About Me/My Story

My name is Taylor Chambless. I am a personal trainer and health + fitness coach. I do my personal training operations out of Meta Fitness Studio in Birmingham, Alabama. I coach online to my athletes and others that are on their fitness journey, wherever they are in the world.

Here’s how I got here:

I grew up in the small town of Lynn, Alabama. I was always an active kid. Growing up in the country we didn’t have much but we had space and time. I started playing sports in Kindergarten starting with basketball and baseball. I was fast but I wasn’t very good, I liked being silly and making people laugh more than anything. One time in basketball my coach told me to put my hands up on defense in which I stuck my thumbs in my ears, wiggled my fingers, and stuck my tongue out

I began to take sports a bit more serious by 5th grade, I kinda had to because it was my first time playing football. Yet again, I wasn’t very good. This time because I was smaller and weaker than most of the team. I got hurt at practice a lot and didn’t play much but I kept trying because all of my friends played and I wanted to play alongside them. My dad was the head coach, thankfully I had him encouraging me and helping me at home to practice and get better. 5th grade sucked but with dad’s help and doing a bunch of pushups, bodyweight squats, lunges, passing/catching/running drills, etc. I did better 6th grade year. I actually got to start and was making some plays. The big thing this time was I was holding my own physically. Now 7th grade… was a real canon moment. This will tie in later.

7th grade was the last year before Junior Varsity for my class. However our school being so small we didn’t have enough JV players to have a team so the best guys in my class moved up to dress out and/or play JV. The talent shift instantly made it so I could potentially be the “star” player so hell yeah I was pumped lol. Those guys that moved up started working out in the school weight room after classes and I was like '“I gotta go too or I’ll get smoked when I go up next year” so I did. I remember my first day in there our strength coach, Coach Jones, tested our strengths and abilities. I remember benching 55lbs for my first max I was so relieved I could at least bench the bar because one kid used to get made fun of because he couldn’t. I remember dad being pumped about me going to the weight room and asking me all about it (now mind you my dad is an all state QB and huge bama football fan he does not play about football) and was hyping me up it was so awesome. Coach Jones was also heavy in my corner, he really helped me get much stronger between our workouts and him telling me “You’re getting stout! Gotta EAT EAT EAT man you gotta put weight on!” and he was right so I did. I loved coming home telling my mom and dad about the progress I was making and they could tell I was loving it. I was doing pushups and sit-ups at the house constantly if I wasn’t at the weight room. Because of this they got me, honestly, perhaps the best gift they could ever have gotten me…

For my birthday they had gotten me a weight set for the garage. It was a Marcy brand bench that was fit with a plate loaded knee extension and prone hamstring curl attachment along with 300lbs of weights (bar, two 45lb plates, two 35’s, and so forth to 2.5’s. There was also 2 dumbbells with adjustable weights that could make both up to 25 lbs each or one dumbbell loaded up to 50. This paired with some rotating pushup handles, a doorframe pull-up bar (so underrated), and a jump rope I was in ecstasy. Dad already had a pool table in there had this huge radio system that could rotate through like 15 cds and he had wired up some surround sound so it was the place to hang out. I used to just go out there when everyone went to bed and shoot pool by myself and listen to all of his albums. Some of my fondest memories of my youth was hanging out in the garage and now it had my new found love for weightlifting in it too so now it was me benching with my dad with the radio turned up playing all of his fav classic rock albums. Guns-n-Roses (my fav), The Eagles (dad’s fav), AC/DC, Def Leppard, Metallica, all of it.

By the time football season came around, all of the power cleans, squats, benching, lunging, hamstring curls, and everything else I was doing along with my eating like crazy and making these insane weight gainer shakes I put on some weight and got much stronger. I did end up kicking ass on the team. I got to start QB and Linebacker and dad was head coach. I was running over dudes, hitting jukes, stiff arms, making tackles, throwing darts, and all the cool stuff my buddies that moved up to JV were doing. Now mind you it’s not like I was constantly just making big plays but the fact any of it was happening at all was sick and I was getting a lot more confident about how when I get to JV I finally will have caught up with my more athletic friends. To make this shorter: The season went well we made 2nd round playoffs I think, I did good, dad was the coach, we watched a lot of film together (mom recorded all the games), and the garage kicked ass so it was a really great time. I kept the working out going through basketball and baseball season and then when spring practice for football came around I was ready.

8th grade seemed promising, I had gotten stronger and better which was showing in practice. To make this shorter: I was killin’ it the first few few practices. Only one big problem… we were scrimmaging 2 days before spring games, I was outside LB about to tackle the pitch to the RB on my side and I got earholes by my buddy Ben. He rung my head and I was dizzy to get up and when I pushed up it felt like I’d dipped my arm in lava because welp I landed on my wrist and nearly broke it in half. Now this was pretty crazy, with 85% of my wrist broken the doctors pretty much said thats a clear surgery (pins and screws) so eventually I get put under for surgery, they set the bones to do the surgery and the surgeon was like “woah wait… this might heal on it’s own” he told me that when I woke up. Sure enough 8 weeks in a full arm cast and 4 in a half cast it did. He said he’d never seen a definite surgery heal like that in his decades of practice. He dubbed it “the miracle wrist” so I guess I can add ‘medical anomoly’ to my resume. Any ways I spent all summer pissed off in a cast doing leg extensions and hamstring curls. I took off the season to strengthen my arm back up to bounce back for 9th grade. Worked out through basketball and baseball season again and got back to form. Even stronger in my legs this time which honestly is an athletes best asset in my opinion. Again, this all will tie together soon stay with me here.

