Discipline-driven athlete. Longevity enthusiast. Obsessed with systemizing clarity, strength, and high performance.
But I didn’t always live this way.
And truthfully — it wasn’t one clean transformation. It was a series of real breakdowns, lessons, and rebuilds.
The Disconnected Phase
A few years ago, I was living in what felt like a loop I couldn’t break. I wasn’t “failing” per se — I was just stuck. Floating in this space where nothing was truly wrong, but nothing was right either. I was going through the motions: training semi-consistently, eating what I thought was “pretty good,” following fit accounts on social media, listening to podcasts that hyped me up temporarily — but it was like trying to build a house on sand.
Inside, I felt… disconnected.
From my goals. From my body. From myself.
I’d wake up bloated more days than not. My energy was unpredictable — high for a moment, then completely gone. I’d hit workouts but feel weak. My recovery sucked. I couldn’t focus. I craved sugar constantly. And worst of all, I felt like I was always chasing something that never fully arrived.
It wasn’t laziness. It wasn’t a lack of effort. I was putting in work. But none of it felt aligned. I was busy — not effective. I remember one morning vividly — staring at myself in the mirror, feeling this quiet kind of frustration. Not because of how I looked. But because deep down, I knew this wasn’t my best. I wasn’t living at my potential. And I had no real system to get there.
I told myself: I have the discipline. I have the drive. So why do I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels?
That morning marked something. A quiet turning point. Not because I had some huge epiphany — but because I was finally honest with myself: what I was doing… wasn’t working.
The 75 Hard Phase
So I did what many of us do when we’re tired of being stuck: I jumped into something extreme.
It promised clarity, discipline, structure — and above all, results. And it delivered. For 75 days straight, I was a machine.
No alcohol. Two workouts a day. Reading. Clean eating. Daily progress photos. No compromise, no excuses. Just relentless execution. And you know what? I loved it — for a while. There was something incredibly empowering about having a clear box to tick every day. I felt sharp. Controlled. In it.
I dropped weight. Looked lean. Felt focused.
Friends noticed. I noticed. It felt like I was finally unlocking the next level. But as the days counted down to the finish line, I felt this strange tension: What happens when it’s over? And when it was over — I found out.
The Rebound
Post-75 Hard, I thought I’d just continue on my path.
But without the strict rules, the structure began to crack.
A missed workout here. A snack I wouldn’t have touched before. Less water. Less sleep. I told myself I’d “get back on track tomorrow.” But tomorrow kept moving. Slowly, my progress faded. The weight crept back on. My discipline eroded.
And here’s the hardest part to admit: It wasn’t just a physical relapse — it hit mentally.
Because I had gone so hard, so fast… that when I finally breathed, the whole thing collapsed.
I started questioning myself. Was I just someone who could only operate under pressure?
Was all of that change even real? That phase? That was my rock bottom. Not because of how I looked — but because of how disconnected I felt again, despite everything I’d achieved.
The Awakening: Outlive and the Bigger Picture
It was during that low that I picked up “Outlive” by Peter Attia.
At first, I didn’t expect much. I’d read books before. I thought I knew what longevity meant.
But this was different.
Outlive shifted my lens from short-term fitness… to long-term healthspan.
It made me ask:
Am I building a body that looks good for a month — or one that lasts for decades?
Am I training for performance — or for longevity?
Am I surviving — or actually thriving?