I Broke My Back at 19. Then I Became a Personal Trainer for 27 Years. Here's What I Wish I'd Done Sooner.

The Thing Nobody Tells You About Being a Personal Trainer Trainer

I’ve been a personal trainer for 27 years. I hold a Level 4 nutrition qualification — one step below a dietitian — along with certifications in obesity and diabetes management. I’ve coached hundreds of clients, ran my own gym for 19 years, bench pressed the weight of a Challenger tank and pushed a half marathon in my wheelchair for charity. That last part surprises people.

My name is Matt Anderson. I do all of it from a wheelchair — since I broke my spine at 19.

I'm going to be completely honest with you. For the past 14 months I've been on bed rest, waiting for surgery, and I've had essentially no income. My clients are old school, like me. Without me there in person, there's nothing coming in. 

That's what finally pushed me to do what I should have done years ago, which is go online and join Gymbile.

It's a global live coaching platform, which means you can actually show a client what to do rather than just sending them a list of exercises. It’s simple and straightforward.

And for a trainer, it means your income doesn't stop the moment you do. I wish I'd understood that sooner.

This is my story. And if you’re someone who’s been putting off getting started — because of your age, your injury, your condition, or simply because you don’t quite know where to begin — I think some of it is going to sound familiar.

I Never Really Knew What I Wanted to Do

Growing up in the 70s and 80s, I was always an active child. Sport played a big part in my daily life. But I never really knew what I wanted to do with my life. Some people I knew were going to go into computers, they wanted to be a vet, a doctor. I never had that. I just knew I didn't want to sit in an office. I didn't want to be cooped up.

We didn't have PlayStations back then, so we just went outside. Riding bikes, climbing trees, kicking a ball around. Football was always my main love but I wouldn't call myself a particularly sporty kid. I was just a normal child from that era, always out and about.

I drifted through my later teens without much of a plan, ended up working in a local supermarket, and then a Canadian family friend came over to visit my parents and said, off the cuff, "Any time you want to come out to Canada, give me a shout." So I went.

I was 19, and off I went on my own, didn't really know anyone. A bit of an adventure.

Canada, November 1990

I was farming out in Saskatchewan, driving tractors, doing things I'd never done before, having the time of my life. I extended my stay but didn't renew my insurance, which, in retrospect, was a bad move.

And then one day I was driving out to get my haircut, of all things, and I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. But I don't remember anything of that.

The theory is a deer jumped out and I swerved to avoid it. I came out through the windscreen, and apparently I was crawling around for five or six hours before anyone found me. By which point it was minus 11 outside.

I suffered a spinal injury and a head injury. I went into a coma for around two weeks. And I arrived back in England, on a stretcher with nurses my parents had paid to fly home with me, on Christmas Eve 1990. Happy Christmas.

I was paralysed from just below the waist. Again, I didn't know what I was going to do before then, and I certainly didn't know what I was going to do, now that I'd found myself as a wheelchair user.

At the time, obviously, it was a big shock.

But looking back on it now, I'm surprised how well I did come through it. And I think that comes down to one thing.

You Look Around and Think: They're Doing It. Why Can't I?

The spinal unit had a particular atmosphere I've never found anywhere else. A lot of the people there were young, my sort of age, because it tends to be young people who do silly things. Some of them had neck breaks and could hardly move at all.

And yet the camaraderie and the spirit just gets you through. I never really went through the big depression that everyone said would come. I'm not saying that's because I'm particularly strong mentally or anything. But for some reason I just sort of got on with it.

They don't force you to do anything in a place like that. They've saved your life, stabilised your injury, and then it's up to you. Morning weight sessions to rebuild strength after weeks of atrophy.

They teach you how to live your life again, your new life. It's certainly not the end of life, and you need to be able to get on with it. And it's hard work, but if you put the effort in, just like anything in life, you put the effort in, you get out quicker.

A Friend, a Gym, and Everything Falling Into Place

After I got discharged I went back to college to study management. Fitness didn't really figure at the start of my second life, as I call it. I didn't even think about going to the gym.

Then a friend on the course, a guy called Pat, suggested we go together. I was nervous, I'll admit. 

I had this image of gyms being full of huge guys throwing sand around, the old cliche. It wasn't like that at all. Nobody batted an eye. If anything, they probably admired me being there in a wheelchair.

I just loved it. I fell in love with the feeling, the endorphins. I just loved the whole thing.

One of the women who worked there happened to teach fitness qualifications. So I got qualified. And then the gym closed, and me and two of the people from there opened our own.

That gym was called Images. I owned it for 19 years.

Looking back, I think I was just meant to be there. If I hadn't broken my back, who knows, I'd probably still be travelling, getting up to all sorts of shenanigans. Maybe it's a bit ridiculous to say it was the greater calling, but everything just fell into place. I was in the right place at the right time.

A Gym Where Everybody Knew Your Name

We weren't the best-equipped place. The big commercial chains were opening nearby with £15 memberships and modern equipment. And yet we kept going, because of the personal touch. I knew all 100 members by name.