9th grade, last year of JV rolls around. It’s spring practice, again my more athletic friends had moved up to dress out with the Varisity team because again our school was too small and they didn’t break their wrist so they got to play and earn the move up. De Ja Vu to 7th grade but I knew I’d show out in Spring and join them. That’s what happened too. Kicked ass in practice and was the only one with a touchdown and interception in the spring games. Nice. So I worked out over the summer with the Varsity team with my friends and it was bruuuutal. But we survived. Then this: First practice of the fall I did like half of it JV half of it varsity. We practiced and we hit a lot for like 2 hours it was nuts. Weather was bad, we get moved into the locker room but coach says don’t take off our pads because if it isn’t lightening we’re finishing up with the Oklahoma Drill (look it up if you don’t know). It didn’t so we did. We go back out and the older guys were all playing meanwhile I’m chillin’ behind everybody tired ready to go home. After 10 mins or so Coach Jones says “one of you young guys run the ball” and again me and CJ were tight so I knew he was gonna pick me. He did and I was like “no dude they’re all 12th grader I’m gonna die” see assured me I wouldn’t. I ran once, got met in the middle, pumped my legs, got tackled. He said it was good and to do it again. I did only this time I got dogpiled and when i hit the ground the ball rolled so hard in my arms against the ground and hyper-twisted my arm and I heard a loud SNAP and knew it. Yep, broke my forearm. Just 1 bone this time. I was pissed cussing up a storm and they kinda wrapped up practice after that. Dad walked me to the car o go o the ER and I was like “this sucks football is stupid I’m never playing again” and he’s like “ok ok I don’t blame you just chill please” and yeah got numbed, got set, got a cast, and chilled with the team the rest of the year.

The constant build-to-falling-to-comeback-to-fall-to-comeback-etc. cycle to that point had burned me out on sports so bad I decided to quit. My parents said ok but if you aren’t going to play sports you’re gonna get a job. Another canon event. I was 15 so I was able to get my workers permit and soon was working Saturdays at the lumberyard my dad works at. Here’s one of the only pictures I can find of me in my lumber days:

What a stud. This is a period where I veer off quite a bit and this is getting long so let me sum up some of the key moments of high school: 10th grade I started hanging with a new group that started because they had ways to get cigarettes and also pain pills. I was able to smoke these cigs and take these pills because the way our little school was set up we had 2 classes: advanced and standard. Advanced aptly took a more advanced curriculum than the standard class but we all got the same diploma at the end. I was in the standard because my friends all were. The standard class in the mornings we’d go over to the neighboring town of Double Springs and attend classes at the Winston County Technical Center which was like trade school. Automotives, welding, business, and more. I was in electronics the first semester. Only thing about that semester was our homeroom teacher hardly ever checked if we were there so either I or some of my friends and I would stay at my house after mom left for work and we’d chill, smoke, pop pills, or whatever and head back to school when they got back. I did this for maybe 96% of the semester and finished with a 7. In the class. 7/100. My parents set me straight after that. They didn't know I was messing with pills I just told them I was skipping to play xbox. That’s when I touched the stove and found out it was hot so no more pills. I kept the cig habit though. Next semester I went to welding and I passed. Ok so I think I’ve built enough preface let’s zoom through 11th & 12th.

Last 2 years of high school the standard class had an option to get in this “co-op” program that had me taking the advanced classes core classes in the morning and I got to leave at 12:30 to go to work. I got Tech Center credits for hours worked. I only needed 20 per week sometimes I’d get 12 of it on Friday night and 8 of it Saturday morning and I would just get out of school early. That 4 hours of free time was usually spent smoking a spliff (tobacco and weed joint) and playing xbox the rest of the day or hanging with my friends. Sometimes I would just work a lot because i also liked having money. Money I would blow on clothes, smoke, and food. I saved enough for community college though. But basically working and chilling was all I did mixed with bad habits. By the time graduation came I had no clue what I wanted to do. My parent’s stayed on my ass about it I eventually just asked the valedictorian guy what his plans were. He said PTA (physical therapist assistant) and he said how long it took and how much they made and I said huh, doesn't sound like a bad idea so that became what I was going to do. My mom asked what I wanted to do and when i told her i wanted to become a PTA and move to Hawai’i she laughed and asked “why Hawai’i? You’ve never even been” and I said “I can be a PTA in humid or freezing bug ridden Alabama or a PTA on a beach in Hawai’i”. Fair enough.

