About Kris Oddo

How it started

Kris has been in the weight room more than half his life. It started at twelve, when his dad bought him a weight set. His dad was his hero and his first picture of what strength looked like. Kris wanted to get stronger for sports, but there was a deeper pull too: he wanted to become more like the man he looked up to most.

After his dad passed away, that influence stayed at the center of why fitness matters to him. Training was never just about looking better. It was a way to build discipline, confidence, and a standard he could carry forward.

Through school and into college it was mostly sports and instinct. He had decent genetics — abs and forearm veins he never had to work for — but he was a lean 130 pounds and wanted real size. There was no influencer playbook to copy yet; he learned by paying attention and putting in years.

The lock-in

The real turning point was 2020. Gyms closed, and Kris and a cousin started training in a garage every single day. The cousin drilled his form, the consistency stopped being optional, and for the first time Kris paired the training with actual attention to nutrition. That was the stretch where it clicked — and it still took a few years of steady work before he had a physique that genuinely stood out.

It wasn't a straight line. There were stretches in college — freshman and sophomore year — where the gym got skipped, the drinking won, and the eating fell apart. He always came back. That matters, because it's the same thing he now tells clients: falling off isn't the disqualifier. The restart is the skill.

Kris's own transformation

Kris did not start as the finished-product version people see now. He started lean, under-muscled, and trying to figure out how to turn effort into actual size.

The difference came from the same boring levers he coaches now: consistent resistance training, better food decisions, enough protein, progressive overload, and staying with the process long enough for it to show.

That is why his coaching is practical. He knows what it is like to want the change before you fully know how to build it, and he knows how much the plan has to survive normal life if the result is going to last.

From training himself to coaching others

Kris didn't set out to be a coach. Friends started asking him for help — how to train, what to eat — and he gave it. The difference was that it worked for them. Watching other people get real results off his guidance was the moment it shifted from a hobby to a direction: he actually knew what he was doing, and he could hand it to someone else.

He earned his NASM-CPT and started coaching for real. An early stretch as a sponsored brand athlete didn't pay the bills, so coaching — the part that was already working — became the whole thing. Geebs Coaching grew out of that: not a business plan, a track record.

Why men 25-40, and why 1:1 only

Kris coaches men 25-40 — many of them business owners and people carrying real responsibility. It's a deliberate focus. These are men with demanding weeks who have usually already tried the apps and the influencer plans, and what they need isn't another template. They need a program built around their actual life and a coach who knows them.

That's why Geebs is 1:1 only — no team, no assistants, no copy-paste plans. Every program, every daily accountability message, every weekly check-in call, every adjustment comes directly from Kris. He keeps the roster small on purpose, because the coaching only works if the coach actually knows the client.

The coaching style is direct. If something in your training or your week isn't working, Kris will tell you plainly — not to be harsh, but because you can't fix what nobody names. Messaging access has no cap; he would rather you ask a question than guess. The goal isn't to keep you dependent. It's to coach you until you can run it yourself.