Let’s get this out of the way: the name is ridiculous.
Skinny Bitch Fitness. For a men’s fitness brand. Founded by a guy who weighs 250 lbs. If that doesn’t make sense to you yet, good. Sit with it for a second.
Done? Cool. Let me explain.
This Isn’t What You Think It Is #
I’m not a fitness influencer. I don’t have a coaching certification, a supplement line, or a single photo where my abs are visible. I have a bathroom scale that I bought at Target, a yoga channel on YouTube, and a spreadsheet where I log every meal, every workout, and every weigh-in. The spreadsheet is the most important piece of equipment I own.
This brand exists because I got tired of the fitness industry selling me transformations while hiding the process. Every “what I eat in a day” video is a highlight reel. Every before-and-after photo has strategic lighting doing 90% of the work. Every supplement ad promises results that only come from doing the thing they never want to talk about: just showing up, consistently, for a long time, even when it sucks.
So here’s my counter-offer. I’ll show you everything. The good weigh-ins and the bad ones. The days I hit every macro target and the days I demolished a Blizzard from Dairy Queen and logged every calorie of it. No filters. No $200 supplement stacks. No “rise and grind” motivational garbage. Just numbers, honesty, and a guy trying to lose weight one boring day at a time.
So What IS a Skinny Bitch? #
A skinny bitch isn’t a body type. Read that again if you need to.
Being a skinny bitch means you’ve made a decision. You’ve decided to stop lying to yourself about what you’re eating. You’ve decided to move your body every day even when you’d rather not. You’ve decided that the number on the scale is just data, not a judgment, and you’re going to track it either way.
You can be a skinny bitch at 160 lbs. You can be a skinny bitch at 260 lbs. I started this journey at nearly 250, and I was a skinny bitch from day one, because I showed up.
Everyone is a skinny bitch. That’s the ethos. That’s the whole thing. If you’re doing the work, you’re in the club.
The SBF Method #
There’s no secret. There’s no program to buy. There are four pillars, and they’re free.
1. Cut the Poison #
I was drinking Diet Coke like it was water. Multiple cans a day, every day, for years. It was the first thing I reached for in the morning and the last thing I had at night. On December 15, 2025, I stopped. Cold turkey. I’m still counting the days.
Quitting soda was the first domino. It wasn’t the biggest change calorically, but it was the hardest habit to break, and breaking it proved something to me: I could actually do hard things if I decided to. Every day without soda is a quiet little victory that reminds me what willpower feels like.
2. The Streak #
Exercise every single day. Minimum 10-15 minutes. That’s the rule.
Some days it’s a solid 30-minute yoga flow. Some days it’s wall pushups at midnight because I almost forgot. The point isn’t intensity, it’s consistency. A streak doesn’t care if you looked impressive. It only cares that you showed up.
At 250 lbs, wall pushups still counts as moving 250 lbs. A 15-minute walk is still 15 minutes you weren’t sitting on the couch. The bar is deliberately low because the secret of a streak is that it compounds. Day 1 is easy to skip. Day 30 feels like something you’d hate to lose. Day 90 is a lifestyle.
3. Eat Like You Mean It #
1,800 calories. 140-160g protein. 25-35g fiber. Every day.
This isn’t a crash diet. I’m not starving myself. I’m eating real food, tracking what goes in, and trying to hit three numbers. The protein is actually the easiest one for me, which surprises most people. The fiber? The fiber is my nemesis. Getting 25 grams of fiber into a day without eating an entire bag of broccoli is a genuine skill I am still developing.
The math works out to roughly a 400-calorie daily deficit, which should produce about 0.8 lbs of weight loss per week. In practice, I’m losing closer to 1.9 lbs per week, which tells me my body had some things to sort out. The numbers don’t always make sense. You track them anyway.
4. Show Up and Track #
Every number goes in the dashboard. Every workout. Every meal. Every weigh-in. No exceptions.
The 3,500-calorie Dairy Queen day? It’s in there. The week the scale went up instead of down? It’s in there. The morning I weighed in lighter than I’d been in months? Also in there, right next to the day I ate my feelings.
The dashboard doesn’t lie. That’s the entire point. If you only track the wins, you’re running a marketing campaign, not a fitness journey. Accountability isn’t selective. You log it all, or you’re just telling yourself a story.
Why This Exists #
I started SBF because I couldn’t find a fitness brand that felt honest. Everything out there is selling you an outcome without showing you the messy, boring, repetitive work it takes to get there. I wanted something that said, “Here’s a guy who weighed 250 lbs and decided to change, and here’s literally every single data point from his journey, including the bad days.”
This isn’t a program to buy. It’s a journey to follow. Every number is real. Every stumble is documented. The weight goes up some weeks, and I publish that too.
If that sounds like something worth following, welcome. You’re already a skinny bitch. You just have to decide to act like one.