to get me to back down.”

    If You Made It to the End

    I appreciate your dedication to finishing things to the end, Fellow Archivists. This article is a brief share of my five-year journey of trial, error, and experimentation.

    It’s a living system, always evolving as my life changes.

    Feel free to like, subscribe, comment, or quietly reflect on your own journey.

    Try the sample flows. If they work, great. If they don’t, hey—that’s still valuable feedback.

    Thank you for spending your time here. And I’ll see you all later in the archives.

    Gifts From the Archives

    Explore The Archives

  • Active Rest Days and Why Adding Them to Your Vacations Could Save You Some Pain

    Wherever You Are Visiting, Don’t Forget That Daily Pains Accrue Regardless

    Vacations feel relaxing in theory — but they’re secretly endurance events. That’s why building active rest into them is essential.

    I’ve been doing a lot of walking — so much walking that my ankles feel swollen and my hips are protesting in pain. Constantly standing from taking multiple subways and trains in one day just to get to a single destination. And all of this happening while I’m “on vacation.”

    I’m very fortunate that my busted knees decided not to fold on themselves from all the walking, climbing, and navigating the sea of people that either flow or crash through everyone else’s way. All while I’m trying not to get separated from my family or get lost.

    Despite the cold — previous days were around 19°C, which my sad American brain cannot convert to Fahrenheit on the fly — the usual twisted pain that creeps into my knees gave me a temporary reprieve.

    That’s something people don’t talk about much when it comes to vacation.

    You expect to leave home, go somewhere new, and do nothing but relax, right?

    You’re going to hate yourself for how wrong that expectation is.

    Why? Because your body is still active. It doesn’t know you’re on “vacation.” All it knows is:

    • you’re walking through stores and crowded streets
    • you’re running to catch trains and hoping they’re the right ones
    • you’re carrying snacks, water, coats, and souvenirs in your backpack
    • you’re navigating someone else’s itinerary
    • you’re underfed, underhydrated, and running on overstimulation

    Your pains don’t go away.

    Vacation or no vacation.

    In fact, your existing pain gets worse when you weren’t the one who built the itinerary. Forget about taking breaks. Forget about putting your feet up. Forget about sitting down for more than five minutes. You’re on borrowed time and someone else’s clock, and your body will make sure you know it.

    Vacationing, am I right?

    Introducing the Merciful Active Rest Days

    Most of us pack our schedule like we’re trying to speedrun a country. But pain still accrues, and your body still keeps score. That’s where active rest days come in.

    Active rest days are your off days from the gym — except you’re still moving, just less intensely. You’re not pushing your usual weights, you’re not chasing PRs, you’re not doing crazy calisthenics. You’re simply being a slower, softer version of your usual chaotic self.

    Each morning while I was on vacation, I woke up as early as I could and, if space allowed, I took 10–30 minutes to myself to engage my body:

    • Cat-cows
    • Bird-dogs
    • Walking lunges
    • Shoulder, forearm, wrist, hip, knee, and ankle circles
    • Cossack squats
    • Regular squats
    • Split practice
    • Butterfly stretches
    • Any stretching I could do with limited time and space
    • And contrast showers — from hot, to proper cold (not cool), then back

    After warming up and stretching (10–15 minutes), I did two sets of push-ups:

    My baseline of 10 reps for the first set, and a smaller second set starting at 5 and slowly increasing each day.

    I recorded everything in the Notes app on my phone, and I’ll transfer it to my workout book when I get home.

    This technically counted toward my two-day training schedule, but realistically, I mostly managed stretching, mobility, and a little strengthening with my time constraints.

    Did Any of This Help?

    I want to be very clear: my rushed routine of warming up, doing push-ups, stretching, and taking contrast showers did help.

    Until it didn’t.

    Active rest is merciful — not magical. It doesn’t erase pain. It teaches you how to manage it when you don’t have your usual tools.

    For me, those tools include:

    • A foam roller
    • A decent amount of floor space
    • And, ultimately, TIME

    On vacation, you don’t get any of that.

    So instead of dragging myself through pain, I moved with intention — because that was all I could control.

    You get creative enough to manage your pains. At least until you get back home and return to your normal pain-management rhythms.

    Next Time I’ll Be Better Prepared

    I underestimated what was going to happen on this trip, and I paid the price over four short (but painfully long) days.

    Next time, if I want to keep my training and pain goals in mind, I’m bringing one set of exercise clothes and using the hotel gym or spa facilities. Especially if they’re open 24/7 and there’s a washer and dryer. Clean clothes are as important to your health as sleep, food, and training.

    Doing this might mean deviating from someone else’s itinerary — but breaking yourself on vacation and arguing with your travel group is completely counterproductive.

