09/03/2026
I didn’t set out to write a book.
I was frustrated.
I kept seeing people who genuinely wanted to take better care of themselves, but they were overwhelmed by the amount of information coming at them.
Eat this.
Don’t eat that.
Lift weights.
Do cardio.
Try this supplement.
Don’t eat after 7.
Train harder.
Recover more.
And somehow, the more information people consumed, the less confident they seemed about what they should actually do.
But here’s the thing:
People already know a lot.
They know they should probably exercise.
They know nutrition matters.
They know sleep matters.
They know stress matters.
The problem isn’t necessarily knowing anything.
The problem is trying to decipher everything they’re being told, figure out what actually applies to them, and then somehow integrate it into an already busy life.
Then I’d hear:
“I know what I’m supposed to do. I just can’t stick with it.”
I started questioning that.
Maybe the problem wasn’t a lack of discipline.
Maybe the problem was that knowing what to do and being able to integrate it into your life are two very different things.
That’s where The Process began.
I wanted to create something that went beyond telling people what to eat or how to exercise.
Something that helped people understand how to think about wellness.
How to evaluate information.
How to make decisions.
How to apply those decisions to real life.
And how to adapt when life inevitably changes.
Because wellness isn’t a checklist.
It’s something we have to continually navigate.
That’s why The Process became more than a book about fitness.
It’s a framework for making sense of wellness in a world that’s constantly telling us what we’re supposed to be doing.
And honestly, that’s still the work I do today.
The book explains the philosophy.
The studio is where I apply it.
My workshops are where I teach it.
My speaking is where I translate it.
And my coaching is where I help people make it personal.
Same problem. Different ways of helping solve it.l
