In the ever-evolving world of fitness and health trends, few figures have captured as much attention and controversy as the Liver King. Known for his bold claims about primal living, intense workouts, and unconventional dietary practices, Liver King has amassed a significant following. However, recent scrutiny from exercise scientists, including Dr. Mike of Renaissance Periodization, sheds new light on the validity of these practices.

An Introduction to Liver King’s Controversy

Liver King, or Brian Johnson as he’s known off-screen, has built his brand on a narrative of returning to primal roots through rigorous physical training and a diet he claims mimics ancient practices. Central to his philosophy are “ancestral tenets” which he asserts are crucial for optimal health and fitness.

Dr. Mike, an exercise scientist with a background in sport and exercise science, as well as competitive bodybuilding and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, has taken a critical stance. In a recent analysis, Dr. Mike dismantles Liver King’s claims, questioning both their scientific basis and practical application.

Decoding Liver King’s Ancestral Diet and Training

Liver King advocates for a diet rich in organ meats, bone marrow, and other foods he deems essential for primal nutrition. His approach emphasizes consuming the entire animal, from “nose to tail,” which he believes provides a comprehensive spectrum of nutrients vital for health.

However, Dr. Mike highlights the inconsistencies and impracticalities of such a diet in modern contexts. He points out that while organ meats do offer nutritional benefits, there is no scientific evidence supporting the necessity of consuming them exclusively or in such large quantities. Most nutrition experts agree that a balanced diet incorporating a variety of food groups is more effective and sustainable for long-term health.

Moreover, Liver King’s diet ignores modern advances in nutrition science. Contemporary dietary guidelines are based on extensive research, showing that a diet rich in fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains promotes overall health and prevents chronic diseases. The hyper-focus on organ meats and other primal foods might also lead to nutritional imbalances and deficiencies if not carefully managed.

The Truth About Liver King’s Training Regimen

Liver King’s training regimen is equally contentious. He promotes intense physical activities like carrying heavy loads over long distances and exposure to extreme cold as ways to enhance strength and resilience. These methods, while invoking a sense of primal toughness, are critiqued by Dr. Mike for their potential risks and limited effectiveness compared to more conventional exercise approaches.

Dr. Mike advocates for evidence-based training methods that prioritize progressive overload, compound movements, and structured rest periods. He argues that these methods not only build strength more efficiently but also reduce the risk of injury associated with extreme training practices. Compound movements like squats, deadlifts, and bench presses are foundational in building muscle and strength because they engage multiple muscle groups simultaneously, promoting functional fitness.

Additionally, the extreme elements of Liver King’s regimen, such as carrying heavy loads over long distances, can lead to overuse injuries and chronic pain. Modern exercise science emphasizes the importance of a balanced workout routine that includes cardiovascular, strength, flexibility, and mobility training to ensure holistic fitness and prevent injuries.

Epigenetics and the Misuse of Scientific Terms

Liver King often references epigenetics to justify his dietary and training choices. However, Dr. Mike clarifies that while epigenetics is a legitimate field of study, Liver King’s application of the term is misleading. Epigenetics refers to the study of how gene expression can be influenced by environmental factors, but it does not validate extreme dietary or training regimes as claimed by Liver King.

The misuse of scientific terms like epigenetics can be misleading for individuals seeking genuine health advice. It’s crucial to understand that while lifestyle factors such as diet and exercise can influence gene expression, these effects are complex and cannot be simplified into blanket statements endorsing extreme behaviors. Reputable health and fitness advice should be grounded in robust scientific evidence, considering the multifaceted nature of human biology.

Shielding and Other Dubious Health Practices

Liver King advocates for shielding against modern environmental “dangers” like Wi-Fi and synthetic clothing, claiming they disrupt natural biological rhythms. Dr. Mike dismisses these claims, citing scientific consensus that these technologies pose no significant health risks when used appropriately.

