How diet, data, and discipline powered Kenneth Bednarek’s stunning 9.86 in Philadelphia
There’s a number that echoes in my mind every time I watch Kenneth Bednarek, also known as Kung Fu Kenny, explode out of the blocks: 9.86. That’s his personal best in the 100 metres. It’s the kind of time that demands silence before applause. It stops conversation. It changes the narrative.
But the question remains: is that time the result of intense practice, precise nutrition, or just pure luck?
Let me tell you what I know from being on the inside. No one lands a 9.86 by chance. You don’t roll out of bed, sip a protein shake, lace up your spikes, and touch that number.
9.86 is earned.
When Kenny joined my programme, he was already an Olympics silver medallist and a World Championship medallist. He had the accolades. He had the raw material. But he came with something more important — questions. He wanted to know how to go faster, how to recover better.
The first clue was in his blood. Inflammation markers hovered at borderline levels. There were signs of gut distress, including blood in his stool and occasional constipation. Most would have dismissed it. I did not. To me, that was noise in the system. And noise slows you down.
We eliminated gluten from day one. Within a week, he reported clearer skin, better bowel movements, no more bloating, and lighter energy. The inflammation dropped, and so did his internal stress. This wasn’t just about avoiding a food group — it was about removing friction from the engine.
From there, we built what I call a performance ecosystem. Every gram of carbohydrate, every drop of liquid, every supplement is designed to perform a job. Training happens once or twice a day. Nutrition happens 24 hours a day. That’s the difference.
Kenny trains in fasted states twice a week, but never close to race day. His fasted runs in the morning push mitochondrial adaptation. We fine-tune when to feed, when to supplement, and when to hold back. The timing of his meals changes based on training loads and travel schedules.
Speaking of travel, our approach borders on military logistics. He flies with a customised supplement bag — double-locked, colour-coded, with customs clearance papers in place. He packs jerky, nuts, dried prunes, chamomile gummies, and sealed electrolyte sachets. Whether he’s in Kenya or Paris, he never eats off-plan. That’s not discipline. That’s professionalism.
Race day? That’s another beast.
The protocol is rehearsed weeks in advance. One hour before warm-up, Kenny takes a specific dose of pre-workout and BCAAs — not exceeding 10 grams. Then comes an isotonic sports drink or plain water. Thirty minutes out: a cold banana or caffeine slush. Beta-alanine only if he’s not experiencing itchiness. We avoid surprises. We build a routine.
What about supplements? We made the full switch to Klean Athlete — BCAAs, creatine, ATP, multivitamins, glutamine. All WADA-compliant. All batch-tested. No mystery ingredients. We also use red light therapy, sauna, and cold plunges. Recovery is a full-time strategy.
Now let’s talk about food.
Kenny’s chef isn’t just a cook — he’s an engineer of biology. Every plate is crafted for hormonal balance, digestive support, and immune resilience. Pineapple rinds for bromelain. Prunes for fibre. Broccoli and asparagus to manage testosterone pathways. Garlic for natural defence. Even bedtime snacks are evaluated for their impact on sleep cycles.
This leads us to a critical truth: Kenny’s sleep is sacred. Ten-thirty to seven-thirty. No compromise. Magnesium before bed. Melatonin only when travelling. Ambient room setup, blackout curtains, and digital detox. If sleep is broken, performance is broken.
Still think 9.86 is luck?
Let me tell you what people don’t see. Kenny logs his breathing patterns during training. He tracks his HRV. He fasts once a month on rest days to induce cellular renewal. He avoids gluten like it’s poison. He monitors muscle stiffness with his physio. And he doesn’t eat a single piece of food without understanding its function.
In the off-season, he tested a vegetarian diet for five days. Why? To reduce inflammatory load and check his heart rate baseline. That’s not an experiment — that’s data gathering. It worked. His resting heart rate dipped. His energy stayed consistent.
And let’s be honest. Kenny is not just an athlete. He’s a machine of intent. He visualises his races. He journals his reactions. He adapts supplement timing based on sleep quality and soreness. He adds manuka honey and zinc carnosine when immune flags go up. He responds to his body like a scientist and performs like an artist.
People often ask me what makes an athlete elite. The answer isn’t medals. It’s awareness. It’s ownership. It’s the willingness to invest in your biology as much as your speed.
So, was 9.86 born from practice? Absolutely. Kenny trains with intensity you can feel in the air. His sprint mechanics, gym routines, and mobility drills are obsessive in detail.
Was it nutrition? Without question.
The man eats to win. And every bite is aligned to purpose.
Was it luck? Not a chance. If there was luck, it was in the fortune of finding the right tribe. The right team. The right plan.
As I always tell Kenny, the podium isn’t built on game day. It’s built in your choices. The extra hour of sleep. The meal you packed instead of ordered. The recovery you respected instead of skipped.
That’s where the real medals are made. When I watched him hit 9.86, I didn’t just see speed. I saw every prune packed before a flight. Every stretch held 10 seconds longer. Every cold shower, magnesium dose, and food diary entry.
So, let’s call it what it is.
Not practice. Not nutrition. Not luck. It’s Kung Fu Kenny.
And it’s deliberate excellence.
