Comfort Training: A Different Way to Push Yourself in the Gym

I’ve started something I like to call comfort training. What is it, and why do I do it?

I was having lunch with a few friends, and one of them is a regular gym-goer, so naturally we got talking about training and fitness. We were discussing our different methods when she asked me about my thoughts on peptides. I told her, as I’ve written here previously, that I still need to do more research on them. However, I don’t like the way they are currently being promoted and portrayed.

From there, the conversation shifted to training methods. She asked how many times a week I go to the gym and what my overall approach looks like. She was genuinely shocked when I told her that I don’t really follow progressive overload in the traditional sense. Instead, I explained that I now train in a way I’ve come to call comfort training.

This approach came about after a difficult year and ongoing issues with several joints. I needed to find a way to train that still challenged me, but also allowed me to get through sessions efficiently and without causing further damage. I didn’t want to stop training, and I didn’t want to feel like I was going backwards, but I also couldn’t continue pushing in the same way I used to. So comfort training was born out of necessity.

At its core, comfort training is about pushing yourself within a controlled level of comfort. It’s not about taking it easy, and it’s not about avoiding effort. It’s about being intentional with how you apply that effort. For me, that means completing my sets and reps with a moderate weight, maintaining good volume and control, and then pushing slightly beyond that with a heavier set when it makes sense. There is still intensity there, but it is measured.

One of the ways this plays out is in how I structure my workouts. For example, I don’t always push the weight numbers on squats anymore, and I no longer place them at the start of my leg day. Instead, I perform them later in the session. By the time I get to squats, my legs are already fatigued, which allows me to use a more moderate weight while still getting a strong stimulus. If I were to start with heavy squats, I would need to go all out from the beginning to get the same effect, and that’s not something my knees can handle consistently. Comfort training allows me to work around that without losing effectiveness.

Another important part of this approach is not pushing myself to complete exhaustion every session. I still train hard, but there is a clear line. Over the years, I’ve lifted some good weight without relying on supplementation or shortcuts, but I’ve also had to reset multiple times recently due to joint pain, muscle fatigue, and general burnout. That experience has taught me that constantly pushing to the limit isn’t always the smartest way forward. A third effective element is supersetting exercises you wouldn’t normally superset, but due to the increased intensity, you can be effective with a more moderate weight on both.

The reality is that I genuinely enjoy training. It’s a comfort for me in general. I enjoy what it does for me physically, but even more so what it does for me mentally. The structure, the discipline, and the carryover into everyday life are what make it so valuable. Because of that, I want to keep it sustainable. I want to keep showing up, keep progressing in my own way, and continue getting the benefits that training brings.

After explaining comfort training to her, I walked her through my full leg day. Her response was simple: remind me never to train legs with you. I wouldn’t last the first few exercises, she exclaimed. That pretty much says everything. Comfort training isn’t easy, it’s just more considered.

In the end, being able to adapt doesn’t mean you stop pushing yourself. It means finding the best way to get the most out of your training based on where you are right now. For me, that’s comfort training.