Everything that changed inside the app, in the order it reached you. We're building metrIQ in the open — including the parts we got wrong the first time.
When you logged a meal, a swim or a weigh-in, the confirmation often came back reading like a filed record rather than a reply. She says it to you now — what you had or did, one thing worth knowing about it, in a sentence you could imagine her saying out loud.
Logging a meal could come back with a confirmation that named the session around it — a swim before it, a run after it — when you had said nothing of the kind and nothing was in your diary. She was guessing from habit, and on the day the habit changes she would have been confidently wrong. She only refers to a session now if you told her about it or it is already logged.
When you logged a meal, she sometimes slipped a figure into the confirmation — how much protein was in it, roughly how many calories — worked out before your food had even been saved. It could be wrong, and you had no way to tell. She will not put a figure in that sentence now unless it is one you typed yourself.
The short line under a logged meal or weigh-in could not see your conversation, so it sometimes contradicted what Sophia had told you minutes earlier, or pushed you to tighten up on a day she had just called fine. She reads that conversation before she writes the line now, and the card sounds like one person the whole way down.
Around two weeks in, Sophia now gets in touch in the app with what your logging already shows — whether your body is doing what your plan predicted, or whether the two have started to part. It is a first look rather than the verdict: that one comes at three weeks, once there is enough of a stretch to compare properly.
Name something from My Foods when you log — "200ml almond milk", or a coffee made with it — and Sophia sometimes estimated it from scratch anyway, or counted the wrong amount of it. The same drink could land three different ways in a week. metrIQ now works out how much of your saved food you named before she answers, so the entry carries the numbers you saved and the amount you actually said.
If you finished setting up on a laptop, metrIQ offered to install itself there — not much use for an app you check between sets. On a computer you now get a code to scan with your phone's camera instead, so metrIQ lands on the home screen where you'll actually open it. And on a phone whose browser won't offer one-tap install, we now show you the two taps that do.
Telling Sophia about a food that merely resembled something in My Foods could log the saved one instead — a breadstick recorded as a slice of bread, at the saved food's calories rather than the ones you gave. She now sticks to what you actually said, and a food you have not saved is counted on its own.
metrIQ can now live on your phone like any other app — full-screen, one tap away, and no App Store needed. We'll offer it when you finish setting up, and you can add it any time from the menu.
Opening metrIQ with no connection used to drop you on the browser's own error page, which looked like the app had broken. You now get a metrIQ screen that tells you what's happened, reassures you nothing you logged is lost, and takes you back the moment you're online again.
Signing up asked for your name and email, said it had sent a six-digit code, and then no code ever arrived — there was no way to finish creating an account. The code now lands in your inbox, and entering it takes you straight into your first day with Sophia.
Instead of emailing you a link, we email you a six-digit code you type straight into metrIQ. It means signing in now works properly when you've added metrIQ to your home screen — and you can read the code off the notification without even opening your mail.
If you'd paused your plan for a scheduled break or a stretch of recovery, Sophia's check-ins could still call those weeks a stall once it ended — and never mentioned a break was running in the first place. Held weeks no longer count against you, and her weekly note now says plainly when you're on a break.
The line Sophia writes under each entry had started repeating itself several times a day, and occasionally described your whole day as though it were one meal. She now speaks up when something has actually changed, and otherwise tells you plainly where the day stands — using the numbers from your log rather than her own arithmetic.
She could read a weight trend that was moving exactly as planned as a stall, and say so more than once in the same conversation. Now her read of your weight is checked against your own plan's pace, and she waits until there is enough of it before drawing a conclusion.
Looking back over your week, she could mix up which days you trained and which you rested — and then build advice on top of it, pointing at the wrong days entirely. She now sees your training and your eating for each day together, so what she notices actually happened.
A weekly check-in could quote a figure that didn't match your log, or mention something you'd told Sophia in chat as though it were established fact. Check-ins are now written only from what's actually recorded, and every number in one comes straight from your data.
