Meal Prep for People Who Hate Meal Prep (Me, a Little)

Meal prep doesn't have to mean cooking seven identical containers on Sunday and eating sad chicken all week. Coach Corey Nelson admits he kind of hates meal prep too — and shares the low-effort tricks that actually stick. No marathon sessions, no boring meals, no guilt.

If the phrase "meal prep" makes you want to throw your phone across the room, you're not alone. I've spent years as a fitness coach, and I still find most meal prep advice exhausting. The photos of seven identical Tupperware containers lined up like soldiers, the grocery lists that read like a spreadsheet, the Sunday afternoons lost to chopping vegetables — none of that has ever worked for me. So I'm going to say something that shouldn't be controversial: meal prep for people who hate meal prep is not only possible, it's the only kind worth doing. And I say that as someone who still kind of hates it.

I'm Corey Nelson, and I live in Omaha, Nebraska with my wife Beth and our two kids. Like most busy adults, I want to eat well without spending my whole weekend in the kitchen. Over 12 years of coaching everyday people, I've learned that the meal prep advice that actually sticks is not the Pinterest version. It's smaller, messier, and a little lazy. And that's exactly why it works. This post is my honest answer to the question: how do you prep food without turning your life into a cooking show you never signed up for?

Why Traditional Meal Prep Fails for Most People

The standard meal prep script goes like this: on Sunday, you cook a pile of chicken, rice, and broccoli. You divide it into matching containers. You eat the same thing Monday through Friday. By Wednesday, you're sick of it. By Thursday, you order takeout out of spite. By next Sunday, you never want to see a Tupperware again.

That version fails because it's too rigid and too boring. It asks you to become a different person — a person who enjoys eating the same meal five days in a row and doesn't mind spending three hours in the kitchen. Most of us aren't that person. We want variety, we want flavor, and we want our weekends back. When meal prep demands we give all that up, we quit. Then we feel guilty, like we failed at something. But the truth is, the method failed us, not the other way around.

Another problem is that traditional meal prep treats food as fuel, not as pleasure. I've watched clients force themselves to eat bland chicken and rice because they thought that was "clean eating." They'd last a week, maybe two, before cracking and eating a whole pizza in one sitting. That's not a lack of discipline. That's a natural reaction to depriving yourself of joy. Meal prep only works if the food is something you actually want to eat.

The Lazy Meal Prep Method

Here's what I do instead. It's not a system, really. It's a handful of small habits that make cooking during the week easier without turning Sunday into a second job. The goal is to reduce friction, not to become a chef.

Step 1: Prep Ingredients, Not Meals

This is the single biggest shift. Instead of cooking entire meals, I prep ingredients. That means washing and chopping vegetables, cooking a batch of rice or quinoa, browning a pound of ground beef, or roasting a tray of whatever vegetables look good. Then during the week, I mix and match these components into different meals.

For example, if I have cooked rice, roasted broccoli, and shredded chicken in the fridge, I can throw together a quick stir-fry on Monday, a chicken-and-rice bowl on Tuesday, and a fried rice situation on Wednesday. The prep work is done, but the meals don't feel repetitive because I'm combining them differently and adding different sauces or seasonings.

This approach takes maybe 45 minutes on a Sunday, and it doesn't require any special containers or planning skills. You're just doing a little advance work so that cooking on Tuesday night takes 15 minutes instead of 45.

Step 2: Use the "One Big Batch" Rule

If there's one thing I actually do cook ahead, it's a big batch of something versatile. A pot of chili, a tray of roasted vegetables, a batch of taco meat, a pot of lentil soup. Something that can be eaten as-is or repurposed into other meals.

Chili becomes chili, then chili over a baked potato, then chili mixed with rice and cheese. Roasted vegetables become a side, then a salad topping, then a frittata filling. Taco meat becomes tacos, then a burrito bowl, then a filling for stuffed peppers. One big batch, three or four different dinners. That's the kind of meal prep I can get behind.

Step 3: Buy the Shortcuts Without Shame

I used to feel guilty about buying pre-chopped vegetables, rotisserie chickens, frozen rice, and bagged salad kits. Like I was cheating somehow. I've since realized that shortcuts are not cheating; they're survival. A rotisserie chicken from the grocery store is already cooked, seasoned, and ready to shred. That's not a failure. That's a gift.

