One hundred Mondays in a row!

If I’m being honest, I never assumed this would last this long. Motivation is an easy game at the start of any meaningful pursuit. You have ideas. Energy. Direction. The work feels obvious, almost automatic. You show up, execute, and tell yourself you’ll just keep going.

Then time passes. Life fills the margins.

Just like anything worth doing, consistency eventually gets tested. There are weeks when the ideas flow, the writing comes easily, and the habit feels ingrained. And then there are weeks when nothing cooperates. Work gets busy. Travel eats the hours. Personal life pulls at your attention. Motivation disappears. You start wondering why you committed to this in the first place.

That tension - the gap between starting and continuing - is where most things quietly die.

Which is why this milestone matters to me more than the number itself. There have been great weeks of this newsletter. There have also been weeks where I was finishing it late Sunday night, hitting send just hours before Monday morning. Not every issue was inspired. Not every word was perfect. But for 100 straight weeks, it showed up.

I’m not here to pat myself on the back. I’m here to reflect. To look back on what the last 100 weeks taught me, what I’m grateful for, how this has shaped me, and where I hope to take it next.

Most of all, I want to say thank you - for showing up here, for reading, and for letting this small weekly ritual be part of your life. My hope has always been simple: that something you read here helps you think a little clearer, train a little harder, or approach your days with a bit more intention.

This is a look back. And a quiet commitment to keep going.

If you’ve been here since the beginning, you already know this story. But it’s worth revisiting, because the reason The Superset exists hasn’t changed.

Like a lot of people who end up here, I’m a personal development content junkie. I love reading. I love podcasts that challenge how I think. I love fitness content. I’m genuinely interested in how to live a better, more fulfilling life. But as much as I consumed, something always felt fragmented.

The fitness world was narrowly focused on the gym and the kitchen. The personal development and career crowd obsessed over mindset and ambition, often ignoring the body entirely. And the reading corner of the internet (while well-intentioned) often treated books as collectibles rather than tools. Everyone was optimizing their lane. Almost no one was connecting the dots.

When I looked honestly at my own goals - and more importantly, my own failures - the pattern was obvious. These areas were never separate. They were always influencing each other.

I’ve gone through seasons where I read everything, listened to every podcast, and felt mentally sharp, while my body was completely out of shape. I’ve had stretches where training and nutrition were locked in, but I wasn’t reading anything at all. And then there have been periods (the ones I’m always trying to return to) where all three were working together. Without exception, those were the times I felt the strongest, clearest, and most grounded.

That’s when the idea clicked. Progress doesn’t come from optimizing one slice of the pie while neglecting the rest. It comes from integration.

I started The Superset because I knew I wasn’t alone in that realization. There are a lot of people who care about thinking clearly, training hard, and continuing to learn, but don’t want to compartmentalize their growth.

In the gym, a superset combines movements to increase intensity and maximize output. This newsletter was meant to do the same thing. A place to start the week with intention. To consider the full picture. To build simple systems that move us incrementally toward a better version of ourselves.

That was the goal then. It still is now.

I mentioned it earlier, but it’s worth saying plainly: even with all the structure, ambition, and surface-level momentum behind this newsletter, there have been plenty of weeks over the last 100 where I’ve questioned why I keep doing it.

Yes, The Superset has generated some sponsorship dollars over time, and I’m grateful for the brands that have trusted it - Morning Brew, Athletic Greens, Momentous, and others. But this was never built to be a revenue engine. If money were the goal, there are far more efficient paths.

What keeps me coming back is something harder to measure.

At some point, most people realize that beneath every goal - career, fitness, status - we’re all chasing the same thing: purpose. Viktor Frankl called it Man’s Search for Meaning, and the longer I live, the more I believe that’s the real game underneath everything else.

For a long time now, I’ve lived my life, both publicly and privately, trying to develop myself. And along the way, I’ve been given small opportunities to help other people do the same. When I look back, those moments; quiet conversations, unexpected messages, someone telling me they took action because of something I shared, stand out as some of the most fulfilling experiences I’ve had.

That’s the anchor during the harder weeks.

This newsletter will never top “biggest lists” in any category. But if even a handful of people keep coming back here and find something that helps them think more clearly, train more consistently, or take a first step they were avoiding, then this is already worth it to me, regardless of what it ever earns.

I keep going because I know what it feels like to be out of shape and uncomfortable in your own body. To avoid mirrors. I know what it’s like to be buried under work stress, quietly wondering if you’re on the wrong path. I know what aimlessness feels like when you stop learning from people who are ahead of you, or who’ve survived what you’re going through. I know the tension of wanting professional success without sacrificing your personal life. I know the frustration of knowing something needs to change, but having no idea where to start.

I’m not an expert in any of this. That’s the point. The Superset isn’t written from the top of the mountain. It’s written from the middle of the climb. For people who are trying to build momentum with practical, imperfect, repeatable actions.

So when the gym feels hard before progress shows up. When chicken and rice loses to DoorDash. When the book sits next to the TV remote. When writing would be easier to skip.

I come back to the same rule I use everywhere else, inspired by Alex Hormozi himself: have more reasons to keep going than reasons to quit. Because if you don’t quit, you don’t lose.

2026 is right in front of us. Let’s keep taking the next rep together.

The biggest misconception I had about writing when I started The Superset was that clarity would come first. That I’d sit down already knowing exactly what I thought, and the writing would simply be transcription. The reality has been the opposite. Clarity has almost always come after I started. The act of writing - of forcing a half-formed thought into sentences - has been the thing that revealed what I actually believed. Waiting to feel “ready” was never the move. Starting was. Just like reading. Just like lifting. Just like dieting.

That carried into confidence in a way I didn’t expect. Not a performative confidence. The quieter kind that comes from keeping promises to yourself. Every Monday issue became a small vote of trust deposited into my own account. Confidence has never been built by big wins or public praise, but by showing up when it would’ve been easier to skip. A hundred weeks of that frankly changes how I view myself as a writer and author of this - not just on the page, but everywhere else.

What surprised me most was how much structure unlocked freedom. Writing the same sections, on the same cadence, week after week didn’t make the work stale, it made it sharper. Constraints removed friction. I didn’t have to decide whether I’d write, only what I’d say. Discipline didn’t suffocate creativity. It gave it a framework to live, and an expectation for you the reader, on what you would hopefully receive each week.

Individually, no single issue mattered all that much. Miss one, and the world would have kept spinning. But when the thought of finally taking a break would keep in, I felt this obligation to myself and to you all to get it done. This was never an aha moment, but what I have pulled from that in other areas of my life outside of this has been pretty profound. Why keep going? I’ll tell you. You owe it to yourself, or to someone. You owe your future self the deposit in the bank of going to the gym to be healthier and more confident. You owe your brain the peace of mind and clarity you receive from turning off the digital world to turn the page of a book. You owe your family the right to see what the best version of their husband - dad - brother - child is.

And finally, writing became a mirror. One that reflected more than I sometimes wanted to see. Inconsistent thinking. Contradictions. Blind spots. Writing in public has a way of exposing the gaps between who you say you are and how you actually live. It forced honesty. And in that discomfort, growth followed. I am far from perfect. I have days and weeks where I don’t read enough still. I have periods where my diet starts to fall of the tracks. I never really miss the gym, but I certainly have weeks where I am going through the motions. But that’s just it, the important thing is continuing to go through said motions. To ensure that what I say in public is being backed but what I do in private.

A hundred weeks itself didn’t make me smarter. But it made me clearer, steadier, and more honest. And that accountability framework is worth its weight in gold.