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"I didn’t just survive rock bottom — I studied it, rebuilt from it, and turned it into a system that helps others rise."
— Kevin Len, Founder of Balance Lifestyle Fitness









That’s why I built Balance Lifestyle.
To help people like you turn chaos into clarity, and pressure into power — through holistic fitness, mindset training, and systems that actually fit your life.
If you're tired of surface-level solutions, you're in the right place.
I’m Kevin Len — fitness coach, suicide survivor, music artist, author, and owner of Balance Lifestyle Fitness.
But titles don’t tell the whole story.
What matters most is why I do this.
And none of it matters unless it speaks to you — your struggles, your journey, your desire to feel strong, clear, and confident in your own body and mind.
Because here’s the truth:
I didn’t get here by doing everything right.
I got here by surviving what almost broke me — and learning how to rebuild from it.
I know what it’s like to feel stuck.
To feel like your own mind is working against you.
To crave peace, structure, and purpose — but have no idea where to start.
That’s why I created Balance Lifestyle Fitness:
To help people turn pain into purpose, pressure into power, and survival into self-leadership.
Freshman year of high school, I walked into the weight room for the first time. I didn’t know proper form, training plans, or nutrition — but I knew one thing:
I wanted to feel stronger, more confident, and in control of my life.
At the time, I was just a skinny kid with low self-esteem and no clear direction.
But stepping into the gym became a turning point. It was the first space where I felt like I had agency, a place where effort actually paid off.
Weightlifting for beginners quickly became my obsession — not for looks, but for survival.

I wasn’t just building muscle — I was building mental clarity, stress relief, and a sense of identity.
While other students were catching up on schoolwork during study hall, I was deep-diving into fitness research:
Not for a grade — but because it gave me purpose.
Lifting became my therapy before I even had the language to call it that.
"Strength isn’t just what you lift — it’s what you live through, rise from, and choose to turn into purpose. That’s the kind of power no one can give you — you build it from the inside out."
— Kevin Len
The “Right Path” — And Why I Knew It Wasn’t Mine
I switched my major to Exercise Science.
Not because it was easier. But because it felt right.
Fitness had already changed my life.
Now I wanted to understand it deeply — not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and scientifically.
I didn’t want to be a cop. I wanted to be a coach who actually changes people’s lives.
That’s when I made an oath to myself — one that still drives everything I do today:
“I will work harder than I ever have to make a difference in as many lives as possible.”
I didn’t want to just lift weights anymore.
I wanted to lift people.
Everyone around me saw it as a smart move.
But even before college fully started, I felt it deep in my gut:
This wasn’t it.
I wasn’t passionate about policing.
I didn’t feel called to wear a uniform or enforce laws — I felt called to help people heal, not punish them.
I realized I wasn’t chasing a career — I was running from uncertainty.
And that always leads you in the wrong direction.

Even after switching to Exercise Science, the road wasn’t easy.
I thought I’d finally found alignment. But then came US History, English, Math — classes that had nothing to do with my purpose but could hold back my GPA if I didn’t push through.
Truth is, school didn’t come naturally to me.
But I made a promise to myself — and I wasn’t about to break it.
So I grinded.
I studied nonstop. I stayed up late. I did whatever it took to keep my grades high, not for pride — but to protect the future I was working toward.
📚 Studying up to 6 hours a day after classes
🏋️ Training at the gym or doing home workouts before or after studying
🧠 Balancing Exercise Science with tough subjects like U.S. History, Math, and English
🕒 Staying up late to make sure my GPA didn’t slip
✍️ Taking notes on fitness science, recovery, and programming — even outside of class
💭 Constantly thinking: “If I don’t push now, my future gets delayed.”
As much as I was pushing forward, my mind wouldn’t slow down.
No matter how tired I was, I couldn’t sleep.
I had developed insomnia — not because I wasn’t exhausted, but because my brain just wouldn’t stop running.
“I’d lie in bed wired, overthinking assignments, training plans, my future, everything. I couldn’t shut it off.”
I was never a naturally gifted student — not the type to breeze through exams or memorize facts on the first try.
But I was always respectful, focused, and willing to outwork anyone.
I wasn’t “great at school,” but I was great at giving everything I had.
And college?
College was no joke.
No matter how hard I worked, how disciplined I stayed, or how much I wanted it...
Eventually, my body and mind hit their limit.
The pressure I was carrying — school, workouts, my own expectations — finally cracked through the surface.
I was hospitalized.
Diagnosed with schizophrenia.