Frozen vegetables are just as nutritious as fresh, and they don't go bad in the crisper drawer. Microwave rice is ready in 90 seconds. Bagged salad kits come with dressing and toppings included. If using these shortcuts means you actually eat at home instead of ordering takeout, then they're not just acceptable — they're smart.

I've told this to dozens of clients who were stuck in the "everything from scratch" mindset. One of them, a dad named Tom, told me he used to spend two hours meal prepping every Sunday and hated every minute of it. When we switched him to rotisserie chicken, frozen veggies, and microwave rice, he cut his prep time to 20 minutes and started actually enjoying his weeknight dinners. His kids didn't know the difference. His sanity did.

A grocery store rotisserie chicken in its container sits next to a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and a microwavable rice pouch on a kitchen counter, showing simple meal prep shortcuts.

What a Week of Lazy Meal Prep Looks Like

Let me paint you a picture. On Sunday afternoon, while the kids are napping or watching a show, I spend 45 minutes in the kitchen. I cook a big pot of rice, roast a tray of whatever vegetables are in the fridge, brown a pound of ground turkey with taco seasoning, and shred a rotisserie chicken. I put everything in separate containers in the fridge. That's the whole prep.

Monday: Taco bowls — ground turkey, rice, roasted vegetables, salsa, cheese.
Tuesday: Chicken stir-fry — shredded chicken, rice, frozen stir-fry vegetables, soy sauce.
Wednesday: Taco salad — ground turkey over salad greens with whatever vegetables are left.
Thursday: Fried rice — rice, leftover chicken, eggs, frozen peas, soy sauce.
Friday: Takeout or leftovers, because nobody's perfect.

Five dinners, one afternoon of light work, and no sad Tupperware lineups. Each meal tastes different because the combinations and sauces change. That's meal prep for people who hate meal prep. It's flexible, forgiving, and it doesn't make you hate your food by Thursday.

What to Do When You Really, Truly Don't Want to Prep

Some weeks, even the lazy version feels like too much. That's okay. I've had plenty of weeks where Sunday rolls around and I can't be bothered to chop a single vegetable. On those weeks, I lower the bar.

Here's the emergency plan: keep a few "assembly only" meals on hand. A loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of apples, a carton of eggs, a block of cheese, a can of tuna, a bag of salad. When you have no time and no energy, you can throw together a peanut butter sandwich and an apple, or scramble some eggs and eat them with toast, or make a tuna salad sandwich with a side of bagged greens. That's still a meal. It's still better than a drive-thru. And it requires zero prep.

The point is to have a backup that doesn't rely on willpower. If you know you have eggs and bread in the house, you're less likely to order a pizza out of desperation. You're not trying to be perfect; you're just trying to make the decent choice a little easier than the expensive one.

Why I Still Kind of Hate Meal Prep — and Why That's Okay

I'm never going to be the guy who posts photos of his color-coded meal prep containers. I'm never going to spend my Sunday afternoon cooking for four hours. I'm probably never going to love chopping vegetables. But I have learned to stop expecting myself to become someone I'm not.

That's the real secret to meal prep for people who hate meal prep: you don't have to love it. You just have to find a version that's tolerable enough to repeat. For me, that's ingredient prep, big batches, and unapologetic shortcuts. For you, it might be something else. The key is to stop trying to copy the influencer version and start asking what would make your week a little easier.

A few mismatched glass and plastic containers hold different food components on a kitchen counter, while a child's hand reaches for a container of roasted vegetables, showing real family meal prep.

Show Up. Eat a Little. Let the Week Happen.

Food is supposed to support your life, not run it. If meal prep feels like a punishment, you're doing a version that doesn't fit you. So shrink it. Prep ingredients instead of meals. Buy the rotisserie chicken. Use the frozen vegetables. Keep a backup loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. And when you eat the same thing three days in a row, don't call it failure. Call it Tuesday.

The plate is already hard enough to keep balanced in a busy week. Don't make meal prep another thing to feel guilty about. Just do a little, let it be imperfect, and move on. That's the lazy meal prep way — and it's the only way that's ever worked for me.