The idea of shielding oneself from everyday modern conveniences is based more on fear-mongering than scientific reality. Research has shown that everyday exposure to Wi-Fi and synthetic clothing has minimal to no adverse effects on human health. Instead of focusing on these unfounded concerns, individuals should prioritize well-established health practices such as regular physical activity, balanced nutrition, adequate sleep, and stress management.

The Reality Behind the Persona

Beyond the controversies, Liver King’s persona raises questions about authenticity and credibility. Dr. Mike asserts that while Liver King’s message may resonate with some seeking alternative health approaches, his methods lack scientific rigor and may pose risks to followers’ health.

Moreover, the revelations about Liver King’s use of performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) further undermine his claims of achieving his physique through natural and ancestral means. This discrepancy highlights the importance of transparency and honesty in the health and fitness industry. Aspiring to unrealistic standards set by individuals who do not disclose their use of PEDs can lead to disappointment, disillusionment, and potentially harmful behaviors in those trying to emulate them.

In conclusion, the Liver King phenomenon serves as a cautionary tale in the fitness and health industry. While his charisma and unconventional approach may attract attention, consumers are urged to critically evaluate the scientific basis of health and fitness claims.

Dr. Mike’s analysis underscores the importance of evidence-based practices supported by peer-reviewed research. As consumers navigate the landscape of fitness influencers and health trends, skepticism and informed decision-making are crucial.

For those genuinely interested in improving their health and fitness, Dr. Mike recommends seeking guidance from certified professionals and relying on established principles of exercise science and nutrition.

In the end, the Liver King saga reminds us that while the allure of ancestral lifestyles and extreme fitness practices may be compelling, health decisions should always be grounded in scientific evidence and reasoned analysis.

Watch Dr. Mike’s full analysis on YouTube for a deeper dive into the controversy surrounding Liver King’s diet and training claims.

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A PT has shared her ultimate summer arm workout – and there’s not a dumbbell in sight.

If lugging weights around the gym for the sake of sculpted guns isn’t for you, then don’t sweat it – just five equipment free exercises are enough to tone up those biceps and triceps.

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And what’s more, you can do them from the comfort of your own home – or hotel room, if you’re jetting off for the holidays.

Personal trainer and women’s health and mindset coach Chloe Thomas put together a circuit of five exercises guaranteed to have your arms burning.

The PT – who goes under the name Chloe Inspires Coaching – recommended you do the circuit two or three times a week for best results.

“Aim for three rounds, with 30 seconds rest between each exercise,” she said.

Chloe advised you take 90 seconds of rest between each circuit.

And if you’re feeling brave – and looking for an extra burn – why not attempt doing the circuit four times over?

Your arms might feel sore afterwards – but they’ll certainly look fabulous.

Just make sure you warm up first to avoid injury, the PT said.

Chloe noted: “No exercise can spot reduce body fat; this is a myth and not possible.

“These exercises will increase strength and muscle mass.

“To reduce body fat you need to be eating in a caloric deficit and eating healthy, minimally processed foods.

“If you want to build muscle in your arms or core you need to make sure you are eating adequate protein each day.”

Roll out your mat, make sure you have a chair nearby, and let’s get started.

1. Diamond press ups

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Begin by kneeling on all fours with your hands under your chest, forming a diamond shape with your thumbs and index fingers.

Lower your body by bending your elbows, keeping them close to your sides – make sure you’re not flaring them out.

Lower until your chest is just above the ground and then push back up to the starting position.

Aim to do 10-12 reps of this exercise.

Beginners should start this exercise kneeling, but you can progress to full body press ups once you’re feeling confident, with no knees on the floor.

Simply get into a plank position and do the same sequence of movements.

2. Plank to shoulder taps

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Begin in a plank position with your hands under your shoulders and your body in a straight line.

Lift your right hand and tap your left shoulder.

The aim is to try and avoid moving your hips, so keeping your core tight will help with this.

