The 5 Pillars of Wellness (for People Who Don’t Have Time for Wellness)

by a trainer who still drinks too much coffee and eats food they shouldn't in the car

Let’s get one thing straight before we dive in: I don’t have it all figured out. I train people for a living, and I still lose sleep, forget to stretch, and contemplate the meaning of life while stress-scrolling at midnight. So this isn’t a lecture. It’s a guide. A loosely sarcastic but deeply sincere breakdown of the "5 Pillars of Wellness"—and how you can actually use them without turning into a self-help cliché.

And yes, if you're local to Alton or curious about what we do at my private studio in the Historic Milton Schoolhouse, details are below. But for now? This one's for you, your brain, and your living room.

1. Body – Not a temple. More like a fixer-upper you occasionally remember to clean.

You don’t need a fancy gym or 90-minute routines to care for your body. Try this:

• Five squats every time you go to the bathroom. That’s it. By the end of the day, you’ll have done more than most.

• Put your phone on the floor across the room. Get a mini mobility moment every time you reach for it.

• Try the “floor test.” Can you get up from the floor without using your hands? If not, that’s your goal. Functional movement > mirror muscles.

Your body doesn’t need punishment—it needs consistency. And maybe a little compassion. Like a houseplant. But one that sweats.

2. Mind – The overcaffeinated mess that powers your existence.

You don’t need to be Zen. You need to be aware. Try this:

• Name your thought. Literally say: “That’s a worry about the future.” Naming the category helps your brain stop spiraling.

• Use the 3-2-1 rule. 3 slow breaths, 2 feet grounded, 1 intentional action. (This works great before replying to texts from emotionally chaotic people.)

• Avoid the news before bed. Unless you enjoy marinating in dread overnight.

Your brain is like a puppy. It doesn’t need scolding—it needs training and snacks. Mostly training.

3. Mood – Your emotional weather. Unpredictable. Uninvited. Unbothered by your plans.

You can’t force a good mood, but you can nudge it. Try this:

• Mini rage walks. 5 minutes. No music. Just stomping around the block like you’re mad at the sidewalk.

• Cold water on your face. It’s not a mood cure, but it will jolt you out of the doom scroll for 30 seconds.

• Write the “unsend” message. Journal the thing you want to say but know you shouldn’t. Burn it, shred it, or bury it in the Notes app graveyard.

Moods pass. Let them. Just don’t let them drive.

4. Social – Not just parties. Also: eye contact with another human and maybe a real conversation.

You don’t need a squad. You need a few solid humans and some honest connection. Try this:

• Text the person you miss but keep forgetting to reply to. Start with “This isn’t an apology. I just miss you.”

• Host a "no clean-up needed" hangout. Chips, floor seating, no pressure.

• Say “I hear you” more than “Here’s what you should do.” Unless you’re asked. Then fire away.

Social wellness isn’t about being liked. It’s about being real. And sometimes, awkward.

5. Purpose – The existential cherry on top.

Purpose isn’t some grand calling. It’s the quiet stuff that makes you feel like a human instead of a task rabbit. Try this:

• List what made you feel most alive in the last week. One thing. That’s a clue.

• Do something badly. Paint, sing, write. The point is joy, not skill.

• Volunteer or help someone with no strings. Nothing feeds purpose like being useful on purpose.

Purpose grows when you stop chasing “success” and start noticing what actually feels worth your time.

So, where do I come in?

I’m a coach who helps people build strength and sanity in real life—not fantasy life. At my studio in Alton’s Historic Milton Schoolhouse, I use science-backed training and real-world behavior coaching to help you put these five pillars into practice. No preaching. No pushing supplements. Just support, movement, and a space where you can breathe.

You bring your mess. I’ll bring the structure.

And if you made it this far, you're already doing the hardest part—paying attention to yourself. That counts.

Let’s build something together.