“I got the flu. Three weeks of work — gone.”
You tell the coach you're sick. It changes voice. The plan is paused. The journal asks how you're feeling, not how far you ran. When you're actually ready — not just unfeverish — it eases you back in.
Most fitness apps hand you graphs and walk away. This one stays with you — through hard weeks, sick weeks, race weeks, and the in-between. A coach that knows what tomorrow looks like, in your language, not bytes per second.
60 seconds. No card. No lectures about TSB.
Feet under you. Build the engine. Long run is the one that counts this week.
"Legs felt heavy on the warm-up. Settled in by mile 3. Long run tomorrow — keep it conversational."
Fitness software has decided that you want a wall of charts. We don't. We think you want a coach who remembers what you said last week — and adjusts when life moves the goalposts.
A goal isn't a straight line. The app reads where you actually are this week and changes how it talks to you.
You tell the coach you're sick. It changes voice. The plan is paused. The journal asks how you're feeling, not how far you ran. When you're actually ready — not just unfeverish — it eases you back in.
Race-day fitness is hard-won and easy to lose. The app keeps you moving — short runs, strength, sleep — while you decide what's next. No empty dashboard. No prescribed grind.
Pick the goal. The coach drafts the block. The journal logs how it's actually going. The dashboard shows you where you are — in your language, not bytes per second.
A focus is a goal in plain language — "first century ride", "sub-3:30 marathon", "stay strong through winter". The coach turns it into a block, the dashboard shows you where you are inside it, and the voice adapts as you move through it.
Most weeks: easy + easy + tempo + long. Don't hero the midweek session.
Woke up with a fever. Skipping the long run. Frustrated — week was finally clicking.
Oh that sucks. We're flipping modes. Recover first. Then a couple of rebuild days at conversational pace. We'll resume the plan when "ready to train" actually looks like ready to train — not just absence of fever. I'll tell you when.
Two lines after a run. A note that you slept badly. "Got the flu." The journal feeds the coach so the next week's plan reflects the real you — not the version that exists in the data.
When you do want a chart, you build it the way you'd describe it: pace against heart rate, easy runs only, last ninety days. Pin it. Stop digging for it. The dashboard becomes yours.
If you've been talking to Claude about your training, you already know what this is like — only now the conversation has years of activity history, your weekly goals, and the journal entries you've been keeping. Sign in once. Your coach picks up where you left off.
We're not done. We'd rather you try it, tell us what's broken, and shape what comes next. Sign up now and your account stays free even after we turn pricing on.
One goal. One question: what does ready-to-show-up look like? We'll figure out the rest of the week together.