Every plan a coach hands a client is a prediction. If you eat this way, train this way, sleep this way, your body will respond like that. Coaches don't always say it out loud. Clients don't always hear it. But the prediction is there.
If it's a prediction, it can be wrong.
That's the part most coaching erases. The plan gets framed as a recipe — follow the steps, get the result — instead of a hypothesis the body either confirms or refutes. When the client doesn't change, the coach blames adherence. When the client changes in the wrong direction, the coach blames the test. The hypothesis is rarely allowed to fail.
The Radar exists to make the prediction visible.
Three capacities — Regulate Energy, Recover From Stress, Preserve Functionality — and a small set of biomarkers that read each one. A coach proposes an intervention. The Radar already knows what should change if the intervention is working. Twelve weeks later, the body has answered.
Sometimes the answer is no. That's not a failure of coaching. That's coaching doing the one thing that separates it from advice.
Karl Popper called this the line between science and everything else: a claim is scientific if it forbids something. I will lower your fasting insulin forbids a future where it stays the same. I will improve your metabolic health forbids nothing — the words can be redefined after the fact. The Radar is built so the words can't move.
This is what biomarker-based means here. Not that the numbers are sacred. That the numbers are checkable. They're the part of the system that won't let the coach off the hook.
I'm trying to do for coaching what Greg Glassman did for fitness in 2002 — write down a definition that's testable enough to argue with. These notes are the field record of that work in progress.
If you came looking for certainty, you'll find less of it than the marketing of this category suggests. What you'll find instead is a set of claims I'm willing to be wrong about, in public.
That's the offer.
— Hollis