Before you move on, I want to let you know that Dean Somerset and I have just put our flagship program, the Complete Shoulder & Hip Blueprint, on sale this week. You can buy CSHB 1.0 and CSHB 2.0 separately this week at 30% off with the coupon code EVOLVE at checkout, or grab the bundle for the best value.
Getting Strong(er) Is Corrective
Oh, I’ve got a client story for you. Not long into an initial assessment, a new client tells me their previous trainer said they had a winged scapula, a left hip that’s internally rotated, and poor posture. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead nodded, listened, and reminded myself to stay calm and focused.
People think they’re broken
It’s amazing how many folks fixate on tiny postural details and then tell me about a so‑called “corrective exercise specialist” they worked with. I don’t dismiss their experiences, but it’s hard to listen at times. They’ll describe months (or years) of training that’s heavy on positional breathing drills, postural stretches, and a foam‑rolling routine that could fill a long documentary. Then they’ll ask, “Did you actually ever follow a real strength program consistently?”
The truth is, as an industry—and I’ll own this too—we’ve helped people feel like fragile, flawed beings who must fix everything before they can train. It’s our fault. Strength coaches, trainers, physical therapists, athletic trainers—we’re all part of the problem. We can and should do better. And it starts with remembering our real role as fitness professionals: to elicit a training effect for our clients and athletes.
Getting Strong(er) Is Corrective
Strong is a moving target. To me, strength can mean many things: deadlifting 2x bodyweight, doing 15 pull-ups, walking home with groceries without dropping the bags, or even just wearing white after Labor Day and pulling it off. Since I’m biased toward training, I’ll define getting stronger here as getting better at training—lifting heavy things and progressing safely.
Many people have been led to believe weight training is dangerous. It’s everywhere online, in certifications, and in conversations with some professionals. The reality is that properly loaded and progressed squats and deadlifts do far more to support recovery from injury than many alternatives when used correctly.
I’m tired of the “everything makes you dysfunctional” crowd. If you think lifting weights is dangerous, try being weak. Being weak is far more dangerous. That’s why I advocate getting stronger and helping people build a trainable menu that fits their goals and abilities.
Rather than listing what’s wrong with someone, use the initial assessment and the training plan to highlight what they can do. Take the classic “computer guy” posture—rounded shoulders, forward head, a habit of fidgeting with a pen. Many trainers will unload a laundry list of stretches, mid‑back mobility drills, and other corrective routines and then shame the person for not sticking with them. That approach can feel punitive and is easy to fall into.
I’m not against corrective work, but when it dominates a program, it can kill motivation and progress. No one gets excited about more thoracic spine extensions. I don’t want my clients to feel like perpetual patients; I want them to train, to feel empowered, and to see real progress.
A powerful drill to nudge thoracic extension into a training context is the kipping pull-up. Front squats are another excellent option—when you descend, you’re forced to fight to stay upright. If you don’t maintain thoracic extension, the bar can roll off your shoulders. In other words, that movement becomes self‑coaching and a natural corrective.
I may come across as blunt, but I value training that clearly shows progress and aligns with a person’s goals more than endless corrective exercises. Get your clients stronger. Show them what they can do. And for the love of training, keep them moving forward. Maybe you’ll get a little extra joy from Dean’s new puppy, Bruno.
Shout-outs to fellow coaches for keeping the craft honest.
