THE INTERVIEW is a new department: one man, one protocol, no editing him into a better person. We print what he actually does — including the parts he knows are ridiculous. Names redacted, routines in full.
Who are you, roughly?
Thirty-four. I train at six in the morning because it's the only hour nobody can schedule over. Push-pull-legs since forever. I'm not big. I'm consistent, which photographs worse but ages better.
Walk me through the morning.
Alarm at 5:20. I don't negotiate with it anymore — the negotiation was the problem for about a decade. Electrolytes in water while the kettle does its thing, creatine in the same glass because if it has its own step I skip it. Gym at six. Protein when I'm back, in the shower window, because if I sit down first the morning develops opinions.
What's the oldest thing in the routine?
Creatine. Twelve years, five grams, every day including my birthday. It's the only supplement I've never had a crisis of faith about. Everything else has been on and off probation.
What got fired?
BCAAs — turns out eating protein covers it, who knew. A greens powder that cost more than my gym membership and tasted like a lawn's regret. Test boosters in my twenties, which did nothing except make me the kind of person who talked about test boosters.
What surprised you?
Fibre. Nobody sells you fibre at twenty-five because there's no romance in it. Then one day your digestion becomes a scheduling factor and suddenly it's the most important scoop on the shelf. I resent how well it works.
Skin. Be honest.
For years my entire skincare was 'shower.' Now: a proper bar, a body butter for elbows, knees and the tattoo, and something for the shaved areas so they don't file a complaint by Tuesday. Below-the-neck maintenance is real maintenance. The face gets a routine; the body used to get an apology.
What would you tell the six-years-ago version of you?
Stop buying single miracle products and pick a system you can run when you're tired. The routine that survives a bad week is the only one that counts. Also: the fibre thing. Skip ahead on the fibre thing.
Run your own protocol — start with three questions.
