It interviews you
No forms. Tappable cards for style, equipment, days and experience — then one free-text step where you can say anything: bad shoulder, night shifts, hates burpees. The coach reads it before it writes a thing.
AI Workout Planner
Five questions, asked like a human. One week of training you can actually repeat. And a coach that notices — quietly — when you've stopped.
Who this is for
Every training app is designed for someone who already trains. Periodisation blocks. RPE tables. A spreadsheet with a subscription.
This one is for the other person — six weeks off, a gym card they still pay for, and no idea what to do on a Tuesday. It doesn't ask what your 1RM is. It asks what equipment you can reach.
How it works
No forms. Tappable cards for style, equipment, days and experience — then one free-text step where you can say anything: bad shoulder, night shifts, hates burpees. The coach reads it before it writes a thing.
Not a twelve-week PDF you'll abandon in nine days. One repeating week, plus the rules for when to add weight. Swipe through the days, tell it what's wrong, watch it revise — the old version greys out but stays claimable.
Check sets off, scrub the weight dial, watch the streak hold. Every tap saves instantly — switch apps mid-set and nothing is lost. After four weeks it asks, once, whether you'd like something new.
The brand mark, and the interface
No stock photos of strangers mid-rep. Every workout, every program and every past session renders as the same glowing map — volt for the muscles doing the work, purple for the ones helping. Tap a region to filter the exercise library down to it.
What's inside
A screenshot of a plan from a friend. A PDF from an old trainer. A wall of text from a forum. Paste it in and it becomes a real, followable program with your equipment substituted in — the one feature nothing else does properly.
Machine taken? Long-press the row. It suggests three alternatives that hit the same muscles with what you actually have.
Every check-off and weight edit persists the moment you make it. Leave the app mid-set, come back, it's all still there.
Finished sessions land in Apple Health as real workouts. Read-only on our side — we never pull your history out.
Every screen, every coach reply, every permission prompt — localised, not machine-swapped at runtime. Talk to it in Turkish and it answers in Turkish.
Not a wall of charts. A month-by-month record of what you did, in plain language, with the map beside it.
The engine
Apple's Foundation Models generate your program locally. Airplane mode, no signal, a train tunnel — it still works.
When a request needs a bigger model, it goes to Apple silicon that keeps no logs and is independently verifiable. Not to us.
No email, no password, no profile. Your data lives in your own iCloud, synced between your devices and nowhere else.
Pricing
The interview, your first program and follow mode are free forever — no blurred screens, no trial countdown. Pro unlocks the things you only want once you're already training.
Forever. No card, no account.
Cancel any time, from Settings.
Subscriptions bill through the App Store on iPhone, and through Stripe on the web.
TestFlight
We're letting people in a few at a time so the coach gets grilled properly. Leave an email and you'll get a TestFlight link — nothing else, ever.
The decision record still lists the name as open. Three directions, each with the same subtitle: AI Workout Planner. Trademark and domain checks still to run.
Owns the accent colour outright.
The volt-lime already is the brand — the icon, the progress rings, the primary muscles. Naming the app after it makes the palette and the wordmark the same asset. Short, energetic, unmistakably a product name.
Names the actual product decision.
The whole architecture is one repeating week rather than a twelve-week block. Cadence says rhythm you can keep — which is the entire pitch to someone who has quit three times. Warm, adult, not gym-bro.
Speaks straight to the returning gym-goer.
Not "start" — continue. It forgives the gap before you've opened the app, which is precisely the emotional job for someone six weeks off. Softest of the three, and the easiest to write friendly copy around.