Sisyphus Meets Kettlebell: Crafting a Daily Strength Routine

I positioned my feet on either side of the kettlebell, pushed my hips backward, grasped the handle firmly, drew in a deep breath, and lifted the shiny new 150-pound iron weight with a deadlift motion. 'Hmm,' I mused to myself, 'that wasn't too challenging.' At that moment, my son Simon stepped into

I positioned my feet on either side of the kettlebell, pushed my hips backward, grasped the handle firmly, drew in a deep breath, and lifted the shiny new 150-pound iron weight with a deadlift motion. 'Hmm,' I mused to myself, 'that wasn't too challenging.' At that moment, my son Simon stepped into the garage and glanced over at me with curiosity.

Are you planning to swing that thing?' he inquired.

'Yes, probably just a single swing to begin with,' I replied. 'We'll see how it goes from there.'

Once more, I drove my hips back, seized the handle, hiked the kettlebell between my legs, and propelled it forward through the air for a total of five solid repetitions before carefully placing it back on the ground.

Simon lifted his eyebrows in surprise. 'Plans have shifted a bit,' I explained with a grin.

He stepped up to give it a try himself, swinging the bell, but it tugged him slightly off balance. 'Whoa,' he exclaimed, steadying himself as he set it down.

Would you like to do a warm-up first?' I suggested.

'Nah, I'm fine,' he responded. 'I just need to dial in my positioning better.' He adjusted his stance accordingly and managed three repetitions. Handling a 150-pound iron kettlebell is no small feat, regardless of your size or build. Simon towers over me by roughly three and a half inches and carries about 45 to 50 pounds more muscle mass. Plus, he's three decades younger than I am.

So, how did I manage that? The answer lies in my extensive experience with kettlebell swings.

The Foundation of My Journey

For numerous years, I have maintained a consistent kettlebell training routine, but ever since finishing my inaugural February Simple and Sinister program some time ago, swings and Turkish get-ups have become the central pillar of my fitness regimen. Then, last autumn, circumstances intensified dramatically: my son was deployed to the Middle East for military service, my daughter announced her engagement, and my aging parents experienced a decline in health that demanded more of my attention and availability. During this period, simplicity in training became essential. Programs like Simple, AXE, and Q&D offered ideal frameworks from which all additional physical efforts could organically extend and develop.

This is where the myth of Sisyphus enters the picture.

The classic tale of Sisyphus recounts the story of the shrewd yet somewhat unscrupulous King of Corinth, who incurs the wrath of the Olympian gods. As punishment, Zeus dooms him to an endlessly futile labor: pushing a massive boulder up a steep hill each day, only for it to roll back down just before he reaches the top, forcing him to start over.

This cycle persists forever.

Many interpret Sisyphus's plight as a symbol of utter pointlessness. However, the French existential philosopher Albert Camus argued that if Sisyphus could fully accept his eternal task, he might discover profound significance within it. I prefer to imagine Sisyphus evolving into a devoted practitioner of his punishment, approaching each ascent with precise focus on the repetitive, everyday toil, treating every push as though it were the initial one—fresh and distinct. (Admittedly, not literally every single time, but you get the idea.)

This led me to ponder: 'What if Sisyphus had chosen to swing a kettlebell instead?'

That question reshaped my perspective on my own training path. I stopped fixating on destinations or endpoints. Instead, I committed to deliberate, purposeful effort day after day.

Simple on Paper, Challenging in Practice

To the rushed, overwhelmed, or distracted individual—which describes most of us during stressful times—a kettlebell swing might appear identical every time it's performed. When incorporated into what seems like a straightforward routine, such as 100 swings paired with 10 get-ups, it's easy to slip into automatic pilot mode without much thought.

The comparison to Sisyphus's endless labor emerged during a video conversation with my son. Simon shared his excitement about the rigorous training regimens he was following overseas—enormous compound lifts supplemented by extensive accessory exercises—that were yielding impressive strength improvements. His progress metrics were undeniable and substantial, far exceeding my current barbell ambitions. This success motivated him to purchase a vast array of home gym equipment awaiting his return.

In the ensuing weeks, my wife and I visited his condominium, where stacks of unopened packages were piling up and dominating the garage space. I assembled the power rack, installed the pull-up stringers, and securely anchored the robust steel structure to the wall; I sorted through countless dumbbells, weight plates, and kettlebells; I even prepared an area for his arriving rowing machine.