In recovery, I was doing everything I could to stay afloat — going to counseling, adjusting to medication, dealing with stress, and trying to manage emotions I never had language for. But healing wasn’t linear.
I went from 180 pounds in college — lean, disciplined, in shape — to over 200 pounds, with every pound gained as body fat. The gym became inconsistent.
My appetite changed. My identity as “the strong one” started to fade.
And the person I saw in the mirror didn’t look like me anymore — physically or mentally. For someone who used fitness as their anchor, it felt like I had lost everything I had built.
But deep down, I knew I wasn’t done — I was just at the bottom. And if I could survive this, I was going to rise again with purpose.
Just as I was trying to navigate my own recovery — emotionally raw, physically drained, and mentally unstable — life hit harder than I ever expected.
My mother was diagnosed with cancer.
There’s no handbook for that moment.
Nothing prepares you to see the strongest person you know become vulnerable overnight.
I felt helpless, angry, and completely powerless.
It didn’t matter how many weights I had lifted in the gym — this was a weight I couldn’t carry or fix.

“She raised me to be strong. And now, I had to figure out how to be strong for her.”
I was already battling my own breakdown, and now I was watching the person who raised me fight for her life.
And yet, I still kept pushing — because giving up wasn’t an option.
The vision I had…
The passion I once felt…
That spark I had in high school when I swore I’d make a difference — it was gone.
I was working retail just to stay afloat.
Clocking in. Clocking out.
Feeling like my life was slipping into survival mode with no real way forward.
And somewhere in that numbness, the dark thoughts came back.

The Thoughts I Never Said Out Loud
I’ve battled suicidal thoughts since late elementary school — long before I ever picked up a dumbbell or dreamed of becoming a coach.
There were nights in middle school, even the start of high school, where I’d open the medicine cabinet and just... stare.
Not for attention.
Not even knowing what I was really looking for.
Just hoping something could silence the storm in my mind.
Usually, there was nothing but Tylenol or Ibuprofen — nothing serious.
And maybe that’s what saved me. For years, those shelves stayed untouched.
Until one night… they didn’t.
I took the whole bottle.
Four, five handfuls. Swallowed it all.
No note. No call for help.
Just silence. And sleep.
I didn’t tell anyone.
I just went to bed, hoping not to wake up.
But my body wasn’t done fighting.
That night, my body worked overtime — sweating, shaking, purging.
It was like my system knew I still had something left to live for…
Even if I didn’t.
“My body clocked into the night shift — even when my mind had clocked out.”
Somehow, my body had flushed everything out. I didn’t need my stomach pumped.
But I still ended up at ECMC.
I wasn’t there because of the pills still in my system.
I was there because I was a flight risk — because I truly didn’t want to be here anymore.
I wasn’t looking for attention. I wasn’t trying to make a scene.
I just wanted the pain to stop. The heaviness. The hopelessness. The feeling that no matter how hard I tried, I was always one step behind life.
“I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want to feel like this anymore.”
They watched me carefully — not because of what I had done, but because of where my mind still was.
I didn’t see a future. I didn’t see myself as valuable.
I didn’t think there was a version of me worth saving.
But I was wrong.
The Rebuild — How I Got My Body, Mind, and Mission Back
Coming back wasn’t overnight.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was intentional.
I started hitting my workouts again — not to chase a look, but to reconnect with my strength.
I began talking to people, letting myself be seen, even in the discomfort.
I returned to reading and writing, diving into self-development, journaling, studying the mind, and healing the parts of me that lifting alone couldn’t touch.
It reminded me of why I started in the first place — that fire I had as a kid just trying to fit in, now returning with purpose.
And through all of it, I held onto the oath I made years earlier:
“If I survive this, I will make a difference in as many lives as I can.”
My story became my strength.
Not just in the workouts I coach, but in the life I’ve endured.
This time, I wasn’t training just to escape pain.
I was training to lead, to teach, to help others rise from their own rock bottom.
And through it all —
My mother is now cancer-free.
That fact alone reminds me daily:
We can come back from anything.

