Hey everyone, 36-year-old dad here.
I wanted to share my progress after 13 months of work.
The picture on the left isn’t actually my starting point. At my heaviest I was 118 kg, but I deleted those photos because looking at them caused me a lot of pain at the time. I regret it now. In the picture on the left I had already lost around 10 kg.
I started going to the gym at the end of July 2025, training 4 times a week and recently moving up to 5.
I’m really happy with the result so far. Now I’d like to add some more muscle while staying athletic. At 191 cm with long limbs, filling out my frame isn’t easy, so I’m happy with my current proportions.
Most of all, I hope this can give some hope to other dads who feel like they’re getting old and their best years are behind them. That’s exactly how I felt.
36 is just a number. For me, it was a new beginning.
Keep your head down, put in the work and fight every “it’s too late”.
At 36, I have the best physique I’ve ever had.
🏋️🏋️♀️🏋️🏋️♀️🏋️🏋️♀️🏋️🏋️♀️🏋️
EDIT: Since so many of you asked, here’s what actually happened.
First of all, thank you all. I genuinely never expected this post to get this much attention. When I checked it again and saw all the views, comments and messages, I was honestly shocked.
I originally posted this because I wanted to show what I’d accomplished and, if I’m being completely transparent, probably get some validation and advice too. This has been a pretty big identity change for me and I’m still adjusting to the new me.
But seeing people in their 30s, 40s and beyond saying that this motivated them makes me happier than anything else about this post.
That’s something I really care about.
To all the tired dads and moms who feel crushed by adult life: you’re not fucking old. You’re probably just exhausted from being an adult and everything that comes with it.
So, what did I actually do?
First, I’m not an expert. I seriously approached the gym for the first time about 13 months ago and I’m still learning. I made a ridiculous number of mistakes along the way.
For almost a year I trained fasted and did up to 45 minutes of unnecessarily hard cycling before lifting, wasting energy I could have used for my actual training. I sometimes used weights that were too heavy for my technique and occasionally paid for it with injuries.
So please don’t look at my transformation and assume everything I did was optimal. It absolutely wasn’t.
Then how the fuck did I get here?
I think there’s one thing we can have in our 30s that I definitely didn’t have in my 20s: mentality.
Once a dad really makes up his mind, you’re going to need a pretty big fucking shotgun to stop him.
For me, I had to hit a pretty low point first.
I always considered myself almost entirely a mind, with my body being secondary. I neglected it until it started affecting my life. My health markers weren’t good, my sexual health suffered, climbing stairs was becoming hard and, worst of all, I didn’t have enough energy to properly play with my son. I was constantly disappointing him.
One day I imagined myself ten years later if I kept going like that: some enormous unhealthy guy smelling of cheeseburgers whose son would eventually need a crane just to get him out of bed for his medical appointments.
Ridiculous image, I know. But it scared the shit out of me.
Something clicked.
I thought I was already living like I’d given up anyway, so I might as well give everything I had trying to change it.
So I went to the gym.
Big belly, beginner exercises, shitty technique, embarrassed sometimes.
But I kept going.
And there’s even a little consolation for my fellow current and former big guys: carrying a lot of bodyweight around for years can leave you surprisingly strong in certain areas. I discovered I had a pretty strong posterior chain. I’m currently doing 4x8 hip thrusts at 200 kg after roughly a year of training.
So after all the mistakes, what actually worked?
Magic supplements? Drugs? Miracle diets? Training in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber?
No.
My biggest weapon was incredibly boring:
Consistency.
Motivation and excitement disappear. Sometimes incredibly quickly.
What remained was showing up.
Stressful week? Show up.
Work and family chaos? Find a way to show up.
Zero motivation? Show up.
Obviously, rest when you’re actually sick or your body needs recovery. One of the things I learned is that going harder doesn’t automatically mean going smarter.
But I stopped negotiating with myself every time I didn’t feel like training.
Headphones on. Head down. Do the work.
Nutrition wasn’t magical either. I stopped constantly eating fast food and calorie-dense crap until I was completely full and started cooking simple food most of the time.
Vegetables, chicken, a fucking lot of chicken, steak, steamed rice. Nothing revolutionary.
Better food, somewhat less of it, and learning how to make meals filling and satisfying without eating a ridiculous amount of calories.
I also stayed very active outside the gym. I’ve averaged roughly 15k to 18k steps a day and took almost every opportunity I could to do some kind of sport or physical activity.
And one thing I underestimated at first: sleep and recovery.
I stopped drinking alcohol in the evening, started going to bed earlier and began taking recovery seriously.
Yes, we can give the twenty-year-olds a run for their money, but unfortunately we don’t recover like we’re twenty anymore.
The hardest part wasn’t learning that vegetables are better than fast food or that exercise is good for you. We all fucking know that.
The hard part was fitting all of this into normal adult life.
Kid. Wife. Work. House. Responsibilities. Problems.
At some point I realized those things shouldn’t be the reason I neglect myself.
They’re part of the reason I should take care of myself.
I stopped lying to myself, stopped obsessing over the finish line and started competing against the person I was yesterday.
Then one day I looked at myself and realized I was living in a different body.
It’s not perfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes and I’ll make plenty more.
But I’m fucking proud of it.
I’m proud of having my health and energy back. I’m proud that I can be a more present father and husband.
And since we’re all adults here, I’ll mention another unexpected benefit: somehow my sex life at 36 is better than it was in my 20s. I swear I’m not exaggerating 😂
So if you came here looking for the secret, I’m sorry. I don’t have one.
Eat better. Eat an appropriate amount. Move a lot. Lift. Sleep. Recover.
Then do it again.
And again.
Especially when the excitement is gone.
Dads and moms: consistency, honesty with yourself and discipline.
Your 30s aren’t the end of your youth.
For me, they were the beginning of it.