Put your right hand to the floor and do the same with your left hand tapping your right shoulder.

Repeat this 10 to 12 times on each side.

3. Pike Push ups

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If you think you’re going to get a nice stretch out of this downward dog, think again!

Assume the position, with your hips raised and your hands and feet on the ground.

Next, bend your elbows to lower your head towards the ground.

Lower until your head is just above the ground, before pushing back up to the starting position.

Aim to do between five and eight reps.

To make this easier start on your knees and move to your feet.

But if you’re finding it too easy, pop your feet onto a sofa or chair.

4. Chair Dips

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Sit on the edge of a sturdy chair, with your hands gripping the edge next to your hips.

Slide yourself off the chair and lower your body by bending your elbows.

Lower until your elbows are at about 90 degrees, before pushing back up to the starting position.

Do 10-12 reps.

To make this harder, move your legs further away from the chair.

5. One armed press ups

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Begin in a kneeling position with your knees just behind your hips.

Place one hand next to you on the mat and splay the other arm out, with your palm on the floor.

Lower until your chest is just above the ground. Push back up to the starting position.

Do five to eight reps and perform the exercise on the other arm.

As this gets easier you can go to full plank position, not using your knees.

After panning over New York City, swooping from bridge to train, the camera drops to calf-level, looking out from a shoe store shop display. On the sidewalk, a man pauses, raising a leg to try on the pair in the window. The leg is bare, tan, and toned, not poured into jeans; the shoes aren’t black leather, they’re blizzard-white trainers. It’s not “Stayin’ Alive” throbbing but a Gibbsian falsetto droning, “Get on down.”

The “Saturday Night Fever” homage continues, the man strutting into a Brooklyn home. He flicks through a closet’s rainbow of tank tops, picks out a halo of tawny curls, and enters a nightclub (Brooklyn Disco) to a chorus of “how you doin’s.”

By that point, not yet two minutes into the video, I was marching. Keeping time with the beat in my socks, a scant six feet from the looming media cabinet in our cramped living room. It was the only room with a TV, and for “Disco Sweat” I’d endure my self-consciousness about exercising a hallway away from my mom, in the kitchen. I was 15. Three years out from an anorexia diagnosis, post-relapse number two, any physical exertion was suspect. And was I going to exert! I’d boogie to “Boogie Fever,” clap to “Born To Be Alive” and sashay to “I Will Survive,” inches from shimmying into the La-Z-Boy or Travolta-armsing our Airedale. Reflexively, I smiled at the TV. I was about to spend 70 minutes with Richard Simmons.

Simmons, who died on July 13 a day after his 76th birthday, was as recognizable as the golden arches of McDonalds. There was no discovering him. When I was growing up in the ’90s, he’d already become an icon. The fusilli hair, the oiled skin (subject of familiar jabs about the source of his signature glisten…Pam?), the spangle, the voice. The voice! Gleeful, giddy, earnest and encouraging, adamant yet never authoritarian. It was a voice apart from others, flouting the dire, eroticized militancy of gyms like those then-ubiquitous ads for Bally Total Fitness (“Firm arms, rock hard abs, for less than a $1 a day”).  

Simmons was a tonic to those who found those creatine temples intimidating or inaccessible. Who found that rhetoric overbearing or off-putting. Who didn’t want to build muscles while being belittled. Watch any of Simmons’ videos — and I watched all of them, borrowing them from the library again and again, pledging my allegiance to “Sweatin’ to the Oldies Vol. 2” (“Windy”!) over Vol. 1 (too slow) — and you’ll see a cast of real-life folks, people who’ve lost weight with Richard. At the end of “Disco Sweat,” those backup dancers run toward the screen, accomplishment quantified on screen: “David Jacobs, 107 pounds.”

As a teenager, anxious about three or five pounds, I jogged in place during those last minutes, sometimes tearing up, sometimes clapping. I never found these numbers triggering, never left “Disco Sweat” determined to outpace another’s loss. Instead, I left hopeful; someday, I might be as embracing, as joyous, as a light-hearted as Richard.

