Let’s be honest, I have a soft spot for people who keep re-inventing themselves but never lose sight of who they really are. So, when I sat down to talk with Yaron Silberman, it stuck with me. And not just because the guy has a backstory that’s basically a masterclass in how to turn setbacks into launchpads.

Yaron’s early years? He was in motion, literally. Hockey, soccer, lacrosse, and, for good measure, a healthy dose of beach volleyball. (Canada to the States. If you’ve ever moved as a kid, you know that’s its own Olympic event.) Then, as it sometimes goes, a serious injury closed the door on contact sports. But here’s the thing: it didn’t kill his drive to perform. He pivoted. Became a personal trainer, started coaching classes, and before you could blink, he’s managing teams of trainers. For the record, within six months at Gold’s Gym, he was top 20 nationwide for sessions delivered and client return. (I’d call that “results-driven,” but that’s underselling it.)

Now, two things about Yaron jumped out at me right away.

First: He doesn’t just talk the talk—he runs the experiments on himself. Partnered with a chef and launched a meal-prep company that, get this, portions meals to hit your exact macronutrient targets. Not “high protein” or “ballpark it.” I’m talking plus or minus two grams, per macro, per meal. Yaron put himself through the protocol—body fat from 22% to 6%, and he cut his gym days nearly in half. That’s not just “eat your veggies and trust me.” That’s “I proved it, so you don’t have to take it on faith.”

Second: He lets the data do the talking. Inside his company, he ran an honest-to-goodness A/B test: standard meal plans vs. macro-tailored. The result? 130% bump in lifetime value, 90% spike in average weekly spend, and retention like you wouldn’t believe. (In an industry where, trust me, loyalty is as rare as a unicorn at a dog park.) That’s how you win a “commodity war”—you measure what matters, and you don’t get sentimental about the rest.

Eventually, Yaron steps out of the gym and into the tech world—Atmosphere, the silent video folks lighting up bars and restaurants. Then came a layoff. (We’ve all been there or know someone who has.) Yaron, being Yaron, decided that if he was going to pivot again, he’d do it toward harder problems—with fewer scripts. He asked his dad (who happens to have a computer science PhD) for advice. The answer: data science. So, he went all-in, finished at the top of the University of Texas program, and jumped into PR Lab. Started as an account manager (just to finish his coursework) and then (because he can’t help himself) took on the website, NetSuite, Salesforce, and every integration under the sun. Before long, he was the guy people called for anything even remotely tech.

Today, Yaron’s building AI foundations—and he draws a line in the sand: no hallucinations, especially for anything health-related. He’s building with accuracy, precision, and recall targets that leave zero room for error. Why? Because, as he puts it, “there’s very little margin for error here.” It’s the same principle from client training days: if he can’t validate a method himself (or with people who do the work), he won’t ask someone else to trust it.

So, what do I take away from Yaron’s journey? There’s a playbook here for anyone looking to level up, regardless of discipline:

• Start with the human. Yaron’s macro service didn’t just serve food; it connected the trainer, client, and kitchen so the plan matched the person.
• Instrument the system. Don’t guess if it’s working; prove it. His A/B test wasn’t a vanity exercise, it was critical to his customer’s success.
• Earn trust with precision. Whether it’s meal portions within two grams or ML models within strict thresholds, the work is specific on purpose.

If you’re staring down a career shift or just want to climb a new learning curve, Yaron’s path is a blueprint: keep your edge, carry forward what makes you effective, and then point it at bigger, harder problems. That’s not just changing jobs—that’s changing your trajectory.

And if you need someone to help you build the guardrails, well, you know where to find us. (And no, I don’t do meal prep, but I do believe in the data.)