What if human performance isn’t changing — it already changed?
Every so often, the ground shifts beneath our feet, and we only notice once we’ve crossed the fault line. That’s how the human performance industry feels right now. What used to be called a “strength coach” became “S&C coach,” and now “human performance professional,” “specialist” or “director.” The job title got bigger, and so did the scope. We moved from coaching strength training (i.e. lifting weights), to conditioning for game-day readiness, to… everything. Recovery. Sleep. Cognition. Hormones. Force-time curves. Load monitoring. Leadership development. Culture building. It’s not just more, it’s a lot. And I’m not sure when or if we stopped to ask what all that more is actually doing for us and the people we support. Being in this field for over 40 years has been long enough to see the arc from physical education to exercise/sports science to complex systems modeling. From Douglas bags in the lab to force plates in high school weight rooms; from physical literacy to tech and data literacy. If I’m being honest, it feels like we’ve been riding the wave, but not always steering. We’ve experienced this incredible convergence of disciplines: physiology, psychology, biomechanics, neuroscience, data science, even sociology. Add in wearable tech and computing power that can capture every breath, step and spike, and now the job doesn’t just require deep knowledge – it demands range. But range without reflection can get noisy. For several years I’ve struggled with: Are we evolving… or just chasing? Are we getting better… or just busier? Are we hedgehogs focused on core truths or foxes sometimes darting after every shiny new thing? I’m not sure if we need to be more like hedgehogs or foxes right now. Maybe both, or maybe just more honest about when we’re being one or the other. “Old school,” not “just old” I think “old school” is sometimes confused or mistaken with “just old.” And there’s a difference. Old school, as I’ve experienced it from both sides, is rooted in ground-truth experience – people who were there in the earlier days when principles were still being forged, in the lab and on the field. That kind of thinker and practitioner brings something you can’t teach quickly – not just pattern recognition, but a lived sense of what matters and what doesn’t. But here’s what really defines the best of this generation: in the best cases, we know our own biases. We’ve earned a worldview through experience, but we’re willing to update our judgment when new information makes it necessary. That’s not being stuck in the past. That’s Bayesian thinking before we had a name for it. At the same time, I’m impressed and motivated by what newer, science-forward professionals are bringing. The resolution can be sharper, the calibration is improving, and the feedback loops are tighter. When we ask the right questions, we can learn faster, and on a larger scale. What concerns me is when the technology or role title comes first, before the question or the mission. Expertise matters, but so does cross-talk. Sometimes the smartest move is to know where you are, and grow by working with those who see things differently. Old school isn’t just old. It’s earned perspective and updated with awareness. New centers of gravity One thing that feels different now is how many new centers of gravity have emerged in the human performance conversation. Data is one of them. But so is recovery. So is cognitive performance. So is longevity. What used to be peripheral topics or afterthoughts are now front and center in conference talks, podcasts, program briefs and team meetings. And it’s not that these things don’t matter – they do. The question is whether we’re making them meaningful or just making them louder. With data, you see the extremes: some professionals latch onto anything that can be measured, assuming that metrics equal mastery. Others reject it outright, relying on feel, pattern recognition, and an earned skepticism of hype cycles. Still others sit on the sidelines, blaming the systems of academic, commercial, or institutional for being out of touch or solely profit-driven. But the real tension isn’t whether these topics matter. It’s whether we know how to extract signals from noise and what to do with either. Tech, data, and complex systems thinking are like a kettlebell: in the right hands, with the right mindset and timing, it’s a powerful tool. In the wrong hands, it’s just a doorstop. Where to apply focus The smartest move we can make as professionals is to just stop and take a breath (and yes, breath is now a topic of research, debate and commercial packaging too). Really pause for a moment. Ask yourself three questions: What do I love doing? What am I good at? And what can I make a good living at? If all three line up, great. But in my experience, that’s rare. The hard part is being brutally honest with yourself and then asking someone you trust to be brutally honest with your answers too. Because here’s a truth: we can’t all be SMEs in everything. But if we each choose a couple areas to dig deeply into and stay aware of the adjacent disciplines that support our work, then we can do something even more valuable: We become people who recognize first principles, collaborate well, and build trust across the ecosystem. That’s one quality that makes a good teammate. And good teammates are the foundation of any high-performance system, not just data sets or job titles. Where’s this all heading? Honestly, I’m not sure. I think the better question might be: How are we showing up while it’s all happening? If you’re feeling overwhelmed by it, good. That might just mean you’re taking it seriously. In fact, if you’re not overwhelmed from time to time, I’d argue you’re probably not working hard enough on your craft. Slow it down. Ask questions. Reach out to someone outside your lane. Leave a comment. Email me directly. Push back if you disagree;
