The Stratagem’s Archive

Tag: Strength journey

  • 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.

    Download Chaotic Life Strong Exercise Flows PDF Here

    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

  • My Return to BJJ—1 Year Later—and Purposely Undergoing a Live Stress Test: A Reflection

    My Hands Were Shaking When I Drove to Class

    It’s been nearly a year since I last stepped on the blue mats of my BJJ academy. According to my training journal, my last class was January 8th, 2025 — my 128th class — before I had to stop due to a back injury and financial constraints from a car accident. Returning on December 7th, 2025, felt like a long time, and I was nervous:

    • It had been nearly a year since I last rolled.

    • There might be people I wouldn’t know.

    • Some classes require students to be at least a 3-stripe white belt for participation. Thankfully, I still qualified as a 3 stripe white belt.

    While driving, my body reacted in unexpected ways: my left calf cramped, I started coughing, and I told myself, “Damn, my body is reacting because it’s nervous. Of all times to be bitching out, it had to be now?”

    After months of routine—work, sleep, errands, video games, and home training—I needed more than the usual grind. BJJ was closer to home now, and it felt like the right time to go back.

    ⸻

    Why I Needed a Stress Test

    For those unfamiliar, a stress test in martial arts, much like in life, is about safely pushing your body to see how it holds up under live conditions.

    Over the years, I’ve collected injuries and scars from inattentiveness, being caught off guard by others, or even my XXL pit bulls jumping on me. I wanted to know: was my body ready for live sparring again?

    Sparring isn’t the same as wrestling. You have to consider chokes, joint locks, and having someone’s full weight on you while pinning your back to the mat. Anything can go wrong. My goal wasn’t to dominate — it was to measure my physical and mental readiness after a long break.

    ⸻

    Walking Back Onto the Mats

    I parked, grabbed my keys and water, locked my doors, and approached the gym cautiously, like a baby deer taking its first steps. Looking inside, I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Familiar faces waved, which calmed my nerves.

    I sought out the professor who owns the academy, but a different instructor was running the class. He recognized me from previous sessions and gave me the green light to spar after the No Gi fundamentals class ended. I sat on the benches, trembling, pressing my hands together, inhaling and exhaling — then holding my breath because I forgot how to breathe.

    Once the class ended, I warmed up with jumping jacks to prime myself. The professor asked if I was okay rolling with a purple belt I knew, and I jumped at the chance.

    I’m not afraid to roll with someone who is bigger, stronger, more experienced, or more skilled than me. I get to learn, practice, and see what I can do, even if they go light to keep both of us safe from sparring.

    ⸻

    How the Stress Test Went

    Three rounds of six-minute sparring later, I was pleasantly surprised at how well I did. It felt more like I had taken a short break, not a full year off.

    Some mistakes were minor — I forgot the precise way to finish a rear choke — but I adjusted when reminded. I even executed an ankle pick sweep: pulling my partner’s ankles toward me while redirecting his momentum with my legs. It didn’t lead to a full reversal, but I was responding appropriately to pressure.

    My rolling style is defensive and strategic. I trap opponents, force them to waste energy, and conserve my own. I’m not explosive or dominant, but I’m patient, resilient, and precise. The stress test reminded me that physical strength isn’t the only measure of capability; strategy, awareness, and calm under pressure matter just as much.

    ⸻

    Reflection

    Returning to BJJ after a long break wasn’t just a test of skill — it was a test of confidence, patience, and self-trust. I learned that:

    • Time away doesn’t erase progress.

    • My instincts are still there; my mind still processes challenges.

    • Nervousness is natural, but preparation and mindfulness make it manageable.

    • Strategy and awareness often matter more than raw strength.

    ⸻

    Questions for You to Reflect On

    1. Have you ever returned to something you loved after a long break? How did it feel physically, mentally, or emotionally?

    2. What kind of “stress test” could you apply to your own life to measure your growth or readiness?

    3. How do you balance nervousness with action in situations that challenge you?

    ⸻

    Thank You for Spending Time with the Archives

    If you enjoyed reading this reflection, I’d love for you to like, subscribe, or share with someone who might appreciate it.

    You can share your thoughts in the comments below to start a discussion, or you can do so anonymously at the archives email, whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com.

    Otherwise, if you prefer, you can reflect silently and carry your thoughts forward — either way, thank you for spending time with the archives. Your attention and energy mean a lot.

    ————

    Explore The Stratagems Archives

    If this article piqued your interest, then check out the archives below:

  • 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: Becoming Strong on My Own Terms

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Getting Back Into the Game

    It’s been one month since I returned to using my little home gym again, ready to take on the weight of my sandbag and kettlebells instead of the weight of my jobs and internal critic.

    My inspiration to get back into training comes from Elden Ring’s main character—the Tarnished—who, despite being a nobody in a land destroyed by war, keeps fighting, getting stronger, and never stops coming back from each defeat.

