The Intuitive Player
Most athletic development programs rely on creating a closed system designed to serve predictable outcomes based on algorithmic progression. These models account for very little outside influence regarding day-to-day stress or the total allostatic load on the system. While this is the fundamental process most coaches learn as "programming," when applied to a completely open system (like the lives most of us actually lead), we get less-than-desirable effects.
Programming isn’t inherently bad—it is to performance what “Katas” are to fighting—it’s a nice exercise, it simply becomes illogical when you cannot control the variables. Unless I am living in a sporting dormitory with all my financial, dietary, and recovery needs perfectly met, I cannot commit to a 12-week program that "knows" precisely what I should do seven Sundays from now.
How, then, should we do it?
Intuitive training—or "mapping on the day"—demands a developed intuition that abides by a general rule: the player must be able to identify what "hard work" feels like, and they must know what intelligent work produces. This requires a familiarity with pushing past the average person’s hesitation, balanced by an overwhelming sense that training is not merely about self-punishment.
I refer to this as the balance between proving you’re not lazy and proving you’re not stupid.
It is a paradox. Each day is a test of one and the equal opposite of the other. If I decide to "go for it," I prove my drive, but I must also accept that I may be proving my ignorance. Conversely, pulling back proves intelligence but risks laziness.
No intuition can be trusted if its operator submits to a quitter's narrative. Likewise, no intuition can survive a self-destructive inclination. The balance must be earned through experience—specifically, the experience of achieving desirable outcomes from training.
To train yourself on the day requires an honest audit of the stressors that detract from adaptive output and compromise recovery. Consideration of sleep, diet, relationships, work, and decompression habits helps build an internal scorecard. This scorecard assists with the first step: Bifurcation.
The intuitive player does not use rigid schedules; they adapt to how they feel on the day. More often than not, the plan is to train every day. Rest days usually reveal themselves during the warm-up or while writing the plan. Bifurcation means to split—a proverbial fork in the road. I use this concept while moving through diagnostic or introductory movement patterns to assess my body. I quite literally ask myself: “Should I prove that I am not lazy, or prove that I am intelligent?”
This addresses one of the biggest obstacles in my own training: determining whether I am using training as an outlet (for physical, psychological, and emotional waste) or as an input (a way to change my behavior).
It goes without saying that despite my recovery status—and even when faced with more intelligent options—I sometimes choose the hard way. This is not "smart," and I would never advise others to emulate me, but I know that I benefit from the ability to prove my physicality on the days I feel I need to.
On days where I choose "poorly"—shout out to Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade—I select implements and exercises that reduce the odds of injury or lasting damage. The important part is that I feel what I need to feel, which is usually a sense of physical presence and capability.
The Selection Process
Once I choose a path, I select an energy system. Strength, Power, Strength Endurance, Aerobic Capacity, and Endurance are the most common, but I also utilize recovery options like mobility or "shakeouts" that allow for exploration without strict rules.
For a well-rounded GPP (General Physical Preparedness) program, a 10-day cycle might look like this:
1x Strength
2x Power
3-4x Strength Endurance
1-2x Aerobic Capacity
2x Endurance
This is first and foremost based on goals and limitations. It will change according to someone’s bias or what they have noticed makes them feel better. It should also be addressed that I train BJJ roughly 6/10 days as well and so my need for varying attributes is different than a pure gym player because many times I am not in control of the intensity when rolling.
Somewhere within the goal of 10 sessions in 10 days, you will likely need to make a concession. If I manage to train all 10 days, I will reflect on the quality and also probably take the next day our 2 to either fully recover or move easily. If I look back and see that I missed more than 2 days, I am getting my dose wrong or that the original decision to go hard on the day was likely incorrect. Deciding what is vital to maintaining your fitness becomes obvious when you are tuned in to how you truly feel and honest about your limitations.
Next, I choose a structure based on the time domain and intensity I am aiming for. Honestly, this step often answers itself. All these systems have optimal rep/set schemes or time requirements; I build the session based on how I want it to feel (you can read more about Session Structure here)
Finally, I select exercises that address my specific deficiencies and the criteria for the progress I want, measured against what I have done in the past few days and what I intend to do in the next few. Once the main portion is set, I backfill with a warm-up that matches the intention, adding mobility or dynamic work that supports the session.
This is the method I have used—for the most part—for the last 7 or 8 years.
For those wondering how to apply this inside a specific sporting task, here is the short answer. I use what I call the "Magnet Board" protocol.
If I have an event on an exact day with known physical requirements, I map out the sessions I believe will provide the requisite abilities based on preliminary testing. I write every theoretical session that would build these desired attributes on a card and place them all on the left side of the board.
Each day, I examine what feels like a good fit for my current status and mood. I complete that session and move it to the right side of the board. Some might think this makes progressive overload impossible, but it works because the prerequisites remain constant. If I need to run 8x800m at a specific pace, I must first possess the prerequisite abilities to hit those speeds. The same works with weightlifting except I would focus on the limitation of that specific lift on the day I feel it. The more intuitive you become, the more you understand your capabilities, and the sequence naturally works itself out. At the end of each week, I readdress and restructure based on the new data. Adding sessions that I think cover deficiencies or adjusting paces and loads that would make better sense for progression.
Training is complex. I won’t lie and say that applying this methodology will suddenly make you better. In fact, the odds are that this style of training will make you worse before it makes you better.
Intuition is developed by making mistakes, recognizing patterns, and changing variables; this is what inevitably develops the feel. Most people want a spoon-fed answer so they don’t have to analyze whether it "works" or not, but then they will never know the answer or what questions to ask. When they get generic or unpredictable results, they throw their arms up, assuming they just don’t "respond" well to training.
If you are jumping from program to program, stalled out, or feel that fitness has become a hollow routine, this structure could be the solution. It allows you to ask important questions about how you adapt to stress, helps identify patterns that reduce your progress, and gets you in touch with that ethereal feeling of knowing—a feeling that only comes to those who know themselves.