We fixed this in August and it came back wearing different words — an evening snack would come back as "a light close to your day" with dinner still to come. Rather than asking her again, we now check the sentence before you see it. If it says your day is over, it doesn't reach you.
Asking Sophia to add something to a meal you had already logged — "add a protein bar to my breakfast" — could quietly remove the rest of that meal instead of adding to it, while telling you it had been added. Nothing gets removed on a turn like that any more, and Sophia hands the change to your coach so what you asked for is what happens.
Now and then Sophia would save what you told her and then answer with an empty message, so it looked as though the log had failed when it hadn't. You always get a reply confirming what went in.
Every so often, opening the sign-in page showed an error instead of the form — most often if you were already signed in and clicked through to it. It now loads reliably, and if you are already signed in it takes you straight to your day.
When she reaches out first, she now leads with something of yours — a number from your own week — before she asks for anything, and she asks for one thing at most. She will not read averages or pace off a day or two of logging any more: if there isn't enough there to say something true, she waits. And if you haven't felt like replying, she quietly drops back to just the weekly check-in.
Ask her what to eat and she used to reach for the same handful of generic meals everyone gets. She now starts from what you have already planned on your menu, then from the foods you have saved and eat most — and when she has nothing to go on yet, she asks what you usually keep in rather than guessing.
She used to comment only when something stood out, which meant most meals got a tick and nothing else. Now every meal, weigh-in and workout comes back with a line from her about what it means for your day — written on the entry itself, right under the numbers.
On a day where you were under on calories but over on protein, Sophia's note could tell you that you were over on both — while the card right above it showed calories still to spend. She was reading the two budgets as one figure. She reads them separately now, so a note never contradicts the numbers beside it.
An afternoon snack came back as "a sweet finish to the day" with dinner still hours away, and the note underneath it was telling you to go and enjoy that dinner. She was reading the last thing you logged as the last thing you would log. She no longer decides your day is over — she talks about the meal in front of her and leaves the rest of your evening to you.
When you asked Sophia to plan a day, the card she offered took you to the Menu the first time and then did nothing on every tap after that. It works whenever you tap it now — and it says which day it will build, so you can see she understood you before you go.
Sophia could congratulate you for the same milestone twice — once in chat when you crossed it, then again days later in a message of its own, as though she had just noticed. The two were keeping separate notes and neither read the other's. She keeps one now, so a beat she has already marked stays marked.
She decided what to say early each morning and sent it hours later, so anything you logged in between was missing from it — she could tell you the scale was down on a day it had gone up. She now re-reads your data as she writes, and holds a message back when what prompted it is no longer true. Your change since the plan started follows your trend too, so one heavy morning cannot rewrite it.
Her note on a log could say you were well over halfway through the day's calories when you had barely touched them. She now reads how much of your budget is actually gone before she says anything about how far along you are, so an early lunch reads as an early lunch.
Your first days used to end with a vague promise that your numbers would sharpen eventually. Now she names the day your first weekly read lands, sends you a figure from your own logs a few days before it, and turns up on the day she said — even if the honest answer is that there wasn't enough logged yet to read.
Once you’ve logged your first day she offers “How am I doing so far?” — a read on the days you’ve actually got, falling back to what your plan asks of you when they’re still too few to say much. “What should I focus on?” now waits until you’ve logged four days, so it looks back over something real instead of asking about a week that hasn’t happened yet.
Log a walk or a session and Sophia now tells you what it did to the rest of your day — that it bought back a little room, and where that room is useful. Your training and your eating are one budget here, so the moment one moves the other, she says so rather than leaving you to spot it on the card.
Her notes after a log used to need a couple of weeks of history behind them, so your first week could pass without one. Now she works with what today already shows — the protein you’re at by noon, what a walk did to your budget — so she has something to say much sooner.
The week card now leads with what you’ve actually eaten, next to what your plan asked for and what your body burned — with the gap to each one called out. Underneath, a plain-English read of what those days could add up to, and why the scale may not agree yet.