    That’s how I often feel, only without gods, monsters, or the ability to respawn at sites of grace.

    Instead, I have my jobs, bills, debt, managing chronic pain, and the constant effort to eat and sleep enough, while carving out time to write and work out.

    Because of everything on my plate, I chose to start small: 1–2 days a week using weights and calisthenics, with light stretching on alternate days to manage my lower back pain.

    Mondays are my non-negotiable training days since it’s my day off, and I stay flexible about the other days.

    I’ve also started experimenting with journaling, meditation, and goal-setting—working on my mental and emotional muscles, too. Because there are real monsters that need constant slaying.

    I can’t physically see them, but they live inside me: fear, doubt, regret, the ghosts of who I was versus who I am versus who I could be. These are the real-life versions of poison, scarlet rot, and death blight—infesting my mind, impeding progress, and sometimes killing my will to keep going.

    I’m in this gray area of life where I know things could get better—my body, mind, work conditions, finances, and time. But, very much like the Tarnished, I have to grind for every level I can before I lose the runes (progress) I’ve built up, facing the next enemy hiding in plain sight.

    And what are those enemies? The pesky maintenance tasks at home: chores, dishes, laundry, car upkeep, making sure my studio is functional. Sometimes, that’s the boss battle—and I’m often the one losing.

    For my training regimen, I asked ChatGPT to help design a program inspired by the Tarnished, tailored to what I have in my home gym, my physical limitations, and the number of days I can realistically train. Here’s how it’s been going…

    Fighting the Inner Voice: Reframing the Blame

    There were days this past month when I didn’t feel strong — not even close. My body didn’t move like it used to. My push-ups felt shaky. My endurance was low. I’d finish a shift exhausted, and even with a small win in training, I could feel those old, brutal voices in the back of my head crawling out again:

    • You’ve gotten so weak.
    • You’re pathetic.
    • You can’t even do your own job without being a burden.
    • What are you even doing about this?

    That last question used to be a weapon. It didn’t motivate me — it condemned me.

    But something shifted this time. I got angry. Not at the world, not at anyone else — but at myself, for letting that blame game play on repeat in my mind like a cursed loop. And so I challenged the question directly.

    “What are you doing about this?”

    became

    “I’m doing something about it.”

    That small change — that reframe — felt like casting a temporary buff in the middle of a tough fight. The voices quieted, just a little. Not gone, not defeated, but pushed back. Replaced by something sturdier. Something mine.

    I know that mindset boost won’t always be active. But that’s okay. Because just like in any good boss fight, sometimes the win isn’t about landing a massive critical hit — sometimes it’s just about nullifying the status effects long enough to get back to baseline. And honestly? That’s still a win.

    More Than Muscle: Why I’m Still Here

    This journey back into training isn’t about chasing old numbers or proving anything to anyone else. It’s about building strength that goes deeper than muscle — the kind that lets me face another day at work, another bill, another doubt, another version of myself I’m trying to outgrow.

    I’m not training to escape my life; I’m training so I can live it with more control, more awareness, and more refusal to stay broken.

    And even if my muscles shake, even if I can’t lift what I used to, I’m still showing up. That’s not weakness. That’s stubbornness. That’s endurance. That’s what makes me stronger than before — because I’m doing all of this not in ideal conditions, but in the middle of everything else I’m carrying.

    One month in, and I’m still in the fight.

    One month in, and I’ve proven to myself that I am doing something about it.

    This is more than muscle. This is me, becoming a real-life Tarnished — on my own terms.

    Before You Go…

    Maybe you’re in your own version of the Lands Between right now — stuck in the gray areas, rebuilding after burnout, grief, or just plain exhaustion.

    Maybe your strength doesn’t look like it used to. Maybe you’re still figuring out what “doing something about it” even means.

    Wherever you are in your journey — physically, mentally, emotionally — you’re not alone.

    So I’ll ask you this, gently:

    What’s your version of strength right now?

    What are you doing, even quietly, to keep going?

    A Note To Fellow Archivists

    An Invitation to You

    If any part of this piece resonates, I’d love to invite you to pause for a moment and reflect on your own journey.

    • What part of your story feels messy, uncertain, or unfinished right now?
    • Where are you weary, wondering, or wandering?
    • What small reminder do you need today that you don’t have to fit neatly into anyone’s expectations?

    You don’t have to share your reflections out loud — sometimes it’s enough just to notice them for yourself. But if you’d like, you’re always welcome to write them in the comments, or even send them my way privately. This space is here so that we can remind ourselves and each other: you’re not alone in this.

    If you’ve found something meaningful here, liking, sharing, or subscribing helps fellow wanderers find this little pocket of the internet too. And if you subscribe, you’ll also receive Letters from the Void, my newsletter where I share more quiet reflections, behind-the-scenes projects, and updates before they appear anywhere else.

