Quitting: The Best Career Decision I Ever Made
The Strength Coach Stigma
Strength and Conditioning has long had the stigma of working long hours, taking no days off and embracing “the grind” mentality. It was easy at a young age to live off of energy drinks, PB +Js, and sleepless nights. I never thought twice about it because I knew this was the territory, this is considered normal in the field.
As I moved from position to position, I wore it as a badge of honor to work as long and as hard as possible, putting everything I had into the job. Strength coaches are known for this lifestyle, so I thought I better embrace it if I was going to be a better coach.
When the dream job calls, you answer.
In 2018, I was offered my “dream job” at Towson University. The move back to the northeast was an exciting time for me from a strength and conditioning standpoint. Being the head strength coach for a baseball program was a dream I held for my entire career. I was finally living it out.
In my first 6 months at Towson, I did not take a single day or half day off. My schedule was full all day, every day. I carved out no time for myself, my wife, or anyone else outside of work. It wasn’t just the hours that weighed on me, but the constant feeling of thinking that I had to do everything and be everything for the athletes and my coworkers.
Where did the dream go?
Then summer came around and admittedly I was in a rough spot. The job had taken over my life. Sure, strength and conditioning is demanding, but I wasn’t doing a thing to separate my life from my job. Any free time I had, I filled it with work.
I had trouble sleeping at nights because my mind was racing, my anxiety levels ruled over me, and as a culmination of everything, my wife and I almost ended our marriage. I was neglecting anyone that tried to enter my life. It was pretty clear I had a choice to make -- my life or the job that I let consume my life.
Calling Myself a Quitter
I never thought I would quit a job. It was so counterintuitive to all the work I did to get here. The selfish side of me didn’t want to do it, but I knew it was this or divorce papers.
The hardest part was knowing that I had worked so hard for many years to finally pursue this career, and now I was choosing to step away. I was leaving behind coaches that felt more like brothers, a salary that provided for my family, and moving back to Clemson meant we were heading in the opposite direction of our families. On paper this didn’t make sense.
“Once you leave, you’ll never get back”
My biggest fear was one that was spoken to me by multiple coaches, “Once you leave, you’ll never get back in.” I had to swallow the fear that I would never be able to get a college strength and conditioning job again.
Bittersweet goodbyes to the Towson Baseball staff & Towson Strength staff. These guys are all brothers to me.
Making Moves & Moving Forward
Moving back to Clemson was emotional on many fronts. There was so much fear due to the unknown as to what the next year would look like for me work-wise. I felt a lot of shame telling people that I quit a job and that I didn’t know my next steps. My wife immediately went back to work at her office in Clemson. For the first time I was just there, alone, with an empty schedule.
I threw myself a pity party every day for the first few weeks. I thought I lost who I was because my title wasn’t “Assistant Strength and Conditioning Coach'' anymore. I didn’t have a logo or paycheck to attach myself to.
After my pity party, I dug in.
Digging In
I was given the opportunity to volunteer with my former boss and staff at Clemson University as well as with a new staff at Anderson University. The freedom of volunteering gave me valuable time to dive in and work specifically with the baseball programs.
I was able to make ends meet by being contracted to train a team, developing a youth baseball strength and conditioning program, and working at an event rental company. Working as a volunteer coach and setting up event tents really challenged me and changed me for the better. I was humbled and I needed it.
Parts of our Clemson family that welcomed us back during this season.
Weathering the Storm
Taking a step back helped me to better view what I wanted for my future job and career. I learned that the pressure I felt to be a strength coach 24/7 was all a lie. I am responsible for taking ownership of how I schedule my time and how I prioritize people in my life.
What happens when no logos are next to your name?
I have to be able to separate my life and who I am from my role as a strength coach. I had to get rid of the mindset that I have to be everything for athletes and coaches, because that is completely untrue.
Stepping down also made me very aware of how people were viewing me and my decisions. It was very evident that a lot of people, even some close to me, only valued my opinion if I had a certain logo or title next to my name. At the national S+C conference that year, many coaches brushed me off because I didn’t have a logo to wear or they heard I was in a volunteer role.
On the flip side, there were family, friends, and fellow coaches that were with me through the highs and lows. They truly helped to carry me and my wife through that year.
It showed me how to weather the storm with those closest to you. Sometimes what matters most is just knowing someone is there for you no matter your circumstance, no matter your job title.
Waiting Season
I knew my passion and goal was to continue to be a strength coach and to get back in collegiate coaching. As the strength coach job season began, I applied to pretty much every job out there. I had dozens of phone interviews, video calls, and on-campus interviews. Each one was either a position that I truly didn’t have a passion for or I would get a call that the school moved in another direction.
Narrow the Scope
I knew my passion was in collegiate strength and conditioning and I wanted to focus on baseball jobs. A lot of people thought it was naïve to have a narrow scope especially since I “needed” a job, but God told me over and over to wait on His timing.
God never wavered from His promise to us that he would provide and look out for us. When it felt like all doors were closed and the job season was over, God opened the door at Illinois.
Things fell into place and He provided us with the exact opportunity that me and my wife were looking for -- a baseball strength and conditioning job with bosses and coaches that value the importance of family and personal well-being.
Luke hitting up pregame BP & stretch
Normalizing the Conversation
I wrote this to normalize strength coaches talking about their personal well-being. I want to see more strength coaches prioritizing their families alongside their passion for work.
To be clear, I am not saying to quit when things get tough or to leave a job that is demanding. I want to say that loud and clear. I understand leaving a job isn’t feasible for everyone. It was a sacrifice for my family and yours might look different.
You can hold a boundary for yourself. You can reassess and reevaluate your schedule within your parameters. Hard conversations can still be productive conversations.
Accountable men are not “soft”
We can normalize being passionate about our profession and teams as well as our own personal lives. It’s not soft, it’s holding ourselves accountable to being better men, husbands, and fathers.
Our lives are much more than what we do and who we work for. We need to let go of our egos and realize that our impact is not measured by how many hours we work. If you want to know the impact of your work, have honest conversations with your family, friends, coworkers, and athletes. Be open to having those conversations often.
Is your impact at work taking away from your impact at home and to those closest to you? That’s not a legacy I want to leave behind, and I doubt it’s a life you want to live either.
As strength coaches and as men, we are meant for so much more than comparing hours clocked. Our field grows when we grow together.
Luke and Al, my rocks.