One of the most closely watched and oddly praised changes in professional sports in recent years has been Bryson DeChambeau’s weight gain. His physical transformation, which involved gaining over 40 pounds in less than a year, was not only extraordinarily successful, but also remarkably deliberate. DeChambeau treated his body like a science experiment, mixing weightlifting, biomechanical theory, and calorie surpluses to create a version of himself that the sport had never seen before, in contrast to other golfers who might aim for slight improvements in swing speed or consistency.

DeChambeau intensified his carefully engineered metamorphosis during the 2020 lockdown. He changed from having a lean frame to something more like an NFL linebacker by eating an average of 3,500 calories a day, which included six protein drinks, and training weights five days a week. He pushed above 240 pounds at his heaviest, which increased his swing speed to around 140 mph and his ball speed to almost 200 mph. The outcomes were immediately apparent. He led the PGA Tour with average driving distance at more than 320 yards and blasted a 365-yard drive at the Charles Schwab Challenge in June of that year.
Bryson DeChambeau
Field | Information |
---|---|
Full Name | Bryson James Aldrich DeChambeau |
Birthdate | September 16, 1993 |
Height | 6 ft 1 in (1.85 m) |
Nationality | American |
Turned Professional | 2016 |
Major Wins | U.S. Open 2020, U.S. Open 2024 |
Affiliation | LIV Golf, formerly PGA Tour |
Notable Physical Shift | Gained approx. 40 pounds (18+ kg) between 2019–2020 |
Weight Range | From ~195 lbs (88 kg) to ~240 lbs (109 kg), now leaner in 2024 |
Official Source |
He became a polarizing and magnetic presence on the course. The fans were taken aback. Critics wanted to know. The sustainability of such rapid mass was disputed by many. DeChambeau, who is renowned for his analytical thinking and methodical approach, thoroughly embraced the persona of golf’s “mad scientist.” Despite being out of the ordinary, the experiment was especially novel in its purpose: to demonstrate that power and speed could be developed rather than simply innate. And it was successful. By converting par-4s into wedges and par-5s into eagle possibilities, he overcame a famously challenging course to win the 2020 U.S. Open at Winged Foot.
However, by 2024, a change had occurred. Bryson’s body appeared lighter, slimmer, and more nimble. In order to achieve long-term equilibrium rather than maximal mass, he had peeled away some of the bulk. Before the LIV Golf Team Championship, DeChambeau stated bluntly, “You can say I was fat.” This was a refreshingly honest moment. It’s alright. That degree of self-awareness indicated an honest assessment of the cost of his previous approach rather than a retreat from it. After pushing the boundaries of his body’s capabilities, he was now modifying the parameters for sustainability.
Although the change had greatly enhanced power, he pointed out that this did not always convert into energy efficiency or functional strength. He clarified, “I feel stronger now than I did when I was at my heaviest,” implying that physical size isn’t always a sign of superior performance. He learned the limits of physical stress, endurance, and acceleration during the weight increase phase—an intense phase.
Crucially, he still keeps up the majority of the speed that makes his lengthy drives newsworthy. He remarked, “I still have that speed inherently in me.” “I can reach [ball speed] of 205 in 15 balls.” But there is no longer any careless pressing every day. He now trains more intelligently, emphasizing injury avoidance and tournament longevity.
His change is in line with a larger trend in sports. From Serena Williams to LeBron James, top athletes are becoming more concerned with efficiency, recuperation, and durability rather than daily maximal performance. This perspective is remarkably similar to DeChambeau’s scenario. It wasn’t a botched experiment; rather, it was a data collection phase and a deeply personal experience that influenced his perspective on performance and self-care.
DeChambeau’s drastic physical transformations caused a stir in the golf community as well. In response to Bryson’s domination, Rory McIlroy and others publicly discussed bulking up, acknowledging that the advantage he acquired required notice. Bryson viewed this as constructive rivalry rather than imitation. He remarked, “I think that’s a ton of respect.” “No one wants to fall behind, even though we are all fiercely competitive.”
Of particular importance is the wider socioeconomic impact. Conversations about power, fitness, and muscle are changing the perception of golf, which has historically been seen as a game of control, rhythm, and delicacy. DeChambeau’s ascent gave the sport a new athletic vitality that helped it better meet the changing demands of the general public for contemporary sportsmen. His transition from medium to XL shirts represented more than just a change in style; it was a sign of his drive, daring, and creativity.
However, there were trade-offs. That amount of speed training is physically taxing. Joints are strained by excess weight. The control of nutrients gets increasingly complicated. Bryson found that while preserving functional form under competitive pressure is far more difficult, gaining size is quite easy with discipline. That lesson is reflected in his present physique, which is more streamlined, effective, and suited to the demands of four-day major championships than it is to physical force alone.
His own statements now suggest a pragmatic worldview. “I worked it out,” he declared. “I’m really at ease right now, and I keep getting a little bit stronger.” He made it clear that gaining weight was a means to a performance goal, a race toward a single advantage in a single phase, and that it had nothing to do with appearances or ego. He is now preparing for the long haul.