From YouTube To iFIT: How Darryl “BullyJuice” Williams Built A Multi-Million-Dollar Fitness Brand That Meets People Where They Are
Most of us didn’t grow up watching our mothers work out. Not because they didn’t care about their health, but because they were usually doing the emotional (and sometimes physical) […] The post From YouTube To iFIT: How Darryl “BullyJuice” Williams Built A Multi-Million-Dollar Fitness Brand That Meets People Where They Are appeared first on Essence.
Most of us didn’t grow up watching our mothers work out.
Not because they didn’t care about their health, but because they were usually doing the emotional (and sometimes physical) labor of doing everything else for our families. Instead, we saw them cooking, cleaning, taking care of the bills, raising children, and so much more that a regular gym membership or a morning run never quite made the list.
Darryl “BullyJuice” Williams has spent years thinking about what that looks like for the daughters (and even sons) who grew up watching that, and what it takes to build a routine when you’ve never seen one up close. Williams has been asking that question for years, and the answer became the foundation for his 45-day program. Right now, it’s reaching more people than he ever expected.
Earlier this year, the Dallas-based Air Force veteran became the inaugural athlete of iFIT Next, a new talent accelerator from the connected fitness platform iFIT, designed to bring emerging fitness voices onto a global stage. He launched his 45-Day Bodyweight Strength Program on the platform, and the people he had in mind while designing it were not the ones who already have a routine. They were the ones who are still trying to find a reason to start.
When Williams first started posting in 2015, fitness wasn’t even part of the plan. The name BullyJuice came from his American Bullies, the dogs he was training, running with, and building custom beds and houses for. His wife, who had been building her own YouTube presence around makeup and lifestyle content, was the one who encouraged him to get in front of a camera. The workout content came later, growing out of his role as a physical training leader in the Air Force, where figuring out how to get people who weren’t natural athletes into fighting shape was literally part of the job.
He was filming before work and editing after, having traded his video gaming habit for a camera, and the audience grew steadily until COVID happened. His commander sent him an email asking to share his videos with troops quarantined in the dorms. He realized then that people weren’t just watching. They were depending on it. “It’s not like, ‘Oh, I just want to work out,'” Williams says. “Now it’s like, okay, people that actually need to stay in shape military-wise, it’s your job.” Five years of posting, and it took a pandemic for the scale of what he was building to fully land.
Before the Air Force, Williams ran track at N.C. A&T, and that background shows up in everything he builds. He doesn’t believe you need a gym, equipment, or an existing relationship with fitness to show up, a conviction that came directly from training troops in formation, everyone doing the same squats and pushups and windmills together, no weight room required. What refined it further was his time doing reconditioning PT, working with service members who had already failed their fitness tests and had six months to pass or face separation from the military. “I can run forever at the time,” he says of that season. “But I had to think about how to get this person to the finish line.” It’s the same patience he brings to every workout he builds today.
An injury during Trainer Games forced him to take stock of his own body in a way he hadn’t expected, returning to movements he had long taken for granted. “I was somewhat of a beginner again when it came to certain movements,” he says. “That put me back in that beginner position, keeps it at the forefront.” iFIT signed him as the inaugural iFIT Next athlete anyway.
Williams has talked about this openly, with his wife, with his mother, and now with six million members. His wife, a former track athlete he met at A&T, didn’t prioritize working out until she completed his 45-day challenge. His mother was the same way. The barriers, he knows, are layered. Time, prioritization, access, and something that goes back further than any of that. “If you don’t see your mother working out,” he says, “then a lot of times the daughter might not think… subconsciously, it’s not imprinted on her to work out.” Getting more Black women moving, he believes, starts with changing what the next generation grows up seeing at home.
When I asked Williams what success actually looks like at this point in his life, he didn’t mention the platform or the deal. “If I’m not in the room, if I’m not here, if I’m someplace else, what does my family say about me?” He told me about a young man who approached him at a track not long ago, nearly in tears, telling him how much he looked up to him. Williams didn’t know anything about the kid’s home situation. But the feeling people carry with them when they leave, that’s what he’s actually chasing. That hasn’t changed, no matter how big the platform gets. “I’m not driven by a paycheck,” he says. “I’m driven by what I feel like I was put here to do.”
The post From YouTube To iFIT: How Darryl “BullyJuice” Williams Built A Multi-Million-Dollar Fitness Brand That Meets People Where They Are appeared first on Essence.