We had all shapes and sizes, all ages. People in their 80s training alongside people who'd never set foot in a gym before. It wasn't a bodybuilding place. But the people who came there appreciated what we had, which was a friendly, personal atmosphere and absolutely no intimidation.

It was almost like a gym for people that don't go to the gym.

I knew what they did, what they liked, what their goals were. The younger ones wanted to look good on a Saturday night. The older ones wanted to climb the stairs without pain. You get to know people, and you can help them properly.

When we finally had to close, we held a leaving night in the music venue next door. People were buying me drinks all evening. They were genuinely upset. 

So was I. 19 years is a long time to spend anywhere, and some of the best times of my life were spent in that place.

Train with Matt online — wherever you are. Matt offers a free first session on Gymbile, no commitment. Just a conversation about where you are and where you want to get to.

What 27 Years Has Taught Me About Training

My philosophy, if you want to call it that, is simple. Pick a weight up and put it down. Get the technique right, technique before weight every time, and do the basics well. People overcomplicate these things enormously. Schwarzenegger didn't build that body through complexity. He just lifted things, consistently and hard.

I'm also a huge believer in nutrition. You cannot out-train a bad diet, that's just the truth. 

I'm a Level 4 qualified nutrition coach now, one below a dietitian, and I hold qualifications in obesity and diabetes management as well, because we live in a world where those conditions are increasingly common and the causes are far more complicated than people assume.

The other thing 27 years has taught me is that everyone is an individual. Everyone's reasons for training are different, everyone's capabilities are different, and everyone deserves to be helped on their own terms. The word personal in personal trainer is there for a reason. The more you understand the person in front of you, the better everything works.

Everyone's idea of fitness is different, everyone's capabilities are different, but everyone has the right to be able to train, and everyone should be training as they want to.

Some clients need you to be straight with them. Others need an arm around them and a bit of gentleness. You find out which is which by actually getting to know them. It's not rocket science, but it does take time.

What 14 Months in Bed Taught Me About the Personal Training Business

Here's the thing I wish I'd sorted out years earlier.

Everything I've earned as a personal trainer has depended on me being physically present on the gym floor. When I can't be there, for whatever reason, the income stops. And with my situation, there are always going to be periods when I simply can't be on the floor. That's the reality.

This has really brought it home to me. I do need to come kicking and screaming into the 21st century. And I should have done it a long time ago. That's why I've joined Gymbile.

What I like about it specifically is the video. A lot of online training platforms just give you a written programme, three sets of ten of this, four sets of eight of that. Gymbile lets you actually show the client what to do. I can hold up a resistance band on screen and demonstrate an exercise for someone sitting at home who has never been to a gym in their life. For me, that’s everything, because I’ve always been better at explaining things verbally than writing them down.

And the reach is different entirely. Right now I work out of a large commercial gym with around 3,000 members. That’s my whole world of potential clients. Through Gymbile, I can reach anyone with a phone and a set of bands.

Who I Work With

The clients I’m building my online practice around are people the mainstream fitness industry often overlooks. Older adults who want to stay strong, mobile, and independent as they age. People managing chronic conditions — diabetes, obesity, back injuries, post-surgical recovery — who need a trainer who genuinely understands their situation rather than just handing them a generic plan. And people who would never walk into a commercial gym, but would absolutely work hard in their own living room with the right guidance.

My qualifications in obesity and diabetes management aren’t incidental. I sought them out because those are exactly the clients who need the most careful, qualified support — and who are most often let down because of the complexity of what they’re dealing with.

I’m old school. I still wander around the gym with a clipboard and a piece of paper, to great amusement from my younger colleagues. I’m not big into technology. I’m a late adopter and I know it. But the opportunity here is real, the platform works for people like me, and frankly, if I can get my head around it from a wheelchair in my 50s, there is no excuse for anyone else.

What a Session With Me Actually Looks Like

If you’re curious how it works in practice: you book a time, we jump on a live video call, I ask you a few questions and watch you move, and we build a programme from there. That’s it. No gym required, no complicated equipment, no intimidating environment. Just you, me, and a plan that’s built around your actual situation.

The first session is free. There’s no commitment, no obligation — just a conversation to find out whether working together is the right fit.

To Anyone Who Thinks Their Situation Is Too Complicated

I want to say something to the people reading this who've been putting off getting started because they think they're too old, too injured, too far gone, or too complicated a case for a personal trainer to understand.

I'm paralysed from the waist down. I was found in a field in Canada at minus 11 degrees having gone through a windscreen. I spent months learning to sit up, get dressed, and navigate a world not built for me. And I have been a personal trainer for 27 years.

Every month you don’t start is a month your body isn’t getting stronger. Your mobility isn’t improving. The condition you’re managing isn’t getting easier to live with. And the longer you wait, the harder the starting point becomes.

Anybody and everybody can benefit from exercise. If anything, the more complicated your situation, the more important it is to have someone properly qualified in your corner. 

You wouldn't service your own car if you'd never done it before. Your body is the only one you're going to get. Find someone who knows what they're doing.

Whatever your age, your condition and your reason for never having started — the right time to begin is now.