"My why is simple: I know what it’s like to feel lost, stuck, and disconnected from yourself. Fitness helped me rebuild — not just my body, but my mind, my purpose, and my life. Now I teach others how to do the same, with real tools, real structure, and a system that holds even when life doesn’t."



“Strength isn’t just what you lift — it’s what you hold onto when everything tries to break you.”
A Powerful Reminder: Strength Isn’t Just Physical. It’s Emotional, Communal, and Built Together.
In a world that often divides, the gym can be one of the few places where people of all backgrounds, struggles, and stories come together — not to compete, but to evolve. Side by side, strangers become supporters. Encouragement replaces ego. And healing happens one rep, one kind word, one shared experience at a time.
You never know who’s fighting silent battles behind the barbell.
You never know whose day you’ll change with a simple nod, a spot, or a “You got this.”
Because real strength is shared.
And when we stop trying to outshine each other and start lifting each other — we all rise.

When you take care of yourself — mentally, physically, emotionally — and surround yourself with a positive environment, something shifts.
When you commit to taking care of yourself — body, mind, and soul — everything begins to change. The gym becomes more than just a workout; it becomes a place to rebuild confidence, reconnect with your worth, and shift your entire mindset. Healing doesn’t just happen in therapy — it happens in every rep, every routine, and every moment you choose to show up.
Where lyrics meet healing — and rhythm meets reality.
Music has always been more than a background sound for me.
It’s been my release. My therapy. My lifeline.
Long before I had a platform or a business, I had a notebook and a beat — and I poured everything into it.
Through every hospital stay, every dark night, every breakthrough… music was there.
And I realized, the same way I could lift weights to build my body — I could write verses to rebuild my soul.
I don’t create music to go viral. I create it to go deeper — to speak truth in ways the fitness industry often doesn’t.
Because not everyone is ready for a coach, a course, or a gym.
But a song? That can reach someone in their room at 2 a.m.
That can say what they’re too afraid to tell their friends.
That can pull them back from the edge.
“Every bar I write is therapy — for me, and maybe for someone else too.”
— Kevin Len
My lyrics reflect what I’ve lived:


Music, like fitness, is part of the lifestyle I coach —
Because true health isn’t just about food and training.
It’s emotional. It’s expressive. It’s soulful.
And for some people, music becomes the first step toward healing.
That’s why I make what I make.
Not just tracks — but tools for transformation.
that you deserve to know how to lead your own life.
When I couldn’t afford coaching, I turned to writing.
When my mind felt broken, I turned to reflection.
And over time, the words that once helped me survive started turning into guides to help others thrive.
I write these books not because I have all the answers —
but because I remember what it’s like to have none…
to feel lost in a sea of conflicting advice, trends, and self-doubt.
Each eBook is a compass —
for your mindset, your fitness, your nutrition, and your healing.
Not to control you — but to remind you that you’ve always had the power.

"True abundance isn’t found by chasing one goal — it’s built by nurturing every part of you. When health, love, purpose, and growth align, life stops feeling like a race and starts feeling like a rhythm."
I didn’t just survive my lowest point — I studied it, rebuilt from it, and turned it into a system that now helps others rise.
That’s what Balance Lifestyle Fitness is:
Not just workouts, not just coaching — but a structure that transforms mental, physical, and emotional pain into strength, clarity, and leadership.
You’re not weak for struggling.
You’re human.
But with the right support, tools, and mindset — you don’t just bounce back…
You build forward.
If you’ve read this far, I want you to know this:
You're not alone.
You’re not broken.
And no matter where you're starting from — there’s a way back.
Whether you're dealing with stress, burnout, anxiety, or just feel lost…
You can lead yourself out of it.
And when you do — you’ll lead others too.



You’re not alone. And neither are the people you care about.
Here are trusted, professional resources that save lives:
Results may vary. Always consult with your physician before starting any fitness or nutrition program.