Trainyourbestself

Notes

Short pieces we write when the same question comes up three times in a month.

Why we start with sleep and daily steps, not a split routine

A split routine is a filing system. It tells you which muscles are supposed to work on which day. It does not tell you whether the person in front of us can recover from those days. In the first assessment we therefore spend more time on wake time, weekday steps, and the shape of the working week than on whether the plan should be push–pull–legs or a full-body pair.

Someone sleeping five hours, walking two thousand steps between the desk and the MRT, and flying twice a month will not become more consistent because we named the days after body parts. They become more consistent when the sessions fit the hours they already have, and when the days between sessions include some walking that does not need a gym.

We ask for a rough weekday step count and a typical bedtime because those two numbers explain more stalled programmes than exercise selection does. A person who already trains four times a week and has not added a kilo to a squat in months is often not under-programmed. They are under-recovered. Adding a fifth session, or a more elaborate split, is the wrong kind of diligence.

The first week we write is therefore often shorter than people expect. Two strength sessions, a walking target that is only a little above what they already do, and a note on a consistent sleep window. The split, if we use one at all, arrives after we have seen whether those sessions were actually completed.

This is not a claim that sleep replaces strength training. It is a claim about order. A programme that ignores the week around it is a programme you will drop, and then blame on motivation. We would rather write a smaller week that happens.

If you already sleep well and walk plenty, we say so in the note and move on to loading. The point of asking is not to moralise. It is to stop handing a six-day split to a person whose calendar cannot hold it.

Soreness is a poor measure of a good session

Delayed soreness is a common request. People ask for it because it is a feeling that arrives on time and seems to prove that the hour was not wasted. It is also a poor measure. Novelty produces soreness. So does a sudden jump in eccentric work. Neither of those facts tells you whether you are stronger than last month.

We would rather look at what you lifted, how the next day felt at a desk or on the stairs, and whether you could repeat the session later in the week. A session that leaves you unable to sit comfortably, and then unable to train on Friday, is not a better session than one you can repeat.

New clients often arrive from classes that chase that feeling. The first two weeks here can feel quiet by comparison. That is deliberate. We are measuring tolerance: can this load be done again on an ordinary Wednesday, including the Wednesday with a late meeting.

If a movement is new, some soreness is ordinary and usually settles in a few days. If the same movement is still producing sharp soreness after several weeks, that is a dosing problem, not proof that the lift is “working”. We change the range, the tempo, or the total number of hard sets.

We also do not treat the absence of soreness as laziness. Experienced lifters often finish a useful session feeling organised rather than damaged. That is one of the points of practice.

When we review notes at eight weeks, soreness almost never appears as a column. Completed work and a simple readiness score do. Those two tell us more about whether the plan should stay, shrink, or be rewritten.

Training in Singapore humidity: what we actually change

The studio is on the ninth floor with air-conditioning, but most of the week is not spent in the studio. People train after a walk from Outram Park, or in a condo gym with a tired cooling unit, or outdoors because that is the only slot left. Humidity is not a character test. It is a constraint, and we write it into the plan the same way we write travel.

The first change is pace, not heroics. We keep the hard sets, and we lengthen the pauses between them when the room is close. A longer pause is not wasted time. It is how the next set stays technical. Shortening rest to “keep the heart rate up” in a still, wet room is how form drifts and how people start skipping the last lift.

The second change is the clock. Where we can, we put the harder sessions earlier, before the afternoon build-up, or we move them indoors. We do not tell anyone to suffer a lunchtime run as proof of consistency. A 06:45 session that happens is more useful than a 13:00 session that is bargained away every Thursday.

Water is ordinary, not a protocol. We ask people to arrive having drunk something with their last meal, and to bring a bottle they will actually use. Salt stays in household terms: food that tastes of something, a pinch in a meal on a heavy day, not a medical dose and not a product list. If you have been told by a doctor to limit salt or fluid, that instruction wins. We will not talk you out of it.

We also cut outdoor conditioning when the air is still and the pavement is radiating. The rower or a simple carry in a cooled room replaces it. That is not a downgrade. It is the version of the week that can be repeated in March as well as in January.

None of this is clinical advice about heat illness. If you feel dizzy, stop, get cool, and speak to a doctor if it does not settle. Our job is to write a session that still makes sense on a humid Wednesday, not to teach anyone to override a warning sign.

The eight-week review: the three questions we ask

Eight weeks is long enough to see a pattern and short enough that a bad plan has not become a personality. We sit down with the first assessment and the session notes. We do not start with a new programme. We start with three questions.

What has become easier in ordinary life. Stairs, a suitcase, a long day at a desk, getting off the floor, a walk that used to feel like a negotiation. If nothing in daily life has moved, the gym numbers are not the whole story, and we say so.

What still feels awkward. A range that has not settled, a lift you still rush, a shoulder that you keep protecting without naming it. Awkward is useful. It tells us what the next block should still treat as unfinished, rather than as a box already ticked.

What in the plan you simply did not do. This is the question people apologise for. We do not need the apology. A session that never happened is a scheduling fact. We either move it to a day that exists, shorten it, or drop it. Rewriting a plan you already were not doing is how coaches stay busy and clients stay guilty.

From those three answers we choose. Continue in the same format. Change to remote programming or pairs. Stop. Stopping after a clean block is a normal end. It means the notes did their job and you can train from them without us in the room.

We write the decision on the same pages as the first assessment. If you later come back after travel or a busy quarter, we start from that review rather than pretending the first ninety minutes never happened.

Have a question we have not written about?

Send a few sentences. If it is a question we keep hearing, it may become the next note. If it is yours alone, we will still answer it as part of booking an assessment.