When we talk about getting fit, we often talk about the plan. How many sessions a week? How many sets? How many repetitions? What weight? What progression? What are we doing in week four, week eight and week twelve? And for some people, that’s absolutely brilliant.
Some people love having a programme. They like recording their weights, seeing the numbers increase and knowing exactly what they’re doing when they walk into the gym. Give them a training diary and they’re happy. They want to know they’re doing three sets of ten today and that next week they’ll increase the resistance. Structure gives them confidence. It removes the question, “What shall I do today?” They know exactly what they’re doing and why they’re doing it.
But not everybody is motivated that way. For some people, too much structure can actually take the joy out of exercise. They’ve spent their whole day following schedules, answering emails, meeting deadlines and doing what they’re supposed to do. The last thing they want when they exercise is another list of instructions.
Some people need variety and play. They might want to get on the rowing machine for five minutes, try some squats, pick up a kettlebell, do some resistance-band exercises, have a go at something they’ve never tried before, laugh when they get it wrong and finish with a lovely stretch. And that’s okay. In fact, for that person, variety might be the very thing that keeps them exercising.
The best exercise programme in the world is useless if you don’t want to do it. Sometimes the fitness industry can make exercise unnecessarily complicated. Of course, there are principles we need to understand. If you want to become stronger, fitter or more mobile, your body needs an appropriate challenge. And if you have a very specific goal, some structure and progression will usually help you get there. But that doesn’t mean every workout has to feel like a spreadsheet.
You can progress without obsessively recording every repetition. You can become stronger while enjoying variety. You can improve your cardiovascular fitness by dancing one day, cycling another day and going for a brisk walk the next. And you can have a brilliant workout simply because you moved your body, challenged yourself and enjoyed it.
This is where personal training becomes really interesting. Perhaps we need to train the person, not just the body. Two people could walk through the gym door with exactly the same physical goal — perhaps they both want to become stronger and fitter — but they might need completely different approaches.
One person might say, “Tell me exactly what to do. Give me a twelve-week programme and let’s measure everything.” Another might say, “Please don’t make this too serious. I just want to feel better, have some fun and enjoy moving again.” Neither person is doing fitness incorrectly. They’re simply different people.
A good personal trainer isn’t only asking, “What does this person’s body need?” They’re also asking, “What will make this person want to come back?”
There can still be a plan underneath the fun. The client doesn’t necessarily need to feel as though they’re following a rigid programme, but the trainer can quietly provide the structure. Perhaps during the session we want to include some leg work, pushing, pulling, core strength, balance and cardiovascular exercise. There might be twenty different ways of achieving that.
One week we might use dumbbells. Another week we use resistance bands. Another week we work with body weight. We might use a medicine ball, a cable machine or simply go outside. The science provides the framework. The personality determines how we deliver it.
Movement can also be playful. Watch children move. They run, jump, climb, balance, crawl, throw things and suddenly sprint across the garden for absolutely no reason. They don’t call it cardiovascular conditioning. They call it playing.
Somewhere along the way, adults can start believing that exercise only counts if it’s sufficiently serious, difficult or organised. It doesn’t. Movement can be joyful. It can be curious. It can be social. It can even be a little bit silly. And if enjoying yourself means you continue moving your body for the next ten years, I’d argue that’s a pretty successful fitness programme.
So perhaps before asking, “What’s the perfect workout?”, we should ask, “What kind of exerciser am I?” Do you love routine and measurable progression, or do you need freedom, variety and play? Perhaps you’re somewhere in between. You might like enough structure to know you’re progressing but enough freedom that exercise never becomes boring.
There isn’t one correct answer. Ultimately, fitness isn’t about becoming brilliant at following somebody else’s instructions. It’s about finding a way of moving your body that you can actually imagine continuing.
Sometimes the person who needs a twelve-week training plan needs exactly that. But sometimes the best programme is much simpler: turn up, move, try something new, have some fun, do the best you can today and come back again.
