In life and in business, I believe in going all in on the things you enjoy and the things you’re good at. That doesn’t mean I ignore my weaknesses. I’m well aware of them, but I don’t spend all my energy trying to correct them. Instead I push harder into what I’m good at and look for external support on the things I’m not. It’s how most people build a career, a business, or anything worth having.

Fitness is the exception. If you want a body that stays capable for life, going all in on what you’re good at is one of the quickest ways to end up injured. I know, because I’ve done it.

What my strengths cost me

For years I was a good bencher, so I benched. I was never much good at squats, so I squatted a bit and moved on. I never really trained my glutes or my core in my twenties, because they weren’t the muscles I could see or the lifts I enjoyed doing. The result was a strong body sitting on a weak middle, and my lower back paid for it with two years of on-and-off sciatica.

Even the stuff I was good at caught up with me. I injured my shoulder, and the only reason I trained anything else for a while was that I had no choice. Once it was rehabbed I went straight back to pushing heavy, which says a lot about how I thought back then. Most of the injuries I’ve had came from weaknesses in specific areas, not from a lack of strength overall. It’s an expensive way to learn it.

The hard part is that it takes discipline

Nobody wants to train their weaknesses, myself included. You’re bad at them, so they feel slow and frustrating, and it’s much more fun to do the thing where you’re making progress. I understand that completely. But the lifts I avoid are almost always the ones I need most.

These days squats are part of my weekly routine, and so are my glutes and my core. The days of trying to achieve Ronnie Coleman lifts and squatting crazy weights are done. I’m still not a brilliant squatter, and I’ll probably never be, but I’m no longer using that as an excuse to skip them. If a movement feels awkward and unnatural, that’s usually a sign it’s the one worth spending time on.

But if you’re just starting out, enjoy it first

There’s one big caveat to all of this. If you’re new to training, the most important thing isn’t fixing your weaknesses, it’s turning up consistently. I believe the key to consistent training is enjoying it, and none of this matters if you never start or you quit after six weeks because every session felt like a punishment.

So while you’re forming the habit, it’s fine to focus on the areas you enjoy most. Lift the things you like, run if you like running, do the sessions that make you want to come back. Then, once training is a normal part of your week, start bringing the weaker areas in, a little at a time. Remember it’s what you do for years that counts, not what you do for days or weeks. The best programme in the world is no use if it’s the one you stop doing.

My weakness right now is mobility

I don’t want this to sound like I’m sat here on a pedestal, because I’m not. My biggest weakness is mobility. I’ve always found it boring and I’ve never done enough of it, which is why my shoulders have the mobility of a pane of glass. So I’m working on it now, mainly through handstands and animal flow type movements, which build mobility and strength together and don’t feel like a chore.

We all have a weak area, and that’s the point. The question is whether you know yours and are doing something about it, or whether you keep training around it.

Balance across the whole body

If you want to be capable for life, you need strength across all planes of movement, not just one machine moving one way. That’s why I recommend calisthenics to so many people. You move your body as one connected unit, and you can’t isolate one muscle and ignore the rest. You can get the same result lifting weights, you just have to be conscious about it. Build your training around the big compound lifts first, and then use accessory work to fill the gaps.

Specialising doesn’t give you that balance. Bodybuilding tends to build a great looking body that isn’t always a capable one. Heavy running and triathlon build the engine and neglect the strength. Even calisthenics, which I love, can leave the legs, the lower body strength and the mobility behind, depending on how someone trains. None of it is wrong, but each has its blind spot. What we want is a body that’s strong, fit and balanced. That’s not hybrid, that’s just being fit.

Balance over years, not over weeks

I still love the big lifts, and I’ve enjoyed building serious muscle earlier in my life. I still love the challenge of an endurance event, too. This summer my training was out of balance, with a lot more running than gym work. Now I’m tipping the scales back and putting more into the gym for the next few months. As the London Marathon gets closer next year, the scales will probably tip again.

That’s fine, because balance isn’t about every single week looking equal. It’s about what you do over a whole training block, and then over a whole year, and then over decades. Training is a lifetime commitment, not a 12 week plan, and the people who get this wrong are usually the ones who treat it as the second.

Train against what life does to you

Think about the rest of your life too. Too much sitting causes problems, and so does too much standing, so ask any hairdresser. Whatever your job is, it’s building weaknesses into your body every day. Good training should be rebalancing those things, strengthening the parts that your day switches off and loosening the parts it locks up.

So take an honest look at where you’re weak. If you’re a lifter, find out how you run and how you move. If you’re a runner, find out how you squat and how strong your core is. If you sit all day, look at your glutes and hips. Then go and do the thing you’d rather avoid, because that’s the one that keeps you capable for the next 30 years.

The hack: get a coach

If you want a shortcut, this is it. Remember what I said about business, that I look for external support on the things I’m not good at? It works in training too. My running coach has me doing runs I would never do on my own, long intervals, big mileage, tough paces. Left to myself I’d drift towards the sessions I enjoy and quietly skip the ones I don’t. But because I’m accountable to him, I get the job done. A good coach will find your weaknesses, build them into your plan, and hold you to it on the days you’d rather not, which is exactly what most of us can’t do for ourselves.