There was a period where fitness simply was not my priority.

Not because I didn’t care.
Not because I didn’t know what to do.
But because life load was high, responsibility was heavy, and something had to give.

At that time, a lot was happening at once. Building a house from the ground up. Long work hours. Shift work. Financial pressure. Kids. Being a present partner and parent. Getting things done because they had to be done.

So I put myself second.

I was still training. Still active. Still involved in the gym. But fitness was no longer something I was intentionally progressing. It was something I squeezed in around everything else.

And over time, that showed.

I carried more weight. I picked up injuries. I felt flatter than I wanted to admit. From the outside, I probably looked strong but unfit. And I know how that looks, because I’ve judged that exact thing in other people before.

That part is on me.

Those were the choices I made at the time, and they came with consequences. But they also taught me something important.

You cannot push fitness forward when your life is already at capacity.

That period forced me to understand what real life load actually looks like. Not just training load, but mental load, physical labour, stress, sleep disruption, and responsibility stacked on top of each other.

Fitness wasn’t failing because I didn’t know better.
It was failing because there was no room for it to sit at the top.

Eventually, that life load started to change.

The house was done. Financial pressure eased. Work stabilised. The constant background stress lifted. For the first time in a long time, I actually had the space to choose differently.

And that’s when everything shifted.

I could put fitness back near the top, not out of guilt, but because it finally made sense again. I could train with intent. I could recover properly. I could set goals and actually support them instead of fighting everything else in my life.

That’s when progress returned.

Not because I suddenly became disciplined.
But because capacity existed again.

Since then, I’ve rebuilt deliberately. Through setbacks, including knee surgery. Through patience. Through structure. Through doing the right things consistently instead of trying to force outcomes.

And now, I’m chasing something properly again.

In the next couple of years, my goal is simple and very clear. To line up at HYROX and break the one hour mark. Not as a gimmick. Not as a flex. But as proof of what becomes possible when life load, priorities, and training are aligned.

That goal isn’t about redemption.
It’s about direction.

This entire period shaped how I train and how I coach.

I don’t pretend life doesn’t get in the way.
I don’t assume fitness should always come first.
And I don’t judge people for phases where it can’t.

I design everything around capacity, timing, and reality because I’ve lived what happens when those things are ignored.

Life changes. Priorities shift. And when the space opens up again, progress is still there for the taking if you approach it properly.

This is the thinking behind how all MHR training systems are built.