After testing more than a dozen workout apps while building Torqe, the pattern became impossible to ignore. These apps are not primarily designed around what serious lifters need. They are designed around what attracts and retains the largest possible user base — and those are two very different design briefs.
Understanding that distinction explains almost everything frustrating about the current state of workout apps.
Two types of lifters. One market.
There is a lifter who gets inspired by an Instagram post, signs up for a gym, downloads a workout app, and trains hard for six weeks before life gets in the way and the couch wins. This person is not cynical or lazy — motivation is genuinely hard to sustain, and fitness culture does an efficient job of making it feel more complicated than it is. But this lifter has a short window of engagement and relatively low switching cost. Getting their subscription is an easy first step. Keeping it is harder.
There is another lifter who has been training consistently for one, two, three years. They have a program they believe in. They understand progressive overload. They walk into the gym knowing exactly what they're doing and need exactly one thing from an app: their plan loaded, their targets visible, and a clear signal for when to add weight. This lifter doesn't need to be convinced to train. They need frictionless execution of a system they've already built.
Most apps are built to attract the first type of lifter. The second type ends up using them anyway — and building workarounds for everything the app doesn't do.
Why the feature mountain exists.
Muscle heatmaps. Animated exercise tutorials. AI-generated workout recommendations. Social feeds. Body scanning integrations. Streak tracking. Achievement badges. Calorie burn estimates. Hundreds of pre-built programs across every imaginable goal and fitness level.
These features are not random. Each one was added because it tests well with new users, improves App Store screenshots, appears in feature comparison lists, and justifies a monthly price in the mind of someone evaluating apps for the first time. They are acquisition features — designed to attract and convert the casual gym-goer who is overwhelmed by the options and reassured by comprehensiveness.
For the serious hypertrophy lifter, most of this is noise. Worse than noise — it adds navigational complexity to an app that should be frictionless during a workout. Every extra tap between setting up a session and logging a set is friction at the exact moment friction is most damaging.
- App Store visual impressiveness
- Feature comparison checklist wins
- New user onboarding conversion
- Broad appeal across all fitness goals
- Monthly subscription justification
- Social sharing and virality
- Load a program fast
- See targets alongside actuals
- Log a set in one tap
- Rest timer that doesn't get in the way
- Clear signal when to increase weight
- Nothing else during the workout
The subscription model compounds the problem.
Most apps charge between $8 and $35 a month. At those price points, the product team is under constant pressure to justify the cost with visible, demonstrable features. Adding a new AI recommendation engine is easy to market. Refining the core logging experience to be three taps faster is invisible to a new subscriber but enormously valuable to someone who logs four workouts a week for three years.
The result is apps that keep growing wider when they should be growing deeper. More features for more types of users, rather than a better experience for the user who is already committed.
Serious lifters end up paying monthly for capabilities they never use, while the one thing they actually need — persistent target tracking during a session — remains unbuilt because it doesn't photograph well for an App Store screenshot.
What a focused lifter actually needs from an app.
Strip everything away and the requirements are narrow. Load the training plan — the exercises, the sets, the target weight and reps. During the workout, show the targets and the actuals on the same screen simultaneously. Run the rest timer without it taking over. When the session ends, make clear which exercises hit their targets and are ready for a weight increase next time.
A serious hypertrophy lifter already knows what to do. The app's job is to hold the plan, track the execution, and stay out of the way. Every feature beyond that is for someone else.
This is not a criticism of the apps that have built broad feature sets. They are serving a real market and doing it reasonably well. But there has been a consistent assumption across the category that more features serve everyone better. For the lifter who trains four days a week, programs their own mesocycles, and has been chasing progressive overload for two years, that assumption has never been true.
Why Torqe exists.
After working through every major app on the market and building workarounds for the same missing feature in each one, it became clear that nobody was going to build this from inside a company that needed to serve millions of different users at once. The incentives don't support it.
Torqe was built for one type of lifter. The dedicated one. The one who already has a plan and needs an app that respects it. No AI deciding what to lift, no social feed, no achievement badges. A place to load the program, see targets and actuals side by side, and know the moment each exercise is ready to go heavier. Free, because the cost of running it is almost nothing and the lifter who needs it deserves to have it.
Built for lifters who already know what they're doing.
Load your plan. Track your targets. Add weight when you've earned it. Nothing else.
Download on the App Store → Free. No subscription. No ads. iOS — Android coming soon.