Yiğit Azad Polat

Questions

Honest answers to the most-asked questions. No fooling, health first. I don't give doses; I tell you the truth.

Before I start my first cycle, what checks should I get, is bloodwork a must?

What you do before a cycle already decides what you live through after it. If you put something inside you without knowing your own baseline, you can't see what broke, because you've got nothing to compare it to. I don't give doses, that's not my job. But if you're starting without looking at your blood, you're already not ready. If your heart, liver and hormones are going to get touched, you need to see that picture first.

If I do just one cycle and stop, will my body go back to normal, or will I have to use forever?

I've known a lot of people who said 'just one cycle.' Most of them were still saying the same line when they started the second. Whether your body comes back isn't decided by the drug, it's decided by whether you can show the patience to let yourself recover once you stop. Someone who sees the shortcut once has a hard time walking the long road again. If you're asking whether it comes back, first answer this: do you want this enough to accept that it might not.

If I skip PCT after a cycle, what happens, is it really necessary?

Skipping PCT is like doing the most visible part of the job and neglecting the most important one. If you feed your body something from outside for months and then suddenly leave it on its own, that system can struggle to recover; if you're asking 'is it necessary,' part of you already knows. I won't write you what to use, that's the job of a doctor who's looking at your blood. But if you're thinking about going in without planning your exit, rethink the whole cycle. Knowing how to get in but not how to get out is riskier than never getting in.

My coach gave me a cycle but never asked for bloodwork, is that normal?

Someone who gives you something and never looks at your blood isn't interested in you, they're interested in your eagerness. Asking for bloodwork means taking responsibility; not asking is the easy way to avoid carrying it. If you're handing your own body to someone, that person needs to know you from where they measure you, not from where they're standing. Trust given by someone who steers you without measuring isn't trust.

I heard peptides are less harmful than steroids, are they really safer?

'Less harmful' is usually the polite way of saying 'I want to stop researching here.' A thing having a different name doesn't make it safe; you're touching the same system through a different door. Some are genuinely milder, some get sold as a 'peptide' without anyone really knowing what they do, and both end up in the same bag. If what you're after is being harmless, what you need isn't a harmless substance, it's knowing what it does.

I'm on SARMs but my testicles shrank and I've got no drive, what should I do?

Your body is telling you something plainly, and you're asking what to do, but you already feel the answer. These signs can point to suppression, and waiting for it to 'pass on its own' isn't always right. I can't tell you what to take, only a doctor looking at your blood can make that call; with signs like these, waiting is the most expensive option. What you need right now isn't to add one more thing, it's to stop and actually see a doctor.

Will using a cycle young cause infertility later, I'm scared I won't be able to have kids?

It's good you're feeling this fear now, because most people ask the same question after it's already too late. If something from outside interferes with a young system that hasn't fully built its own balance yet, rebuilding it can get hard, and sometimes it doesn't come back quite the same. Anyone who gives you a flat 'yes it will' or 'no it won't' is lying; this varies person to person and nobody can guarantee it. If having kids is a possibility for you, don't start anything without seeing a urologist first.

After my cycle I feel empty and down, is this temporary?

That emptiness isn't made up; a system that was artificially raised for months got suddenly left standing on its own feet and hasn't recovered yet. Most of the time it settles with time, but nobody can promise you how long. If it's sinking into your sleep, your appetite, your ability to enjoy life and it isn't lifting for days, then this isn't about training anymore; I'm seriously telling you to see a doctor. I'm not a doctor, and I don't want you taking this lightly.

Every Monday I start over but quit a few days later, how do I break this cycle?

Every Monday feels like a clean page, because you haven't broken anything yet that day. Endless possibility, zero proof. But you trip in the same spot every time: the motivation runs out and you see there's no structure underneath to carry you. This doesn't get broken by a grand fresh start, it gets broken by a promise small enough to keep on Wednesday even when you don't feel like it.

When my motivation is high I'm great, but when it's gone I stop, how do I stay motivated all the time?

You're asking how to stay motivated all the time, but the real thing isn't staying motivated, it's doing the same work when you're not. Motivation gets work out of you while it's here, and when it leaves it drops you alone with what you've done. The people you call disciplined aren't more eager than you; they just built a structure that doesn't need eagerness. What you do on the day you don't feel like it says more than all the days you did.

