1st Phorm HQ

BusinessPhilosophy

May 17

Hey guys, it’s me again. The guy who somehow keeps ending up in conversations with people I don’t feel qualified to be in the same room with.

I recently had the chance to meet Andy Frisella.

If you know the name, you probably already have an opinion. He’s not exactly vanilla. Andy is a full-throttle, say-it-with-your-chest kind of guy. Polarizing? For sure. But fake? No chance.

We’re actually wired pretty similarly. Driven. Disciplined. Direct. The difference? I’ve got four kids and use the f-word a little less

But what stood out most wasn’t the delivery—it was the depth of alignment beneath it.

God. Country. Purpose. Ownership. Discipline. Legacy.

Those weren’t just words he said—they’re baked into everything he does. You can feel it the second you walk into 1st Phorm HQ. The place is immaculate. Everything has weight. And I don’t just mean the dumbbells (though I’ll get to those in a second).

Every detail is dialed in.

The branding. The energy. The culture. The mission. The way the team carries themselves. It’s more than impressive—it’s intentional.

The 1st Phorm gym is a perfect example. Every single weight on every single rack has the logo turned perfectly upright. Not as a one-time setup, but as an expectation. If you lift there, you know: that’s how it’s done.

It might sound like a small thing. But it’s not.

Because excellence isn’t just about big moments. It’s about what you do when no one’s watching. It’s about the things you could let slide—but don’t.

There’s a phrase I keep coming back to:

How you do anything is how you do everything.

And that phrase has never felt more true than it did walking through that building.

To some, it might seem militaristic. Extreme. Over the top. But to me, it felt like conviction. A decision to live on purpose, not default. A refusal to let apathy have the final say.

The older I get, the more I respect that.

We live in a world that loves convenience. We settle for “good enough.” We glorify comfort and call it self-care. But comfort rarely builds anything worth having. Growth isn’t easy. Discipline isn’t fun. Excellence costs something.

But it’s worth it.

And here’s the thing—I didn’t leave that meeting wanting to be Andy Frisella.

I left wanting to be better.

More intentional. More focused. More committed to the small stuff that no one else sees but makes all the difference.

And maybe that’s the takeaway here.

You don’t have to be loud to be disciplined.

You don’t have to be intense to be excellent.

You don’t have to shout to be strong.

But you do have to decide.

→ Decide to take pride in the details.

→ Decide to show up like it matters.

→ Decide to raise your standards, even when no one else will.