How I Became a Trainer
I got into training when I was about 25 years old. I wasn't planning on it. I was just the guy in the gym working out and reading bodybuilding books and magazines between sets.
People started coming up to me and asking for advice. How do I build my chest? Why isn't my bench moving? I'd answer honestly, the same way I'd read it that morning. And after a few weeks, or a month, I'd see a difference in their strength and endurance. That part got me. Watching somebody change because of something I said — that never gets old.
Then the questions turned into statements. You should train me. You should become a trainer. I laughed it off at first. But the moment I knew this was what I wanted to do was when my mom and a couple friends asked me to train them. When your own mother asks you to train her, you don't say maybe. You say yes.
Around that time I kept seeing training videos as I scrolled on social media. I'd watch them and think about different workouts, different ways to explain things, and I fell in love with working out all over again. Not just my own training — other people's. That's the part I couldn't turn off.
People ask what changed. Nothing dramatic. I realized I'd been coaching for free my whole life — answering questions, correcting form, explaining why the magazine program wasn't working for them. The only difference between that and training was somebody finally putting a schedule on it. My mom asking was the permission slip I didn't know I was waiting for.
Eight years later, I'm still at it, here in Detroit. Moe Taylor Jr Fitness. And the way I coach comes straight from how this started: I don't talk to clients like a trainer talking down to them. I talk to them like friends and family, because most of my first ones were.
It also built the promise I keep to this day: I refuse to give up on a client just because they're not taking it as serious as I am. Life happens. You don't know what the next person is going through. If I can convince them to keep going, I will. They'll have to tell me they're done before I ever call it.
Why do I tell you all this? Because coaching style isn't decoration. When a coach talks to you like family, you tell the truth about your week. When a coach refuses to give up, you don't quietly disappear in week three. Those two things are why my clients build seasons that survive real life instead of streaks that break at the first bad week.
If my story sounds like yours — the person everyone asks for advice, the one who never saw yourself as the trainer — maybe it's time to stop watching other people's training videos and start your own. Get in touch and let's find out. If you want to know what the training actually looks like first, start with the three lifts.