I keep making promises to myself but can never keep them, why am I like this?

The reason you can't keep a promise to yourself isn't a lack of character, it's that the promise costs you nothing. When you promise someone else there's a face across from you, and you'd be ashamed to break it; when you promise yourself, no one's watching and you answer to no one when you break it. But with every small broken promise, you trust yourself a little less, and you don't even notice it happening. After a while, when you make a new promise, part of you doesn't take it seriously from the start.

How do disciplined people do it, do they never not feel like it?

The most disciplined people I know don't feel like it either, that's not where the difference is. They've stopped letting 'do I feel like it' decide the day; ask that question fresh every morning and you've already lost. Discipline isn't the absence of reluctance, it's the habit of moving despite it. Repeat something enough and it stops being a decision you make and becomes who you are.

I can't stop looking at my phone and I can't focus, what should I do?

Not being able to put the phone down isn't really an attention problem, most of the time you're running from an uncomfortable silence. You put a screen over every empty moment, because you're afraid of what you'll think in that emptiness. The addiction isn't in the device, it's in how easy it is to fill that gap. If you can put the phone down and sit with that discomfort for a while, the focus you're after comes back on its own.

When I don't reach my goals I hate myself, how do I deal with this?

Hating yourself looks like discipline from the outside, but most of the time it's the thing that ends it. While you're being this hard on yourself, part of you thinks the harshness is proof of effort; it isn't, usually it's an excuse. You don't break down because you missed the goal, you break down because you made a promise you secretly knew you couldn't keep. The real question isn't 'why did I fail,' it's 'did I actually want this, or did I set it to prove something to someone.'

I can't get started because I'm afraid of what people will think, what should I do?

Nobody actually thinks about you as much as you imagine; everyone's on their own stage, and the people you think are your audience are busy with their own fears. The real reason you can't start isn't their eyes, it's that as long as you don't try you don't have to count yourself a failure. The thing you don't start can't hurt you, so not starting feels safe. What's holding you back isn't the eyes outside, it's using those eyes as an excuse to dodge the risk.

I don't want to start training, but when I don't I feel bad, is this normal?

Not wanting to and feeling bad at the same time is perfectly normal, because the two speak from different places: one is the voice of comfort, the other is the promise you made yourself. Comfort won't kill you, it gets you used to living without doing anything; that's the real danger. That 'bad' feeling inside is a signal, telling you there's a direction you've lost. If you wait for the urge to arrive, you usually wait for nothing; that urge mostly shows up after you move, not before.

How do you pick an honest cycle coach, what should I watch for?

You tell whether a coach is good not from the program they hand you but from what they ask you. Someone who gives you something without looking at your blood or asking about your history isn't interested in you, they're interested in your eagerness. A good coach sometimes says 'not right now'; whoever gives everything to everyone who asks is doing sales, not coaching. Stay away from anyone who promises you sure results and numbers, because nobody can guarantee anything without seeing your body.

How do I know whether a coach is right for me?

Look at how they make you feel: do they belittle you, do they sell by scaring you, or do they speak from where you actually are. Someone who brushes your questions off with 'don't worry about that' won't listen to you through the process either. The right coach is the one willing to take you from where you stand today; one who deals with your real self, not some ideal version of you.

Should I stay away from a coach who doesn't ask for bloodwork?

Someone who gives you something and never looks at your blood isn't taking on the responsibility. Asking for bloodwork is effort and responsibility; not asking is taking the easy way. If you're handing your health to someone, that person needs to know you from where they measure you. Trust given by someone who steers you without measuring isn't trust.

Should I pick a coach by price, cheap or expensive?

Price alone tells you neither quality nor safety. Cheap often means you'll be one number on a crowded list; expensive doesn't automatically mean good either. Don't look at the price, look at how much that person actually cares about you and how closely they follow you. What you're paying for isn't a program, it's having someone beside you through the process.

Should I trust a coach who guarantees results?

The moment you hear the word 'guarantee,' take a step back. Without knowing your sleep, your stress, your genetics and your history, nobody can promise you sure results; if they're promising, they either don't know or they're selling. An honest one tells you the odds and the risk, not a fairy tale. You'll want the truth, not a guarantee.