    However you choose to engage — silently reading, reflecting privately, or joining in the conversation — you’re part of this archive. Thank you for being here.

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    Other work to check out:

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

    More Than Muscle: My No-Gym, No-Excuse Home Setup

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

    — The Stratagem’s Archives

  • More Than Muscle: My No-Gym, No-Excuse Home Setup

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Life Outside of the Gym Setting

    Most people go to the gym for more than just equipment. It’s the energy, the people, the buzz — the sense that you’re part of something. I get that. I used to train in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and felt that same rush — sparring, learning, getting my face shoved into the mat, and still getting back up. There’s a kind of community there that makes you feel like you belong.

    But life doesn’t always let you belong.

    Pain, exhaustion, work, debt, and the kind of schedule that doesn’t give a damn if you’re sore or soul-tired — those are real. So instead of wishing for a better time or waiting for a perfect gym, I’ve built a home setup that fits my life as it is — not the life I wish I had.

    This is strength — to me, it’s not the numbers I lift, but the fact that I still show up, even when my lower back flares up with acute and electric pain shooting up and down my left leg.

    My Apartment Friendly Home Gym

    No, I don’t have a power rack or squat bar. I’m not looking for “absolute strength.” Anymore at least. What I want is to feel good in my body again — powerful, capable, like I’m a character out of the games I love:

    • The Tarnished from Elden Ring.
    • Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey.
    • The Hunter from Bloodborne.
    • Wolf from Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice.

    Characters who don’t just survive — they move, they fight, they climb, they persist, they endure and thrive, even starting out as faceless nobodies at the ending of a life changing event or in the middle of it.

    I train to feel like I can handle whatever the world throws at me — physically and mentally, even with my current limitations because life tends to beat you until you’re within an inch of your life, no matter what you do and don’t do.

    Here’s What I Have For My Set Up

    • 25–35 lb sandbag – For squats, rows, carries, and controlled chaos
    • Kettlebells (10–30 lbs) – Versatile and easy to grip for swings, squats, and more
    • High dip bars – Bodyweight rows, dips, and pushups with range
    • Resistance bands – Mobility, control, and variety without weights
    • 8 lb weighted vest – Makes everything harder and humbles you fast
    • 2.5 lb ankle/wrist weights – Subtle burn, especially for rehab-style days
    • Foam roller – For recovery and mobility sessions Mindset – The 2nd most important thing in the room
    • Myself — the MOST important thing in the room.

    Since I also live above people, I have to make adjustments and choose appropriate workouts, so ballistic movements (like jumps) are out — but likely anyone can still get strong no matter their circumstances and restrictions.

    A Glimpse into My “Routine” — If You Can Call It That

    Today, after a long shift and traffic that tested my last nerve, I came home and:

    • Washed dishes
    • Threw tomorrow’s steak in the fridge to defrost
    • Picked up my sandbag and knocked out: 2 sets of sandbag squats 2 sets of sandbag rows

    Was it a “full workout?” Maybe not. But it was something. My journal has been filled with “rest days” lately, but today I reminded myself that I don’t need to be perfect — I just need to keep going.

    Some days, it’s:

    Pushups and bodyweight squats Sandbag carries or deadlifts Follow-along yoga (especially on flare-up days)

    I’m doing what I can until I can do more — boxing, parkour, rock climbing — and anything else I’ve been eyeing from a distance to compliment my wrestling and BJJ experience.

    This Regime Isn’t About Aesthetic or Approval

    I don’t train to look pretty. I never cared for makeup or the kind of attention I didn’t ask for. I train to earn the respect I don’t get just for existing. I train to feel comfortable in this body that’s carried pain, loss, anger, and fire for years.

    I don’t believe strength has to mean lifting more weight and just building absolute strength. There’s more to life than that. Sometimes, it’s lifting again — even after days, weeks, months, hell even years, that tried to kill your spirit, body, and break your mind.

    In Conclusion

    You don’t need a gym to be strong.

    You need a reason — even if that reason is rage, pride, spite, or the quiet belief that maybe, just maybe, you’re not done yet.

    For my recurring and quiet readers:

    What’s does strength look like, feel like, to you?

    Not the strength people keep shoving into your face when you don’t agree with it or what people say it is — what it actually means to you.

    You don’t have to comment. But if you’re reading this in silence, still breathing, still getting up, still moving — I see you.

    And if you’re building your own training setup, small or scrappy or silent — tell me about it. Or don’t. Just keep going. That’s enough.

    If this spoke to you, leave a comment — I actually read them. They remind me I’m not alone in this either.” Sharing helps others find this space too. That matters more than you know.

    — The Stratagem’s Archive

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

    It’s All Perspective: On Writing, Struggle, and Using the Tools That Keep Me Going

    Trunk Logic: Thoughts From the Pre-Shift Void

    Thank You + Free Download

    Letters from the Void Newsletter

  • 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