Record the set.
Sets, reps, rest, heart rate. Your memory is a flatterer. This isn't.
Log the sets. Let Apple Health and Fitness in. Add the DEXA scan you paid a small fortune to be mildly upset by. Everything you have ever achieved in one place, instead of across four apps and a PDF you cannot find.
Built by someone who has waited their turn at the squat rack, which is not a qualification you can hire for.
Make it count.
What you can do
Lifting, watch, scans. One record, and a short list of people you let near it.
Sets, reps, rest, heart rate. Your memory is a flatterer. This isn't.
You did the work. Your watch witnessed it.
The only race where the field is you, and you still get to win.
You upload it. We pull the numbers out.
Four audiences, four reasons, one record. Revocable, all of them.
Visible only to you. We could not read it if we wanted to.
The maths
You are a collection of levers, and nobody else has your set. The bar weighs exactly the same for both of you. What differs is the moment it demands of your joints to move it, which can be half again as much for one of you as the other. He is not being modest. You are not being weak. You are being a different shape, and shape is not a matter of opinion.
Two people, same bar, same depth, and one of them is folded over like a deckchair. It is very tempting to call that a technique problem. It is a thigh, measured against a shin, and the argument was settled long before either of you was born.
How far forward you have to lean. Not a preference.
Chest up, and still balanced. High bar will feel natural and you do not need much shoe. If someone tells you squatting is easy, they probably have your proportions.
Either bar position suits you, and most of the coaching you have ever read was written for this body. Nothing here needs fixing.
Because you are, because you have to. That is a long thigh, not a fault, and no amount of cueing your chest up will shorten it. Low bar will feel stronger than high bar, and it is not a compromise.
At this angle somebody will tell you that you are doing a good morning. They are describing your skeleton and calling it a mistake. Widen your feet or get something under your heels and watch this number fall.
With that ankle and that setup the bar cannot stay over your foot at parallel, at any lean, by anybody. This is the squat you have been failing at and being told to try harder. Raise your heels or widen your feet and watch it become possible.
Whatever moved your squat was sitting on a different chart weeks ago, being politely ignored.
Two lines moving together is a coincidence with good posture. We label it as one.
What you hand over has the emotional force of a parking receipt. What comes back is the same numbers, not one of them altered, arranged until you can see the shape of them. We added nothing. We stopped it being beige.
Six months of a stranger's training, and the last time we will ask you to care about a stranger. Drag the handle. The three weeks they got worse are still in there, because taking them out would be a different product.
kg
Your best set this week
Up fifty five pounds since the first week. Which sounds modest until you notice it is a whole extra person you now stand up with, every Tuesday, apparently for fun.
Everything below is that week and only that week, worked out again from nothing. There are no averages here. An average is a careful description of somebody who has never existed and is not available for comment.
Your bests, exactly as they stood that week. Drag backwards far enough and you can watch them un-happen, one at a time, which is easily the rudest thing on this page and by some margin the most convincing. Nothing that only ever goes up is telling you the truth.
Bench press
Personal record
kg
Set on
Back squat
Most reps in a set
reps
Set on
Pull ups
Highest heart rate
bpm
Reached on
kg·reps
Every plate counted once per rep, quietly added up while you were busy counting to five. Volume load rather than work: a rep is a count, not a distance.
Turning up, counted.
The unglamorous number that did all the actual work and gets none of the credit.
kg
Your heaviest honest set that week. Honest is doing a lot of work in that sentence, and we mean it.
kg
What a single would look like. Nobody needs you to go and prove it, least of all us.
kg
Where most of your training should actually live. Rather duller than where it usually does.
N·m
The barbell's share, per knee, from the shank and ankle you set further up this page. Not a peak and not the whole moment: your own body and the floor are pushing too, and neither of them fits on a tape measure.
bpm
The one number that improves while you are asleep, taking absolutely no credit for it.
bpm
The moment you would rather not repeat, preserved forever, entirely without your permission.
Deliberately, we have generously decided to assume.
min
The part you said you were going to do. Look at that.
kg
One input among many, and the one everybody insists on treating as the verdict.
The one thing we need for heart rate zones, and the only number on this entire page borrowed from strangers rather than taken from you. We like it no more than you do, and we will drop it the moment your own heart gives us something better.
HRmax ≈ 208 − 0.7 × age
The replacement for 220 minus your age, which was never based on much and overestimates the young while underselling everybody else.
Tanaka, Monahan and Seals, Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 2001Your watch caught you above what the equation allows for. That is the equation being wrong about you, not you being wrong about your own heart, and we have marked where you actually went rather than where a textbook would prefer you had.
Which deserves a caveat, given the fuss this page has made about averages. Your real maximum belongs to you and this equation has never met you. It is the best guess anybody has published, it is still a guess, and the first time your watch catches you above it we will side with the watch.
One photo, same corner, same light, ten seconds. Every morning if you are that person, twice a year if you are not, and nobody here is counting. Nobody sees them. Not your coach, not your friends, not us: they go into the same locked box as everything else and they do not come out. Fill them and the future you is waiting at the far end of the strip, ready to shake your hand.
There is nothing wrong with the competition. They are answering their question accurately. It is simply not the question you asked, which was never what happens to people but what is happening to me.
The premise
Elsewhere
They compare you to the average person.
The trouble with the average person is that they are statistically useful and biologically nowhere to be found. Most fitness advice is designed for them anyway.
The system
Elsewhere
They record that you did squats.
Three layers, one record, every version kept. The app forgets nothing, which is occasionally annoying and eventually the entire point.
The envelope
Elsewhere
They tell you your form is wrong.
There is no correct squat. There are only squats that suit a particular person on a particular day, which is a less satisfying answer and a considerably more useful one.
The refusals
Elsewhere
They will happily tell you all four of these by Thursday.
Certainty is cheap to manufacture and expensive to trust. Every one of these would look superb on a dashboard, and every one of them is a number we have not earned. So the space stays empty.
A sales page is an unusual place to list the limits of your own product. We would rather you found them here, in four minutes, than in eight months, having built something on top of them.
Nobody picked their genetics and nobody is stuck with the default either. The gap between the two is where everything interesting happens, and it gets found one small experiment at a time.
A sample of one is small everywhere except where you are standing.
Coming soon
You do not coach a population. You coach the person in front of you, who is inconveniently specific and has never once read the textbook they were prescribed from. This is that, and it is not ready yet.
Not open yet
Then it turned out to be useful, which was never the plan. So it gets finished properly and paid for honestly, and if now is not the moment, that is completely fine. It will still be here.
01 You join
Four fields, ten seconds. No password to invent, forget, and reset.
02 I build
Nothing gets announced until it survives my own training. A focus group of one, and a hard one to please.
03 You hear first
One email, from me, on the day it opens. Not a sequence, not a journey, just the email.
04 You pay
$4 a month, or $48 for the year. You pay, which is precisely why nobody else is paying for your attention.
Your data stays yours. Exportable in full, deletable in full, and never sold to somebody who wants to sell you knee sleeves.
What happens
Four fields. No account, no password, no card.