Mike Started Lifting at 42 and Hasn't Looked Back

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I’m going to be straight with you: when I turned 42 last year, I was in the worst shape of my life. I’m an electrician, so people assume the physical work keeps you fit. It doesn’t. It keeps you tired and sore, but it doesn’t keep you fit. I was 98kg with a 40-inch waist, I couldn’t touch my toes, and walking up two flights of stairs left me breathing heavy.

The wake-up call came at a routine check-up. My doctor told me my blood pressure was high, my cholesterol was heading the wrong way, and if I didn’t make changes, I’d be on medication within a year. I was 42 years old and being told my body was breaking down. That scared me properly.

Why I finally started

But it wasn’t really the doctor that got me moving. It was my kids. My daughter is nine and my son is seven, and they’re at the age where they want to play constantly — football in the garden, bike rides, swimming. And I couldn’t keep up. I’d kick a ball around for ten minutes and need to sit down. My son asked me to race him to the end of the street and I had to pretend I wasn’t interested because I knew I’d be gasping after twenty metres.

That was the moment. I was too young to feel this old. My kids deserved a dad who could keep up with them, and I owed it to myself to sort it out.

Starting from zero

I’d never set foot in a gym. Never lifted a weight. The closest I’d come was carrying heavy cable reels on site. A younger lad at work had been training for a while and he used PT Tracker. He sat with me at lunch one day and helped me set it up, input my details, and start the beginner strength programme.

The first session was humbling. I couldn’t bench press the barbell on its own without wobbling. My squat depth was terrible. I didn’t know what a deadlift was. But the app showed me every movement with clear videos, told me exactly what weight to use (which was embarrassingly light), and took all the guesswork away.

I told myself I’d go three times a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Non-negotiable. I wrote it in the family calendar and my wife held me to it.

The nutrition wake-up call

Two weeks in, I started using the food tracker. That’s when the penny dropped. I was eating over 3,000 calories a day without even trying. Bacon sandwich for breakfast, meal deal for lunch, massive dinner, biscuits with tea, a few beers most evenings. It was staggering when I saw it written down.

I didn’t do anything drastic. I swapped the bacon sandwich for porridge. I packed lunch instead of buying meal deals. I cut the weeknight beers to weekends only. I started hitting roughly 2,200 calories with 140g of protein. The app made it easy — just scan the barcode and log it. Within a week it became second nature.

The weight started falling off. Two kilos in the first fortnight. Then about a kilo a week for the next couple of months. By month three I was down to 88kg and my trousers were falling down.

Finding my groove

Somewhere around month four, something shifted. I stopped dreading the gym and started looking forward to it. The weights were going up every week, I could see changes in the mirror, and I had more energy than I’d had in years. The lads at work noticed. My wife noticed. My kids definitely noticed — I was chasing them around the garden without getting winded.

By month six I’d finished the beginner programme and moved onto the 12-week body recomp. This was more structured — four days a week with a specific focus on losing fat while building muscle. The app adjusted my calories and macros for training days versus rest days. It felt like having a coach in my pocket.

The gym became my thing. After twenty years of coming home from work and collapsing on the sofa, I was coming home, getting changed, and heading to the gym. My wife said it was like living with a different person.

The numbers

After twelve months, here’s where I ended up:

Weight down from 98kg to 83kg. Waist down from 40 inches to 33 inches. I went from being unable to bench press an empty barbell to benching 80kg for sets of five. My squat hit 100kg. My deadlift hit 130kg. My resting heart rate dropped from 82 to 58. My blood pressure is normal. My cholesterol is in a healthy range. No medication needed.

But the number that matters most isn’t on a scale or a barbell. My son asked me to race him to the end of the street last month, and I won. He was furious. It was the best moment of the whole year.

The accountability group

I roped three of the lads from work into training about four months in. We set up an accountability group through the app. Every session gets logged and everyone can see it. If someone misses a session, the group chat lights up. It sounds like peer pressure, and it is, but it’s the good kind. None of us want to be the one who skipped.

We’ve started a bit of a movement on site, actually. There are about eight of us training now. The gaffer had to put a rule in about not talking about protein intake during work hours because it was getting out of hand. I took that as a compliment.

What I’d tell other blokes my age

Stop making excuses. I had all of them — too old, too busy, too tired, bad back, bad knees, don’t know what I’m doing. Every single one of those excuses evaporated within the first month. The app tells you what to do. You just have to show up.

You don’t need to be young. You don’t need experience. You don’t need to be fit to start getting fit. I was a 42-year-old electrician who couldn’t touch his toes, and within a year I was in the best shape of my life. The only thing I regret is not starting sooner.

My doctor said I’ve added years to my life. My wife says I’m happier than I’ve been in a decade. My kids have a dad who can keep up with them. And I’ve got a hobby I genuinely love for the first time since I stopped playing five-a-side in my twenties.

It’s not too late. It’s never too late. Download the app, start the programme, and give yourself twelve months. You won’t recognise yourself.