Very occasionally something goes wrong on our side and Sophia doesn't reply. Until now that still came off your message count, so a hiccup cost you twice — once for the message that failed, and again for sending it a second time. It doesn't any more: if she doesn't answer, your count goes straight back, and she tells you so.
When Sophia suggests something — a weigh-in before the weekend, a few more logged days, more protein across the day — it now appears on its own card under her reply, with the timeframe, so it doesn't get lost in the middle of a paragraph. She remembers it, checks how it went, and tells you. If it didn't happen, she asks what got in the way instead of letting it quietly drop.
When you logged something, her answer used to break into two or three separate messages, each one repeating her picture and the time. Now the reply, its card and her note come through together, the way one person talking actually looks. Her handwritten notes are darker too — they were far too pale to read comfortably.
Ask her how the day is going and she could call carbs full when half were still spare, or treat the last few grams of protein as a squeeze. She now reads each on its own: protein is a floor, so nearly there is nearly done and going over is fine, while carbs and fat stay guides. When calories are left she says which macro the room is in — after a hard session, usually carbs.
Reaching your goal used to mean the same deficit forever. metrIQ now offers a choice: hold, or aim at something new. Holding is judged against a band around your trend, not one number, and Progress shows where you sit in it. Drift and a quiet scale both get a message now, and a new goal keeps your history, streaks and milestones.
If you track in pounds, everything now says so — what Sophia tells you in chat, the notes she sends, your milestones, every screen. And if you move somewhere new, metrIQ notices and offers to shift your days with you instead of quietly closing them on the old clock.
Tap the microphone in the chat and just say what you ate — the words appear as you speak, ready to fix before you send. Handy when your hands are full. Head to your profile to tell metrIQ which language you'll speak, so it listens for that one instead of guessing — leave it be and it'll keep guessing, same as always.
There's a new Menu tab. Pick a day, say whether you're training, choose which meals you want, and you get a day of food built around your targets — with amounts, macros and how to make each one. Don't fancy something? Say so in your own words and it gets replaced. When you eat one, it's one tap into your diary.
Holding Sophia's floating bubble to move her did nothing on many Android phones — the ring filled, the phone buzzed, and she snapped straight back to where she started. She moves properly now. She also rests above the tabs rather than on top of them, so she can never sit over your navigation.
When your weight was holding steady, Sophia could read tiny scale wobbles as a real trend and tell you that you were losing — or gaining. She now calls a stall a stall, and only claims a direction when your weigh-ins actually show one.
When you logged a meal or a workout, the short observation Sophia adds underneath sometimes never arrived — she was given barely a moment to think of it, and quietly gave up when she ran out. She has room to finish now, so the note turns up when there's one worth making.
She only ever knew your clock, so her food suggestions could send you looking for something your supermarket has never stocked. Now you tell her which country you're in — during setup, or any time from your profile — and her ideas come from shelves you can actually reach.
Profile's time zone list only covered 26 cities, so if yours wasn't one of them you couldn't see it or save a change — you were just stuck. Every zone in the world is offered now, and it's searchable, so you can find yours and move on.
The calorie and macro maths metrIQ runs on was worked out on adults, and it has no honest answer for a body that is still growing — but setting up an account accepted a date of birth as young as 13, and our terms said 18 in one sentence and something else in the next. metrIQ is now 18 and over, the sign-up asks accordingly, and the terms say one thing.
Some plans set a daily calorie target below what your body burns at rest, and a protein target so large it took up nearly half the day's food — hardest on the people with the most to lose. Your target now never falls below a sensible share of your own resting burn, protein is held to a share you can build a plate around, and metrIQ says plainly when a plan sits at the ambitious end.
Your pantry is now My Foods, and it holds more than single items. Save a sandwich or a bowl once, built from the foods you've already saved, and log the whole thing in one line. Change the bread and every meal using it follows — nothing you've already logged moves. You don't need to know the numbers either: Sophia can fill them in and you correct anything that looks off.