If you thrive on structured programming, have clear objectives, and ample time like my son does, such an elaborate setup can be incredibly motivating. Contemporary fitness programs abound with intricately designed schedules, complete with precise benchmarks and milestones. Pavel Tsatsouline, the founder of StrongFirst, excels at crafting these quantitative blueprints, drawing from historical training legends and cutting-edge sports science. I hold that approach in high regard. There are countless effective training methodologies available. Yet, it's all too easy to get sidetracked by the complexities of the training process itself.

Meanwhile, I was reaping substantial benefits from maintaining a streamlined approach. As Pavel has emphasized repeatedly, including in his February 2025 interview with Andrew Huberman, mastering just a handful of key exercises with consistency and quality can deliver extraordinary outcomes.

Confronting a daily 'simple' kettlebell swing demands a shift in mindset. The question evolves from a theoretical one—'How should I do this?'—to a deeply felt, in-the-moment inquiry: 'In what way will I execute this task today?' The secret lies in cultivating mindful engagement with this recurring, fundamental action.

Aligning Focus with Purpose

Prior to and throughout his deployment, my son generously provided me with several hefty kettlebells, serving as both motivation and, I believe, a subtle provocation to push my limits. He lent me his personal 36kg and 48kg bells, and soon after, a 44kg and 56kg arrived on my doorstep, accompanied by a card reading, 'With love from Simon.'

Suddenly, I possessed an impressive lineup of heavy iron. My winter sessions with this collection turned into intense dialogues—reminiscent of Socratic questioning, where inquiry and response unfold through probing exploration.

Except my interlocutor was solid cast iron.

Each morning, post-coffee, I would complete a rucking session and then head to my dedicated kettlebell area in the living room, primed to engage and absorb the lessons.

This mindset isn't new to me; I've explored it previously. Swinging a kettlebell 100 times daily for an entire month not only ensured my daily commitment but also revealed fresh dimensions within the routine activity. I paid close attention to my breathing patterns, fine-tuned my foot placement, modulated my grip tension, engaged my shoulders and lats fully. Whatever adjustments were necessary to complete those 100 swings each day. Now, extending that philosophy to four to six kettlebell sessions per week, I approached them not as obligations to endure, but as opportunities to fully inhabit the practice.

Free from rigid numerical targets, I still achieved meaningful progress. My goal was simply to hone kettlebell swings through foundational protocols across multiple days weekly, persisting until life's demands eased—or perhaps ongoing without end.

The Flexible Training Framework (or Lack Thereof)

By December 2024, I was executing these core protocols within an anti-glycolytic training zone using the following weights:

• Simple protocol featuring a 32kg kettlebell
• AXE for 40 minutes using a 32kg kettlebell
• Q&D in its pushup variation with a 32kg kettlebell
• Snatches employing a 24kg kettlebell, occasionally advancing to 28kg

Next, I integrated the heavier kettlebells into rotation. Each day, I selected a primary protocol and chose weights along with any necessary adjustments that intuitively suited the moment. This intuitive method drew inspiration from Brett Jones's insightful piece on 'The ‘No-Plan’ Plan.'

Typically, across most weeks, I incorporated swings four to five days (escalating to daily in February for the annual challenge, paired with get-ups). Adhering to core StrongFirst guidelines on power output, performance quality, and subjective exertion levels, I progressively increased loads by waving them within the structures until I established proficiency with the bigger bells, enabling full protocol completion with a single heavier implement.

For instance, during a standard Simple session, I might alternate sets of 10 swings between 32kg and 36kg kettlebells. Alternatively, I could deploy the 56kg for select two-arm swings. On rest days—or sometimes alongside swings—I would ruck, deadlift, go hiking, practice yoga, execute pull-ups and push-ups, or similar activities to round out my routine and stave off psychological fatigue.

I experimented extensively with load undulations and intensity variations based on bodily feedback, prioritizing perceived effort, power maintenance, and technical precision. Roughly 80% of sessions stayed within anti-glycolytic parameters.

I make no pretensions of expertise here. My approach built directly on the wisdom of StrongFirst instructors through this personal experiment. The outcomes validate their proven methodologies. Below are additional flexible examples, adapted from Jones and fellow specialists.

Simple Protocol Variations

• Swing using a 32kg kettlebell, then transition to 36kg for get-ups.
• Swing with 36kg and handle get-ups with 32kg; if fatigue sets in, drop swings to 32kg or 28kg.
• Once prepared, escalate by combining 36kg and 40kg; limit heavier get-ups to two or four before reverting lighter.
• Execute initial 50 swings at 40kg, then shift to 36kg or 32kg.
• Incorporate 90-second rests between get-ups on certain days, particularly when using heavier bells for all 10.