So now we’re at another defining era: Community College. Ah yes, Northwest Shoals Community College (Phil Campbell campus). What a time. So with this half hearted PTA pursuit I started taking my basic classes the maths, biologies, English/writing, the works. A few weeks into the first semester was me adjusting to college. I had a 45 min drive to get there I’d smoke 1-4 cigs on a given trip. Also I didn’t go to college with any of my friends that I graduated with. Most went straight to work or went to other colleges. I found out I wasn’t good at introducing myself to make new friends I’d always kind of made new friends by being around my other friends. Also I was single at the time and there was a girl in my biology class I thought was cute. I kept working at the lumberyard through college too was sitting in my truck on my lunch break one night thinking over a cigarette about how weak my approach skills were. Then I got to breaking down how I’m approaching I’m like ah man I probably reek of smoke to all these people. What if they hate me? What if they talk about me? Shit like that lol but it sent me into a bit of a shame cycle. I threw my cig down. Took a sip of my big ass coke and then I’m like man this is gross too which also led to me being disgusted at the empty grease stained paper burger king bag. I threw it all away and told myself “yeahhh I’ve gotta change. I’m 19 now what is this going to get me when im 29? Do I want to be knocking on 30 having smoked half my life? Am I going to be 30 years old eating nothing but fast food, toaster strudels, dr pepper, and frozen pizza? Will I have a health problem by then? It freaked me out and I went home and planned out a change.

I had a feeling that changing all of my bad habits at once wasn’t a good idea. Smoking seemed like half the battle. I switched from smoking cigs to vaping them. Vaping had just started really being a thing. My idea going in was “ok I can at least stop staining my teeth, stinking up myself and my truck, no butane or keeping up with lighters, more discreet” blah blah all that and it seemed like a good replacement to eventually ween off of while I got re-accustomed to lifting weights, doing cardio, and eating better. Over the course of a year I kept getting better and was proud of myself. I went from 2x a week in the gym to 3x to 5-7x in just a few months. There was a guy that worked at the gym, Daniel, who was a personal trainer on the side, super jacked dude and strong as hell. I asked him to write me a meal plan and I was training off of Athlean-X youtube workouts and eventually his online programs. Over the course of a year I was making some noticeable gains and getting my confidence up. The only thing was I never really kicked the vaping it actually progressed lol. Initially it was these rechargeable Blu brand vape cigs that were shaped and functioned like a cig. $50 set up and like $15 for a 5 pack of the nicotine carts they lasted me roughly a week and they only had like 4 flavors. Ultimately I mention all of that say because of the ecig I wasn’t stinky for a few months but I broke the charge pack and was on my way to get a replacement and I stopped at the Wavaho gas station in Haleyville, Alabama and got me shiny new vape pen that was 6 times the size of my ecig because it was $20, the vape juices were like $10, and they had maybe 30+ flavors. I’m a sucker for trying all of the flavors of something I like. A few months with that pen but they kept leaking and breaking so I went to an actual vape store and the guy convinced me into a “box mod”. Yeah the big one that the dudes doing vape tricks use. I wasn’t that guy but I did have the thing. I was really in for it because the vape store had tons of flavors such as the space themed ones that drew me in and vanilla wafers flavored one they even had custom in house mixes you could make. It was super lame but I kinda got into it lol. There’s a point to this, again stay with me. If you’ve made it this far shout out to you.

With all of that in mind, first year of college was a building period for me. Getting used to having to take life serious, take my future serious, my image, and my health it all became a big journey and I felt great that I was on the right path. After about a year into this journey I started mingling back with my old friends again. I stopped hanging around because I was preoccupied with school, work, and my health journey I also was staying away from alcohol. When I drank I craved cigarettes and I didn’t want people seeing me vaping that corny box mod so I just kinda kept my focus on my goals and just enjoying my time getting there. Fast forward a year later football season rolled around and I missed being around game day parties. This also was peak Nick Saban era too. I got back in my rowdy ways a bit drinking, smoking, and eating any and everything but I left it to just the big deal bama games. However one day about half way through the season I was on my way to Jasper to get beer and food. On the way we were behind a car going maybe 60 and they abruptly slammed on their brakes to not hit a dog. Richard slams his brakes, I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt or paying attention and slammed into the windshield/dashboard. No car collision and the dog was fine but damn that hurt. Now this is the beginning of another part where life got bad again.

At the time the dash slamming didn’t bother me I was just sore from the impact for a couple days. I went back to the gym a few days later and I was doing pull-ups. On the way down on maybe the 2nd rep of 2nd set I felt a “pop” around what to me felt like my left collarbone which was weird and then my left hand started feeling hot. Strange sensations I’d never felt before so I called it quits and went home. I had a tingly cold/hot feeling in my fingers about 30 mins or so after I left the gym. I took a day off from gym and nothing really changed those symptoms remained or worsened depending on if I was driving, sitting, how I moved my arm, how heavy something was, etc. but 2 days after the weird pop I walked into the gym and started warming doing my elbows for bench with tricep pushdowns and when I finished my first light warm up set my left hand felt like it was swelling (it wasn't) and it freaked me out. My mind starts wondering what it could be. What freaked me out was the recency of one of my dad’s closest friends had a heart attack. Days before the attack he complained of his left arm bothering him.