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Kids need strong dads. Like, really strong. After all, if your dad can’t bench 225 lbs, he’s probably your mom.
All kidding aside, I embrace being the “jacked” dad. A father’s strength is often the first form of security a child experiences. Kids want to be carried to bed, put on your shoulders, and thrown in the pool. And every summer, I make a spectacle of ripping my shirt off and getting my daughter’s loaded camp trunk from the top of her closet while making Hulk sounds. While my sons actually do care what I can bench, most kids don’t. They just care that dad can do things.
Laughing about “dad bods” led to acceptance, which turned into a celebration of sorts. Eventually, we stopped expecting fathers to remain physically capable. But physical capability isn’t vanity. It’s part of the job description. This conversation isn’t about abs. It’s about refusing to be average in areas we can control and that our kids can observe. The inevitable decline of age will catch us all, but surrendering is optional. And I spent years surrendering.
When my wife told me we were pregnant with our first child, I was sitting on the couch eating pizza. For years, I had been saying I’d “get in shape” soon. Long gone were the college football days that came with a strength coach’s accountability. So, I threw the slice in the trash and went on a health journey. I told my wife that if I couldn’t take care of myself, I shouldn’t be expected to take care of a child.
That inflection point sent me on a 50-pound weight-loss journey, and the last 11 years have been a lesson in the benefits of being a strong dad.
My kids know that their beauty is an inherent gift from God, but their health and their strength are mostly within their control and reflect our family’s values.
I teach them that their bodies are their business cards. Before people hear your values, they see your habits. Your body tells a story not about perfection, but about priorities. Do you do hard things? Do you set goals? Are you reliable to show up? Your body doesn’t reveal everything about your character, but it usually reveals something.
And our home is where these habits should be most visible. Kids copy far more than they listen. I can’t expect them to keep their bedroom clean if ours is a mess. I can’t demand they eat healthy if I’m constantly digging through the pantry for junk food. The same is true for fitness.
Years ago, I built a gym in our garage. My kids see me work out every day. But they’re seeing more than the routine of reps. They’re seeing delayed gratification, discipline, effort, injury, and setbacks. They’re watching their dad set goals, struggle, fail, try again, and eventually succeed. In many ways, they are capturing all the lessons of parenting, marriage, and life.
There is also a faith element here, and we take our faith more seriously than fitness. God didn’t call men to be bodybuilders, but he did call men to protect, provide, serve, and carry burdens. Physical capability forges all four. Strength isn’t the goal; service is. But strength helps.
Christianity emphasizes a life of uncomfortable sacrifice. Weight training is voluntary discomfort. One willingly embraces struggle now to become more useful later. That is fundamentally Christian. Jesus carried the cross. We shoulder burdens.
While our culture often teaches us either to worship our bodies or ignore them, Christianity teaches neither. Scripture teaches stewardship. First Corinthians 6:19 says, “Your body is a temple for the Holy Spirit.” God has entrusted me with a wife, children, time, resources, and a body. Stewardship means carrying all of them. The goal is not vanity. It’s readiness. Christian men should not aspire to be impressive. They should aspire to be useful. And nowhere is that usefulness needed more than inside the walls of your home.
But capability doesn’t just benefit your children. Before I was a dad, I was a husband. Love isn’t merely spoken; it’s demonstrated through action. When you are physically capable, you are better able to carry your share, serve, protect, and show up. My wife already has enough things to take care of. I’m refusing to be one of them.
Weight training lowers your risk of all-cause mortality. I don’t just want to walk my daughter down the aisle. I want to dance with her kids at their weddings. And I want to give my sons fatherhood advice when they’re 40. One of the greatest gifts I can give my kids is putting in the effort to stay around.
I don’t know when I’ll lift my kids onto my shoulders for the last time, but that day will come. Seasons of life end, and age is undefeated. But until then, I will be capable for the people God entrusted to me. They deserve the strongest version of me. And while fatherhood is about being strong and not looking strong, you still might catch me throwing up the occasional flex on the beach.
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Gates Garcia is the host of the YouTube show and podcast We The People with Gates Garcia. Follow him on X and Instagram @GatesGarciaFL.