Don’t Ask Me How I Train If You’re Not Willing to Suffer

By Jon Stone | Iron Resilience

I don’t train for fun. I don’t eat for taste. I don’t show up to the gym to catch up with you, and I’m not here to motivate anyone. I’m here for war.

So if you’re the type of guy who keeps asking how I train, what I eat, or if we can “hit a workout together”—but you never listen, never apply, and keep talking the same weak talk—you need to hear this:

Stop wasting both our time.

You’re Not Serious

Let’s get one thing straight. If you were serious, you wouldn’t be asking questions every week like this is a casual hobby. You’d be too busy doing the work. But you’re not looking for answers—you’re looking for validation. You want a shortcut, a secret, a buddy to hold your hand through discomfort.

There is no shortcut.
There is no buddy system.
And I’m not your mentor.

I Train Alone for a Reason

I don’t do gym partners. I don’t do group preps. This isn’t a field trip. My training is private, painful, and precise. I walk 45 minutes to the gym fasted, hit heavy compound lifts until the bar bends, and walk 20 minutes to work while my legs shake. That’s not a workout. That’s a ritual. That’s suffering, by design.

So when you say, “We should train together,” what you mean is, “I want to slow you down, talk too much, and take it easy when things get hard.”

No thanks. Find someone else.

I Already Gave You the Blueprint

I’ve told you what to eat. I’ve told you how I train. I’ve even warned you it’s not for average men. But you keep coming back like I’m going to change my answer.

“That sounds like too much protein.”
“I need my carbs though.”
“I don’t want to overtrain.”

Shut up. You’re not overtraining—you’re underliving.

If you didn’t follow the first thing I told you, don’t ask me for the second. I’m not here to repeat myself to guys who can’t even follow step one. You’re not serious. You’re just addicted to conversation, not transformation.

You Want What I Have Without Doing What I Did

You want discipline, but you don’t want sacrifice. You want muscle, but you don’t want pain. You want answers, but you ignore the hard ones.

You want what I built, but you don’t want to suffer for it.

That’s not how Iron Resilience works.
This isn’t cosmetic. It’s combat.
Every meal, every rep, every cold shower and early morning walk is a bulletproof layer over the soul.

Here’s What You Can Do Instead

Stop talking. Start doing.
Stop asking. Start applying.
Stop trying to join my path. Find your own.

And if you ever decide you’re ready to suffer, really suffer—then suffer alone. Bleed under the barbell. Cramp on the stair climber. Train fasted, train angry, and do it again tomorrow.

Iron Resilience

Discipline, Not Genetics

Don’t Ask Me How I Train If You’re Not Willing to Suffer