The Evolution of a Coach
When I first started coaching, I thought I had it all figured out. I’d been lifting heavy for over a decade, competing in strength sports, and had built my entire fitness philosophy around one central idea: getting stronger solves everything. Want to lose weight? Lift heavy. Want to get bigger? Lift heavy. Want better mobility, more confidence, a healthier life? Lift heavy.
And to be fair, I wasn’t entirely wrong. Strength is one of the most powerful tools we have. But over time, I realized something important—coaching isn’t about what I believe to be true. It’s about helping each client achieve what they want. That’s the difference between a coach and a trainer. A trainer can write a great program. A coach understands the individual in front of them and leads them to success on their terms.
This shift in perspective wasn’t instant. It took years of coaching real people, seeing what actually worked, and, more importantly, recognizing where my personal biases got in the way. This article is about what I’ve learned: that coaching isn’t about enforcing a specific methodology—it’s about meeting people where they are, guiding them with expertise, and making sure their version of success is the priority.
When Coaching Becomes About the Client, Not the Program
When I first got into coaching, CrossFit shaped my approach to training. It was a methodology built around high-skill movements like Olympic lifting and gymnastics, with a very specific outcome in mind: getting people proficient in these complex exercises.
At the time, I didn’t think much about why people were training. The system was the system. It worked. If you followed it, you got better at lifting, better at moving, and stronger overall. But over time, I noticed something: a lot of people weren’t actually achieving the goals they had when they walked in.
I’d see 30- to 50-year-old clients join the gym with clear objectives: feel better, lose body fat, gain strength, and move well for the rest of their life. And yet, six months in, they were worrying about foot position in the split jerk or obsessing over their hang snatch technique. Sure, they were improving in these skills—but was that what they originally set out to do?
That’s when I realized something important: there’s a huge difference between writing a program for a methodology and writing a program for a client’s purpose. Just because a system can deliver certain results doesn’t mean it’s aligned with what the client actually wants.
As coaches, we naturally influence our clients’ goals—sometimes in ways that don’t serve them. But the happiest, most successful clients aren’t the ones who get funneled into a rigid system; they’re the ones who efficiently reach their original goals. Then we can ask them what’s next. If that next goal happens to align with something I personally value—great. But it has to come from them first.
From Dogma to Purpose: How My Coaching Evolved
In my early years of coaching, I was dogmatic about strength. I believed lifting heavy was the answer to everything, and in my mind, lifting heavy meant constantly increasing numbers on the major compound barbell lifts. If you weren’t adding weight to your squat, bench, and deadlift, what were you even doing?
But over time, my definition of lifting heavy changed. Strength is still one of the most valuable things a person can develop, but what I’ve learned is that how we apply that strength is what truly matters.
Now, when setting goals with clients, I make one thing clear: there’s no wrong answer. Some people want to deadlift 300 pounds because they enjoy the challenge. Others just want to have the strength to pick up 300 pounds in daily life—even if they never actually test it. Both require lifting heavy, but the intended outcome matters more than the number on the bar.
Every exercise should have a purpose. The intention should be clear before we even pick up the weight, and we should define what success looks like—not just by numbers, but by whether the movement actually serves the goal. That’s the difference between coaching for clients and coaching for your own biases.
Coaching Is Communication: Balancing Wants and Needs
Balancing what a client wants with what they need comes down to one critical skill: communication. Just like a one-size-fits-all lifting program isn’t effective, a one-size-fits-all coaching strategy—especially in how we talk to clients—is just as useless.
As a coach, I might see a clear path to a client’s goal. I know what will work and how to get them there. But if I explain it in a way that I believe in rather than in a way that resonates with them, I risk losing their buy-in. And buy-in is everything. There are plenty of training programs that can yield results, but the most effective one is the one the client believes in—and that belief starts with how we communicate.
Take the classic example: A client comes in saying they want to “tone up” but don’t want to get bulky. I could roll my eyes and hit them with the usual speech—“bulky is really hard to achieve,” “you won’t accidentally wake up jacked overnight,” “toning is just muscle growth and fat loss.” And while all of that is technically correct, it’s the wrong approach. It creates a disconnect between coach and client.
Instead, I use language that makes sense to them. If they want to tone, I’ll talk about “muscular conditioning” and “lean muscle development.” If they’re worried about getting too bulky, I’ll make sure their calories are in check so they never feel like they’re on a mass-gaining plan. The program doesn’t change—I still write something that effectively helps them build muscle and lose fat—but the way I deliver it does.
That’s the key. The best coaching isn’t just about programming; it’s about meeting clients where they are, earning their trust, and guiding them toward success in a way that makes sense to them. That’s what real buy-in looks like.
Defining Success as a Coach: It’s About Connection and Results
Success in coaching isn’t just about writing great programs or having deep knowledge of training principles—it’s about connection and results. Coaching is a relationship, and like any strong relationship, success is built on trust and the outcomes we achieve together.
One of my favorite quotes about coaching is: “No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care.” That’s the foundation of everything I do.
At Grit Athletics, we start every new client with a goal-setting session where we quantify their goals—this ensures we can track progress in a way that’s measurable and clear. Then, about 30 to 45 days in, we do a goal review.
No program is plug and play, just like no relationship is plug and play. Coaching requires constant communication, constant evolution, and a willingness to adjust course when needed. That’s what makes a truly successful coach—not just delivering workouts, but delivering the right outcomes while keeping clients engaged and committed for the long haul.
Final Thoughts
Great coaching isn’t about forcing your own ideals onto clients. It’s about guiding them to their success—not yours. The more you listen, adapt, and communicate, the better results you’ll get, and the more impact you’ll have.
That’s what separates a coach from a trainer. And that’s what makes coaching an art.