AXE Protocol Variations

• Execute standard AXE for 30–40 minutes with a weight you fully control.
• Undulate loads by arranging kettlebells in a circle—such as 16kg, 20kg, 24kg, 28kg, 32kg, 36kg, 40kg, 56kg—and alternate swing sets to regulate heart rate and maintain conversational pacing.
• Incorporate light snatches for diversity on some occasions (up to 28kg for me) while reserving heavier bells for one- or two-arm swings, prioritizing explosive power.
• Commit to a single kettlebell for a full 30–40 minute session at least biweekly, potentially advancing from your established weight.
• Occasionally challenge heavier options while respecting StrongFirst cessation signals like technique breakdown, power loss, or talk test failure.
• Intersperse two-arm swings periodically, sometimes with lighter implements.

The Quick and the Dead Protocol

Apply similar load waving principles as outlined, but heighten vigilance. This protocol's demand for crisp, potent explosiveness—particularly in push-ups—grows demanding with added weight. Meticulous form adherence and protocol fidelity are non-negotiable.

Did I incorporate other exercises or protocols? Absolutely. On days craving brevity, I'd grab the 24kg for 100 continuous swings in under five minutes. Brett Jones's 'No-Plan' Plan article provided valuable variety to combat monotony. Weekly, I integrated push-ups and pull-ups, plus occasional squats and presses.

Yet swings remained my cornerstone. When practiced mindfully and routinely, they reliably produce robust results.

Achieved Milestones

In the broader strength community, my accomplishments may seem modest, but personally, they affirm the value of sustained immersion in a foundational, multifaceted movement.

Over six months, I advanced my swing loads across all three protocols by a minimum of 18 pounds at talk-test intensities. My maximum get-up weight rose by about 26 pounds. In every instance, I progressed at least one kettlebell increment, often two.

Specific protocol achievements include:

• Routinely performing the full Simple protocol with 40kg, elevated from 32kg.
• Completing 40 minutes of AXE, heeding stop signals, using 40kg versus prior 32kg.
• Successfully executing two clean get-ups per side across three sessions with 48kg, up from 36kg.
• Regularly and earnestly two-arm swinging 56kg; sustaining it for 30 minutes of AXE.
• Initiating one-arm swings with 48kg for multiple reps.
• And, naturally, that 150-pound kettlebell session.

Broader Gains Beyond the Gym

This past July amid the Colorado Rockies, my wife—who actively trains and coaches CrossFit while favoring strongman challenges—and I undertook demanding pursuits outside our usual preparation: strenuous hiking and mountain biking. Journeying from Burlington, Vermont, to Breckenridge, Colorado, we rose early our first morning for a brisk 3-mile forested loop in the National Forest, climbing sharply from our lodging. It felt effortless.

Refusing to idle away any moments, we followed with a 20-mile bike loop encircling Lake Dillon on rented mountain bikes. The rest of the week, we summited five distinct 14,000-foot peaks near Breckenridge, capping it with additional trail rides.

We possess the foundational skills and background, yet neither of us had prioritized cycling or dedicated hiking recently.

The day following our Colorado return, I traveled south to Manchester, New Hampshire, enduring three full days of moving assistance for my daughter and her fiancé amid scorching 100-degree heat.

Nevertheless, I powered through unscathed.

How was this possible?

Key Insights and Lessons

My wife and son both appreciate the diversity and atmosphere a full gym offers. I have no quarrel with that preference. Hiking and cycling are fantastic, yet they require significant time and logistical support. Having undergone bilateral knee replacements over ten years ago, running holds little appeal for me anymore. Kettlebells, by contrast, are affordable, virtually unbreakable, and conveniently stationed beside my living room couch.

Gazing around Simon's garage at the array of gear—plates, dumbbells, bike, sandbags, pull-up and dip stations—I acknowledged I couldn't match his bench press, squat, or deadlift prowess. Outrunning him? Out of the question.

Yet there I stood, having swung that 150-pounder, knocked out pull-ups and dips (neglected for nearly a year), and remained primed for whatever came next.

Returning to the central query: 'What if Sisyphus swung a kettlebell?'

In my case, it probes the effectiveness of such seemingly monotonous labor. Empirically, I've grown stronger—not merely with kettlebells, but in tackling real-world rigors. This practice has sharpened my internal awareness and sustained exceptional endurance.

Thus, I'll continue these protocols in my unassuming iron-filled nook moving forward, confident they embody the essence of prioritizing strength through uncomplicated means.