If her first message to you was a milestone or a nudge rather than a weekly check-in, she never explained that she checks in at all — or offered you the choice of when. Now she introduces herself whatever the reason she's writing.
Email used to be skipped entirely if you'd opened the app recently, which meant her messages could sit unseen with nothing to tell you they'd arrived. You can now pick: always, only when a notification didn't reach your phone, or never.
She could tell you you were down 1.6 kg one day and 1.0 kg the next, because she was reading a rolling seven-day figure without saying so. She now names the week she means, and tells you the total since your plan started alongside it.
Turning on notifications quietly failed for everyone, so Sophia's messages only ever waited for you in the app. It works now — and if it can't be switched on, it tells you why instead of shrugging.
On a laptop or tablet, reading Sophia in the panel on the right never cleared her unread dot — it just stayed lit. Reading her messages now marks them read wherever you are.
Finishing 30 kcal over turned the day red — the same red as finishing 800 over. A day now stays green when it lands near its target, turns amber when it drifts, and goes red only once it has genuinely gone the other way. Gain and maintenance plans are judged in their own direction too, so eating far under target no longer counts as a win.
A calorie bar filling up in warning red made an ordinary lunchtime look like a problem, and a half-full green protein bar congratulated you for being 60g short. Both bars are now quiet while they fill — they show how far along you are, nothing more — and the protein bar turns green only once you have actually reached the goal.
The kilos are what the week was for, so they now carry the headline and the calorie balance sits quietly beside them. The line underneath says plainly where the figure comes from: the weight your eating and burning point to, not a reading off the scale.
Just after logging a meal she could tell you how many calories were left as though the meal had not happened, disagreeing with the card right below her. She now leaves that figure to the card, which has always had it right.
The card used to show seven bars of calories eaten, which answers a question nobody asks. It now leads with how the days you’ve finished compare with what your body burned, sets that against what your plan expected, and explains the gap in one plain sentence. Today waits until it closes to join that figure, and gets a line of its own until then — so a logged breakfast never reads as a head start.
Wanting to ease off, switch to maintenance, hold a calorie number of your own or take a week off used to mean leaving the conversation — or wasn't possible at all. Now you just say so, and she works out the trade-off and shows it as a card: exactly what moves, across pace, daily calories and your finish date. Nothing changes until you accept it.
The textbook estimate of what your body burns was never quite yours. Once enough logged days and weigh-ins are behind you, metrIQ measures your real burn instead and moves your daily target to match, telling you in the chat when it does. From there you can open the working — the old estimate, what's been measured, and the days it rests on — or put that change straight back.
Switching tabs used to sit blank for a beat and then drop the whole screen in at once. Every screen now shows its own shape immediately, and nothing jumps when your real numbers arrive.
The pace slider promised you'd watch the numbers move, and then didn't — the faster settings all landed on the same daily target. Pace is now a share of the deficit your body can safely give, so all five settings are genuinely different, and the fastest one is your own safe maximum rather than a number picked for an average person.
Until now she only ever replied, which meant the weeks you most needed a coach were the weeks you heard nothing. She now notices ten things worth saying something about — your weekly check-in, a stall, a hard week after a good run, a milestone, a stretch of silence — and starts the conversation herself. One message a day at most, never during your night.
On a keyboard, Enter sends and Shift+Enter starts a new line — the way every other chat app works. On a phone it's the other way round, so Enter still gives you a line break.
With metrIQ installed on Android, the navigation was drawing underneath the system gesture bar, so the tabs looked cut off and couldn't be tapped. Every pinned part of the app now keeps out of the phone's way.
Asking Sophia for two of something from your pantry logged one, because a saved food had no way to carry an amount — and correcting her reported success while changing nothing. Amounts are now required on every pantry item, the saved serving is shown alongside it, and if a correction doesn't land she tells you instead of saying it's fixed.
The first public release. metrIQ is a coach rather than a tracker: you tell Sophia what you ate and how you trained, in your own words, and she keeps the numbers — calories, protein, your weight trend — and tells you what to do next. Everything above arrived after that day.