Meet Malcolm
Fitness is part of my life. It isn’t my whole life.
Outside the gym, you’ll probably find me doing theater, playing sports, spending time with my family, drinking mate, eating good food, or hanging out with our pets.
That matters to how I coach.
I don’t want the gym to become your life either.
I want what we do in the gym to help you live your life.
More strength. More confidence in your body. More freedom to keep doing the things that make you, you.
WHEN MOVEMENT WAS TAKEN AWAY
After a demanding theater contract, I returned to New York with severe pain in both knees. I was diagnosed with patellofemoral syndrome, and suddenly the things that had always been part of my life started becoming incredibly painful.
I stopped dancing. I stopped playing sports.
Even walking up a flight of stairs gave me anxiety.
I went from trusting my body to questioning who I was without movement.
Doctors recommended surgery, but before making that decision, I wanted to better understand why I was hurting and how my body was moving.
That changed the way I approached training.
Instead of asking,
I started asking:
FROM PUSHING THROUGH TO PAYING ATTENTION.
When I first started training, I heard it everywhere, especially on social media: “Brush it off. Push through it.” I thought if I kept working harder, eventually I would fix myself.
Instead of thinking my knees were the entire problem, I started learning how my whole body moved.
My training went from a “copy-and-paste-from-my-favorite-influencer” approach to something much more intentional. I learned the value of mobility, stability, coordination, strength, and movement patterns instead of simply adding more weight or pushing harder.
And somewhere along the way, my vision of fitness started changing too.
I stopped caring so much about what my body looked like and started caring about what it allowed me to do.
I wanted to feel strong. I wanted to move. I wanted my life back.
Little by little, things started changing.
I started moving with more confidence.
Then I started dancing again.
Then I started playing sports again.
But the biggest change wasn’t what I could do.
WHY I BECAME A COACH
As I rebuilt my relationship with movement, I saw my own struggles in others.
People afraid movement would hurt.
People who didn’t trust their bodies.
People who felt like they didn’t belong in a gym.
At 26, I remember staring at a flight of stairs thinking:
“Fuck. I can’t even go up the stairs.”
That experience changed what training meant to me.
It became less about how I looked and more about what my body could do.
That’s the coach I wanted to become.
Someone who helps people feel strong, move with confidence, and get back to the things they love.
The life outside of the gym
The biggest takeaway of my journey is that I don’t want the gym to be my life. I want the gym to help me live my life.
I still perform. I still love theater. I play sports. I spend time with my family. I love food.
I drink probably too much mate. And yes, sometimes I would much rather be on the couch with my wife and our pets than working out.
That’s the point.
I train because I want my body to keep up with all of it.
I want to step onto a stage and dance.
I want to play sports without constantly worrying about my body.
I want to travel and experience new things.
I want to be present with the people I love.
And I want to keep doing those things for as long as possible.
That’s what fitness means to me now.
