Our Story

Why 150?

Because I want my parents alive for 150 years. Not metaphorically. Literally. I love them. Mad love. The kind that builds gyms instead of rental income.

Project 150 gym at night with sign lit up and equipment inside
PROJECT 150. Could've been a rental agreement. Became a love letter with barbells.

The number isn't marketing

People hear "Project 150" and think it's a brand. It's not. It's a target. 150 years. Dad is 74. Mom is 66. The math is obvious if you're willing to look at it without flinching.

I believe with today's technology, better food, daily movement, and enough will from all of us, the curve bends. We're not waiting for a miracle. We're stacking small advantages until biology has to pay attention.

What's the point of me making money if I can't make them live longer? What's the point of any of it if they're not at the table?

The sensible option I ignored

I could have given this space for development. Rented it out. Built something commercial. Made money. The kind of decision financial advisors nod at while sipping filter coffee.

Instead I built a gym. Put a sign on it. Stocked it with equipment. And waited for my parents, Dad 74, Mom 66, to walk in like eager fitness influencers.

They did not. Horses, water, you know the quote.

The blood reports

In May 2026, I looked at their reports from Tata 1mg and GVK Diagnostics. Sugar high. Iron low. Vitamin D pretending it didn't exist. Heart markers doing things hearts shouldn't brag about.

Every doctor said lifestyle. Diet. Movement. Sleep. The greatest hits. My parents nodded. Went home. Life continued. Because humans are humans.

The reports didn't scare me into action. They clarified what I already knew. Time is the asset. Everything else is noise. We log trends on The Numbers page.

Bring water to the horse

I wasn't going to drag anyone anywhere. Dad wasn't going to crave a 6 AM jog. Mom wasn't going to delete rice from her emotional support system overnight.

But I could bring water to the horse. Gym at the gate. No commute, no excuses about distance. Telugu food charts on the kitchen wall. Recipes laminated like a very niche restaurant. Medication alarms. Walk times that don't depend on someone's memory.

Love isn't a speech. Love is infrastructure.

What Project 150 actually is

Yes, it's a gym. Dumbbells. Mirrors. A sign that looks incredible at night. I'm not dressing it up as a "wellness journey."

But it's not a business. No join button. No monthly fee. No before-and-after photos. No coach selling supplements with a smile that hurts.

It's a son who loves his parents enough to pick them over rental income. The pitch deck is one slide: I want you here.

What I actually want

Not their approval. Not a thank-you speech. Not a legacy project with good optics.

I want them at the table. I want Mom's voice on the phone. I want Dad complaining about the walk schedule. I want ordinary Tuesdays that keep happening for decades.

150 years sounds insane until you realize how short 80 feels when you love someone. Then it just sounds like a start.

Dedication

To Nithya

Project 150 started with my parents. But this gym, this kitchen, this whole obsession with stacking years, runs on you too.

You delivered twins in June 2024. Your blood work was a mess. Thyroid off. Vitamin D missing. Iron low. Inflammation high. You were tired for reasons that made sense. You still chose discipline when comfort was easier.

You trained Monday through Friday. Walked every day. Ate clean. Took the meds. Fixed the deficiencies. Lost 8.3 kg and 8.5 inches off your waist in eight weeks. Not for a photo. For yourself. For our kids. For the long game we're all on.

I built Project 150 because I want my parents for 150 years. You showed me what one person can do when they decide to stay. Mad love. Always.

See her progress summary →

Charts and recipes are in Telugu because that's what gets read at home. This site is English. Same rules, two scripts.

"I love my parents. I built them a gym. I named it after how long I want them around. One of those is romantic. One is slightly unhinged. All of it is true."