Dad, athlete, coach leads human performance at BeaverFit
Many athletes never transition to the world of coaching; of those who do, even fewer make a transition from coaching to academia, and again, even fewer from academia to the private sector. Chris Frankel, who has done all three, with a lifetime of accompanying experiences and lessons learned on his unique journey, was the obvious choice to lead human performance innovation at BeaverFit. One of Frankel’s strongest skills is “being able to walk into any environment – whether 5th grade PE, with professional athletes, at initial entry military training, or in a room full of PhDs – and have a relaxed conversation without having to code switch too much. It’s the same challenge, different environment,” he said. Frankel, who holds a doctorate in physical education with an emphasis on sports and exercise science, jokingly calls himself a “mediocre athlete” with a “dismal athletic career,” but it’s clear his early influences helped shape the trajectory of his path to success. Growing up in the Washington, D.C. area, Frankel attended Sidwell Friends private school where he ran track, and played soccer, football and basketball. He continued as a college athlete at Hiram College, Ohio, as part of the Presidents’ Athletic Conference championship football team and a standout in track and field. Unlike most athletes his age, Frankel also became closely involved with coaching these sports. Through summers spent under the wings of influential coaches such as Eddie Saah, recognized by the Washington Sports Hall of Fame for 16 consecutive youth baseball championship wins, and Dan Riley, former strength and conditioning coach for the Washington Commanders, Frankel developed an appreciation for the art of coaching and gained experience working with athletes at all levels – from middle school softball to basketball players en route to the NBA. He recalled that “learning the back-end of coaching was fascinating, because being just the player or athlete is so much different than understanding how to manage everything together.” In his mid-20s, Frankel moved to Los Angeles where he took a job at an upscale fitness club, and eventually a personal training gig at Gold’s Gym. He became immersed in the world of elite bodybuilders and their coaches, continued doing 5Ks and track meets, and worked hard enough at basketball to be able to play on the A court at Venice Beach. “If anybody asked what made me successful, it was just trying to be a sponge of everything,” he said. “I spent 90% of my time assuming I’m the dumbest person in the room. What can I learn from every athlete and every coach? What can I learn from every person I’m working with? And 10% of the time, I put pen to paper and action everything I’ve learned up until that point.” The Los Angeles scene took its toll after a couple years, so Frankel relocated to a quieter life in New Mexico, met his wife and began his master’s degree at the University of New Mexico. He entered the physiology and statistics-oriented exercise science program as a sociology undergrad and was big-timed by his peers once they realized he wasn’t from a science background. “And with the chip on my shoulder, I thought, not only am I going to do well in this class, I’m going to do better than all of you,” he recounted. He earned his master’s and went on to pursue a doctoral degree. What he didn’t expect at the time was that it would take 23 years to complete, as he raised a family and continued to work multiple jobs in the fitness, coaching, and high performance training industries. Chris Frankel and children The Frankels representing Dad’s team in hostile territory Frankel and his wife Georgia have five children, including two who were adopted, and a son-in-law, and are known for their big hearts as they frequently open their home to others facing hardships such as unemployment, family issues or financial difficulties. During the recession in 2009, they had 12 people living under one roof. “The time it took to earn my PhD turned out to be a blessing, because it forced me to stay on top of the science for 23 years, and be able to have conversations with a bunch of PhD propeller heads as we went to conferences or as I sat in on lectures,” he said. “At the same time I was still coaching, so I had two different worlds of showing up, coaching, training, and also learning about what’s going on in the deep physiology side of things.” During part of those two decades, Frankel worked as a trainer for professional golfer Notah Begay III – and went from knowing nearly nothing about golf to accompanying Begay on tour and during private practice rounds with Tiger Woods. Frankel continued to be a sponge, soaking in every experience and opportunity. “This role with Notah helped me realize that all these things I know about strength and conditioning and coaching – it’s not sports-specific. I could take it anywhere I wanted to go, and layer on top all the stuff I was learning in school,” Frankel said. From there, Frankel took a job in the commercial fitness industry with TRX and helped stand up their training and education side of the business. Through a twist of fate, his 13 years working there led him to cross paths with fellow TRX teammates Alex Roodhouse and Michael Taylor, before the two split off to found BeaverFit North America. Through their respective roles, Frankel and Taylor were involved in the early stages of the Marine Corps High Intensity Tactical Training program, and thus began Frankel’s exposure to training tactical athletes. “I thought – from a teaching, coaching, and programming standpoint – not only how do I train the end users in the tactical population, but how do I train the coaches to then turn around and coach these tactical environments?” he recalled. Chris Frankel instructs an early iteration of the USMC HITT course Chris Frankel tests kettlebell form under