Avyaansh, This Is Why I Train.

Avyaansh,

You're three years old as I write this. You won't read this for a long time. Maybe fifteen years from now, maybe twenty. But when you do, I want you to understand something about your father that might not make sense to you yet.

I train every single day. Not most days. Every day. Even when I'm tired. Even when it's raining. Even when I don't feel like it — especially when I don't feel like it.

People think I do this for Instagram. For the photos. For the likes. They see the handstands and the backflips and they think it's about showing off. It's not. It has never been about that.

I train because of you.

When I was in the Navy, I met men who were 45 and broken. Bad knees. Bad backs. Couldn't run a kilometer. They'd been strong once — maybe in their twenties — and then they stopped. Life got busy. They had kids. They let it go. And by the time their kids were old enough to play cricket in the yard, these men were too stiff to bowl.

I refuse to be that father.

When you're ten and want to race me, I want to be fast enough to make you work for it. When you're fifteen and learning a sport, I want to be fit enough to train with you. When you're twenty and need someone to trek with in the mountains, I want to be the first person you call.

And when you're thirty and I'm sixty, I still want to be able to throw a ball with you in the park. I want to carry your children on my shoulders the way I carry you now.

That is why I train.

There's another reason, and it's harder to explain.

The body is the first frontier, beta. Before money, before career, before relationships — there's the relationship you have with your own body. If you can't discipline yourself to move, to eat well, to sleep enough, to take care of the one machine you'll own for your entire life — then nothing else will hold together.

Discipline in the body teaches discipline everywhere. When I hold a handstand for sixty seconds with my arms shaking, I'm not just training my shoulders. I'm training my mind to stay when everything in me wants to quit. That skill — the skill of staying — transfers to everything.

Staying in the market when stocks crash. Staying at the desk when the code doesn't work. Staying in the relationship when things get hard. Staying when it's easier to leave.

Your body teaches you all of this. But only if you train it.

The body is not separate from the mind. They are the same thing, expressed differently.

I know that when you grow up, there will be pressure to look a certain way. Social media will tell you that you need abs, big arms, a certain physique. Ignore that noise. Train for what your body can do, not what it looks like. A handstand is worth more than a six-pack. A strong back is worth more than big biceps. The ability to move freely, without pain, into your old age — that is the real goal.

I started at 58 kilograms, Avyaansh. Skinny. Weak. I couldn't climb a rope in the Navy. I threw up after obstacle courses. Nobody looked at me and thought, "That guy will be doing backflips at 37."

But I didn't stop. That's the only secret. I didn't stop.

One day, you'll find the thing that makes your body come alive. Maybe it's calisthenics, like me. Maybe it's swimming, or martial arts, or climbing, or something that doesn't even exist yet. Whatever it is — commit to it. Not for a month. Not for a year. For life.

Your body is a gift. The only one you don't get to exchange. Take care of it fiercely, consistently, and without excuses. And when your own son asks you why you train every day, you'll have your own answer ready.

Go be great.

— Your Dad