06/10/2026
I’ve wanted to quit social media more times than I can count.
Sometimes I log on, scroll for five minutes and think:
F**k me. This is bad.
An exercise discovered yesterday is suddenly the secret to elite performance.
Complex problems get reduced to:
DO THIS. NOT THAT.
And whoever communicates with the most certainty wins.
Some days I genuinely wonder whether I want to participate anymore.
Then I remember something.
There’s an entire generation of coaches whose first classroom is social media.
Before they read the book, they’ll see the Reel.
Before they speak to an experienced coach, they’ll hear the influencer.
Before they’ve developed their own filter, an algorithm is deciding what ideas they’re exposed to.
So if experienced coaches decide social media is beneath them, we don’t remove the bad information.
We just leave the space to it.
And eventually our profession pays the price.
Coaches pay it.
And ultimately, athletes and clients pay it.
Because ideas become decisions.
And coaching decisions have consequences.
That’s why I’m still here.
I don’t want to use social media to become good at social media.
I want to use it to demonstrate what good coaching looks like.
Question things.
Explain nuance.
Show my work.
Share frameworks.
Change my mind when the evidence tells me to.
And hopefully give another coach a better starting point.
It’s also why I invest so heavily in long-form work.
Emails.
Blogs.
YouTube.
Podcasts.
Books.
Manuals.
Because some ideas deserve more than seven seconds and a trending audio.
I’m not interested in teaching coaches to chase likes.
I’d rather help them chase a vision.
Develop a philosophy.
Stand for something.
Build a body of work.
Have a message worth repeating for the next decade, rather than a hook that works for 48 hours.
Social media isn’t the body of work.
It’s the doorway to it.
So I’ll probably open Instagram again tomorrow and think:
F**k me. This is bad.
But I’ll keep contributing.
Because if the people who care about the standard leave the conversation…
we shouldn’t be surprised when the standard drops.