    For the Fellow Archivists Beaten Up by Vacationing Too

    If anything here resonated with you, feel free to:

    • like
    • subscribe
    • share
    • or quietly reflect on your own vacation-war stories

    If you’d like to share your thoughts, leave a comment below or send them anonymously to:

    whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com

    Thank you for making it to the end of this post. Below are other articles you can explore in the Archives to satisfy your curiosity.

    I’ll see you in the Archives later.

    Explore the Archive

  • My Quest to Pre-GMB Certification Bio: Learning to Be Chaotic Life Strong, Not Just Gym Strong

    Author’s Note:

    For the record, GMB stands for Gold Medal Bodies — a movement-based training organization that focuses on building strength, mobility, and control that actually works in real life, not just inside a gym.

    Before I pursue their Level 1 Coach certification (because yes, I’m seriously considering it and want to level up my repertoire), I wanted to document where I’m starting from, what I’ve learned the messy way, and why this path even makes sense for someone like me.

    This is less a résumé and more a field report from the chaos trenches.

    Learning to Be Chaotic Life Strong, Not Athlete Strong

    I’ve had a lot of time to play with different training programs: boxing-inspired circuits, football conditioning, wrestling drills, bro-splits, calisthenics routines, you name it. My logic was simple:

    If I trained like an athlete, maybe I’d become stronger, faster, and harder to mess with — even as a regular person.

    And to be fair, I did get stronger.

    But… then real life slapped me in the face.

    I’d get winded pushing a grocery cart up a slight incline.

    I’d struggle carrying my groceries out of the cart, into the car, out of the car, up the steps, and into the house.

    I’d finish a “monster workout” only to be absolutely useless at my actual job.

    It was embarrassing, despite being the only one who knew this.

    I was young, healthy, training hard…

    And I couldn’t perform basic human tasks without feeling like I was about to collapse.

    What was wrong with me?

    Turns out nothing was “wrong.” I just discovered that the way I was training — and the way most people train — doesn’t transfer well to real life.

    That realization hit me like a medicine ball to the ribs.

    Suddenly, I had a swarm of uncomfortable questions:

    • How does bench-pressing more than my bodyweight help me haul trash bags or move boxes at work?

    • How does eating “clean” 24/7 help me reach my goals if I’m miserable, under-fueled, and ready to bite someone?

    • Why is my “gym strength” not showing up when I actually need it?

    It was distressing. Everything I “knew” about fitness felt flimsy.

    Because what if I wasn’t training for:

    • the NFL

    • the UFC

    • the Olympics

    • the military

    • or any other institution that requires an identity and lifestyle I don’t want?

    What if all I wanted was to be capable, mobile, adaptable, and strong in the weird, unpredictable ways my life expects from me?

    What then?

    That question — what then? — kickstarted five years of experimentation, logging, testing, failing, recovering, and trying again.

    Some days I trained intensely.

    Some days I did active rest.

    Some days I said “fuck this” and didn’t train for weeks.

    All of it went into the log.

    Because all of it was data.

    How Shows Like Physical 100 Broke My Brain (in a Good Way)

    A huge part of why I’m pursuing this style of training came from watching shows like:

    • Physical 100 (Korea)

    • Physical: Asia

    • Siren: Survive the Island

    They exposed how incomplete athletic training can be depending on the demands.

    CrossFitters struggled with grip tasks.

    Bodybuilders gassed out.

    Martial artists couldn’t always apply leverage under unusual constraints.

    People who looked like “monsters” on paper were suddenly ordinary.

    And some people — including a few women — surprised me by pushing back against bigger, stronger opponents.

    It was fascinating.

    It also validated the exact questions I’d been asking myself.

    Because even with all my job demands (heavy lifting, pushing thousands of pounds of product, long hours on my feet) I don’t think I would survive half of Physical 100’s challenges.

    But I want to.

    Not to win.

    Just to see what I’m capable of.

    Just to show up and make it difficult for someone to run me over.

    GMB’s approach — strength + mobility + control + adaptability — clicked perfectly with that goal.

    Why I’m Writing This as a Pre-Certification Bio

    This isn’t a “look how fit I am” intro.

    This is:

    • the starting line

    • the messy context

    • the real-life background that traditional fitness ignores

    • and the mindset behind why I want to be a coach in the first place

    I’m not trying to become an athlete.

    I’m trying to become chaotic life strong — resilient, adaptable, useful, capable in unpredictable environments, and confident in how my body moves through the world.

    And confidently push a grocery cart up the smallest of inclines too.

    GMB feels like the right framework to refine what I already know and fill in the gaps I’ve collected through years of experimenting alone.

    So this is my pre-GMB bio — where I’m coming from, what I’ve realized, and what I’m heading toward next.