Perhaps because I was in the grips of my own eating disorder, I understood that that sunny affect must’ve been hard-won. It was. After spending approximately two hundred hours Disco Sweating, I read Simmons’ memoir, “Still Hungry—After All These Years.” Unlike the subjects of most eating disorder memoirs I devoured, Simmons had lived a varied, wanderlusty life. He was a musical theater nerd, an actor, a makeup rep and the most charismatic waiter in LA before becoming an entrepreneurial smash: actor, author, studio owner, teacher, infomercial sensation with products like Deal-a-Meal. But catch his cameo in “Satyricon”; you’ll see the haunted gauntness in his eyes and know that, for two decades, he was also killing himself with food.

What stuck with me was his recounting of the period he spent in Italy in his 20s. While working as a commercial actor, he receives an anonymous note (“RICHARD—YOU’RE VERY FUNNY BUT FAT PEOPLE DIE YOUNG. PLEASE DON’T DIE”) stuck to the windshield of his Fiat. He feeds lire into a public scale and, shocked by the number, embarks on a starvation diet so extreme he winds up passing out near the Uffizi Gallery. He wakes up in Santa Maria Nuova Hospital, having lost 112 pounds in less than three months. His organs were failing.

“I had been on both sides of the ruler,” Simmons writes. “I had been on the overweight, obese side, and then I had quickly seesawed to the very, very thin side—too thin. At this point in my life I was no better off, no more intelligent, and had no more knowledge than I did when I took that first diet pill in the sixth grade. Now it was time for me to try to find some balance, some middle ground, for the first time in my life.”

Balance. You couldn’t have said a nastier word to teenage anorexic me. Balance was for the undriven and the ordinary, people too weak to sacrifice everything in pursuit of their goal. Balance didn’t promise flat abs or jutting ribs. And yet, reading Richard, I wept. I couldn’t admit it yet, but I recognized it: my bleak, stupid mission.

I wish I could say that Richard Simmons fast-tracked my recovery from anorexia, but then that would be as cliché and saccharine as one of the skits in his workout videos, minus the camp. (And he was campy from the get-go, goofing and jestering: his first book titled, “Never-Say-Diet.”) Instead, Richard’s voice was a reprieve from my dour, cynical, toxic self-talk. Richard’s voice—so puckish and irreverent, singing “burn baby burn,” even talking about burning calories—was so unserious that it was infectious. Who would want to be uptight when you could be irrepressible? He was a cross between Puck and the Energizer Bunny, and yet he was an utter original. That’s the sort of thing David Letterman would say to him, when he made a late-night appearance, always using his name with that parental admix of bafflement and fatigue: “Richard.”

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His voice didn’t proselytize, either, and so I’m grateful that Richard was in the back of my mind, when the body positivity movement swept and seemed a new kind of dogma. I was grateful for Richard when I began doing another exercise video on repeat, one led by a frigid ballerina who never flubbed or joked. Yes, the Simmons oeuvre prizes weight loss but not at the cost of self-judgment.

In the last decade, Simmons retreated. He stopped leading classes at the Richard Simmons Slimmons Studio. He wanted to live a quiet life. There was speculation—was he being held prisoner, was he dying—but I prefer to imagine he had simply relaxed into existence, a state of satiation. Not worried about worrying about his fans (he was a compulsive fan-mail responder), not worried about numbers: likes, follows, revenue, pounds.

In the years I did “Disco Sweat,” I often forgot I was working out. Sometimes, babysitting my little sister, I roped her into doing the video, too. We laughed a lot: Richard’s cherubic smile, his costumes, his charms and puns. Unlike running or my herky-jerky stints on the Nordic Machine strider in the basement, there was no specter of calories. Who could know how many calories I burnt during those 72 minutes? Sweaty, happy, I’d rewind the tape.