From CEO to 6am Instructor: My Seven-Year BodyPump Journey

I qualified as a Les Mills BodyPump instructor in winter 2017, whilst running ScreenCloud through its most intensive growth phase. For seven years, I taught hundreds of classes, from packed Saturday morning sessions to solo Zoom workouts during lockdown. This December, I retired from teaching on my own terms, proud of what I'd achieved and the community I'd built.

This isn't about work-life balance or finding zen. It's about what happens when you throw yourself into something new whilst already running flat out.

The Breaking Point

By 2016, I'd become everything I'd promised I wouldn't: unfit, stressed, and completely consumed by work. ScreenCloud was scaling, we were focused on the American market, and I was working six or seven days a week. Most evenings too, thanks to US time zones.

I'd always been sporty. Hockey at Dulwich, team sports throughout university. But that had gradually disappeared. The transition from sporty person to stressed-out founder happened so slowly I barely noticed. Until suddenly I was carrying extra weight, feeling burnt out, and something had to change.

Becoming a Regular

I started attending BodyPump classes at the end of 2016. By mid-2017, I was going three times a week. More regular than some of the instructors. The appeal was simple: for one hour, I could switch off. No phones, no Slack, no board decks. Just me, the barbell, and whatever track was playing.

I kept to myself initially but got to know the instructors. That summer, I went to a Les Mills event. One of those high-energy fitness conferences that shouldn't appeal to introverted tech founders. But something clicked. When they announced an instructor training programme and one of the instructors I knew said, "Come on, you can do it," I thought why not.

The Training Reality

Here's what nobody tells you: to become a BodyPump instructor, you first need to qualify as a personal trainer. So there I was, taking a week off from running a startup to do an intensive Level 2 fitness qualification with people mostly half my age, all looking for entry-level gym jobs.

I was about as old as the instructor. Everyone else was starting their fitness careers; I was running a tech company. People thought I was having a mid-life crisis.

The initial training weekend was tough. You're learning choreography, timing to music, reading the room, coaching techniques, all whilst trying to execute perfect form yourself. Your brain floods with information. But that's just the start. You then have eight weeks to practice in real gyms with real people.

Those eight weeks were brutal. You shadow other instructors, teach a couple of tracks in their classes, make mistakes in front of paying members. All that teenage awkwardness comes back: "Who am I to tell anyone about fitness?"

The final assessment was one take, full class, on video. No second chances.

First Class

I got my qualification notification in the afternoon. That evening, an instructor I'd been training with messaged: "Can you cover my class tonight?"

I arrived an hour early, listened to the music on repeat, checked the equipment three times. When 7pm came, I was teaching my first professional class, completely solo. During the cool-down, I admitted it was my first official class. Someone thought I meant my first class ever. The buzz afterwards was incredible.

Seven Years of 6am Wake-Ups

At my peak, I was teaching seven classes a week across David Lloyd and other major gym chains in London. My master coach, Denise, had told me: "To become great, you need hours and hours of practice. You need to stop thinking about yourself and start thinking only about the people in front of you."

She was right. You learn to teach to different motivations, different fitness levels, different moods. The front row wants to be pushed hard; the back corner needs encouragement; the new person needs clear cues without being singled out. You can't just teach to your tribe.

New releases come every three months. New choreography, new music, new coaching notes. I prided myself on never making mistakes, even with brand-new material. I'd spend hours perfecting my mixes, getting the technology setup right, making sure the experience was professional.

The Transformation Moment

I developed a ritual. In the changing room: splash cold water on my face, clip on the microphone belt, adjust my top. That was the transformation. From Mark the stressed CEO dealing with funding rounds and product launches, to Mark the instructor who was going to give you the best hour of your day.

The people in my classes had no idea what my day job was. They didn't know about board meetings or burn rates. I was just Mark who taught BodyPump. That anonymity was brilliant.

The COVID Pivot

When gyms shut in March 2020, I pivoted to online classes within days. Set up professional lighting, multiple cameras, proper audio. The full production. I taught hundreds of Zoom classes from my living room, building a community across time zones. People joined from America, Ireland, all over Britain.

We had a Facebook group, regular challenges, a proper community getting each other through lockdown. It felt like giving something back during those strange months. Though nothing matched the energy of a packed studio.

The Hard Classes

Some classes tested everything:

• Teaching the morning after making redundancies at ScreenCloud, having to be upbeat when I felt awful
• Coming straight from Heathrow after a red-eye from San Francisco, completely jet-lagged
• The days when imposter syndrome hit hard and I wondered what qualified me to stand at the front
• Equipment failures, someone fainting, fire alarms mid-squat track

The Community

The regulars became friends. Saturday mornings brought exhausted new mums needing a break. Wednesday evenings had the after-work crew burning off office stress. Each person on their own journey. Weight loss, strength, mental health, community.

They'd ask when I was travelling, who was covering, when I'd be back. I became part of their routine. Some members became actual friends outside the studio. One even became an angel investor in a later venture.

Teaching Fit vs CEO Fit

There's fit, and then there's teaching fit. When you're demonstrating perfect form whilst talking, counting, correcting, and motivating for an hour, multiple times a week, you need another level of conditioning. It forced discipline: proper sleep, nutrition, recovery. No late-night sessions before early morning classes.

This discipline helped everything else. CEO life became more structured. Energy management became crucial. You can't fake it at 6am. Authenticity at that hour is mandatory.

The Advanced Journey

I didn't stop at basic certification. Advanced instructor training pushed into coaching psychology, biomechanics, advanced cueing techniques. It placed me in the top tier of UK Les Mills instructors.

The lessons translated directly to business: understanding different motivations, reading room dynamics, maintaining energy when you're exhausted, creating inclusive environments where everyone succeeds.

The Exit

By 2024, with ScreenCloud's exit process intensifying and travel increasing, I could feel my standards slipping. Not dramatically. I was still good. But not at the level I demanded of myself. My fitness was harder to maintain at teaching level.

I retired at Christmas 2024, on my own terms, knowing I was still a quality instructor. Seven years, hundreds of classes, thousands of members coached. I walked away proud.

What I Learned

People ask if teaching fitness whilst running a tech company was a mid-life crisis. Maybe. But I see it differently. I'm always learning. Whether that's coding, AI, or fitness instruction. The coaches I learned from were incredible people, the best at what they do.

Through teaching, I met people I'd never encounter in tech: different backgrounds, ages, nationalities, careers, life stories. The gym studio is democratic. Everyone's equal in front of the barbell.

Group fitness is more than exercise. It's community, mental health support, shared struggle, collective achievement. The Les Mills programme is brilliant at creating this. If you're thinking about instructing, do it. The benefits go beyond fitness.

The Parallel Lives

For seven years, I lived two parallel professional lives. Tech CEO by day, fitness instructor by dawn. Neither knew much about the other. This separation wasn't about balance. It was about having somewhere to succeed when the other was struggling.

Bad day at ScreenCloud? Nail the evening class. Tough morning teaching? Sort the afternoon board meeting. Two different scorecards, two different ways to win.

Final Thoughts

I miss it already. The 6am alarm was brutal, but the buzz of teaching a great class was addictive. Seeing members transform, building a community, being part of people's routines. These things mattered as much as any business metric.

Will I go back? Maybe. For now, I'm proud of what I achieved. Seven years, advanced certification, hundreds of lives impacted. Not bad for someone who started out just trying to lose some founder weight.

If you're ever in a BodyPump class and the instructor seems surprisingly comfortable with public speaking and oddly good at reading room dynamics, there's a chance they might have another life outside that studio. And that's exactly how it should be.