    Reflection Questions for Your Own Training Journey

    Before you bounce, take a minute to check in with yourself:

    • Are you training for the life you actually live, or the life you think you should be living?

    • Do your workouts make your real-life tasks easier — or just make you tired on top of tired?

    • Where are you strong on paper but weak in practice?

    • What tasks in your daily or job life expose the gaps in your fitness?

    • What part of you wants to become “chaotic life strong” — and what’s stopping you from exploring it?

    • If you took away aesthetic goals and athlete fantasies, what kind of movement would you genuinely enjoy?

    • What skill, sport, or discipline secretly interests you but you’ve never allowed yourself to try?

    • Are you tracking the things that actually matter to you — or the things you think you’re supposed to measure?

    • What would you want your body to be capable of in the next year, if “looking fit” wasn’t even on the table?

    Answer them out loud, in a journal, or while staring at the ceiling at 2am — whatever fits your chaos.

    Call to Action

    If you vibed with this, learned something, or felt unusually called out in a helpful way, you can:

    • Like this post

    • Share it with someone who trains but hates the gym-robot approach

    • Subscribe to The Stratagems Archive

    • Or honestly?

    Just sit here quietly and soak in the fact that you made it all the way to the end.

    Either way, thanks for spending time in the Archives — it means more than you think.

    Now go train for the life you actually live, not the fantasy highlight reel everyone thinks they need.

    Check out My More Than Muscle Articles

    Other Pages That Might Interest You

  • More Than Muscle: What Real Strength Looks Like to Me.

    Strength isn’t just about bulging muscles or how much you can lift. It’s not about fitting into some Instagram-perfect mold or checking off a list of “womanly” or “manly” boxes. For me, real strength is something deeper — the kind that makes you stand tall when the world expects you to crumble. It’s the fire that keeps you pushing through pain, doubt, and all the noise telling you you’re not enough. This is how I’d define strength. Not just the physical, but the grit, rage, and pride that build me — every damn day.

    Not Your Idea of Strength: What I’m Really Fighting For.

    I’m not here to fit into anyone’s idea of “strong.” I’m here to be my kind of strong.

    Not just the physical kind — though yeah, I want that too. I want to feel so solid in my own skin that I forget what low self-esteem or doubt even feel like. I want my presence to scream, “I’m here, I can handle my shit”, instead of, “look at that weak, stupid bitch”.

    Growing up, I never asked to be born a girl. I was taught to not cause waves and the things I like(d) were mostly masculine — in fact, I was often told to be quiet, to hold my tongue, to not start things I couldn’t finish. I was expected to fit into a box I never chose.

    But I Refused to Stay Small

    I wanted strength that went beyond appearances — strength to stand tall when everything inside me wanted to collapse. Strength to keep going when my body ached and my mind was exhausted. Strength to say, “fuck this bullshit”, that’s been handed to me just because of my gender or my past.

    I’m proud of the scars on my arms, the callouses on my hands, the pure stubbornness that keeps me fighting even when it’s easier to give up. I’m proud of the fact that I’ve carved out my own space in a world that often tries to minimize people like me.

    This kind of strength isn’t pretty. It’s raw, messy, and sometimes it’s downright ugly. But it’s real. And it’s mine.

    If you’re tired of being underestimated, tired of being the “weak link” in someone else’s story, maybe you’ll find something here too. Maybe it’s time to stop shrinking yourself to fit what others expect and start owning your space, your voice, your story.

    I’m not perfect. I’m angry, messy, and still figuring things out. But I’m here. I’m fighting. And I’m not going anywhere.

    Maybe that’s where real strength begins.

    So here’s to owning your strength, whatever that looks like for you. Whether you’re wrestling with life, pain, or people who underestimate you — don’t let them define your power. Be proud of every scar, every hard-earned callous, and every time you choose to stand when you could have fallen. Because real strength? It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being unbreakable on your own terms. What does strength look like to you?

    If you’ve ever felt underestimated, misunderstood, or overlooked—this one’s for you. How do you reclaim your power?

    If This Resonated…

    Subscribe to the blog — I write about survival, dreaming, burnout, and why we keep going. Leave a comment — even just one word. I’d love to know what this stirred in you. Share this post — maybe someone else needs it too.

    You could also check out my first newsletter, You Heard Me Whisper — And That Means Everything. Or check out my PDF as a thank you from me to you, The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    No spam, no pressure, just sharing things I’ve made since starting this project of mine.

    Other than that, I will see you all later in the archives.

    The Whisper of a Far Off Promise — of Freedom, Choice, and Rest.

    Achievement Unlocked: My First Lock Opened

    Learning to Work With A.I. — Not Let It Think For Me