Your plan reads what you actually did.

Everything on it earns its place.

No feed, no streaks, no library of 400 workouts to pick from. One session, the exercises it contains, the weight you should be putting on the bar, and rest timers wired into the rows that need them.

The ringed dot is the engine's call for today. The others stay reachable. It's a recommendation, not a lock.

A plan that ignores your week isn't a plan.

Hangboarding on fingers still cooked from Tuesday isn't training, it's how pulleys go. A printed 12-week programme has no idea you climbed hard yesterday, or that you've had three days on the trot.

Fingers get their own recovery ceiling, separate from the systemic one, because connective tissue adapts slower than muscle. That's the rule that will tell you to rest.

It only prescribes what you can actually do.

A hangboard or any decent edge is the floor. A pull-up bar or gym unlocks the pulling sessions. Got a pickup rig and prefer it? It becomes your main finger lift instead of hangs.

No kit means no filler: your pull day shortens honestly rather than inventing exercises to fill the slot.

There's no beginner tier, on purpose.

It was removed rather than hidden. Under a couple of years in, structured finger training is close to the worst use of your time and a decent way to get hurt. The floor is intermediate: roughly V3–V6 or French 6a–6c.

If that's not you yet: go climb a lot, get good at moving, come back. That advice costs a sale and it's still the right advice.

You see the whole plan before you start.

Phases, deload weeks, and what changes when, laid out up front. Change your mind later in Settings and the plan updates from that day forward. Your logged history, block and week count carry on exactly where they were.