The Hidden Genius of a Simple Workout: What Notre Dame’s Strength Coach Taught Me About Life
Let me start by saying this: I’ve never been an athlete. My glory days of junior varsity soccer are long behind me, and the closest I get to a gym these days is walking past one. So when I found myself face-to-face with Loren Landow, Notre Dame’s director of football performance, I knew I was in for a humbling experience. What I didn’t expect was how much a single workout would teach me about strength, discipline, and the art of paying attention to the details others overlook.
The Warm-Up That’s Anything But
One thing that immediately stands out is how Landow uses the warm-up as a diagnostic tool. Most of us think of warm-ups as a mindless prelude to the real workout—a few stretches, maybe some light jogging. But for Landow, it’s a masterclass in observation. Personally, I think this is where his genius lies. While players are going through the motions, he’s quietly assessing their mobility, stability, and weaknesses.
What many people don’t realize is that this warm-up isn’t just about getting the body ready; it’s about building trust. Former Notre Dame linebacker Jack Kiser, now with the Jacksonville Jaguars, still swears by it. He told me, ‘It’s a cue for your body that it’s ready to go.’ But here’s the kicker: Landow isn’t just preparing athletes for the workout—he’s preparing them for life. The discipline of focusing on every movement translates into focus on the field, in the classroom, and beyond.
If you take a step back and think about it, this approach is a metaphor for how we should approach challenges. Too often, we rush into things without laying the groundwork. Landow’s warm-up is a reminder that the foundation matters—and that someone is always watching, even when you think no one is.
Strength Isn’t Just About Lifting Heavy Things
Here’s where my workout with Landow got really interesting. We didn’t touch a single barbell. Instead, he had me doing push-ups with a three-second descent, isometric holds that made my quads scream, and towel exercises that left my upper back feeling like it had been set on fire. What this really suggests is that strength isn’t just about how much weight you can lift—it’s about control, endurance, and durability.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Landow’s focus on tendons. Most strength programs ignore them, but Landow trains them with the same precision as muscles. This raises a deeper question: Why do we obsess over visible strength while neglecting the invisible structures that keep us together? It’s a lesson that applies far beyond the gym. In life, we often prioritize what’s flashy—the big achievements, the public wins—while ignoring the small, consistent efforts that build resilience.
From my perspective, this is where Landow’s program shines. It’s not about making players invincible; it’s about making them durable. Football is a brutal sport, and injuries are inevitable. But by focusing on the tendons, Landow ensures his athletes can withstand the grind of a 16-game season. It’s a philosophy we could all benefit from: build the unseen strengths, and the visible ones will follow.
Competition in the Most Unexpected Places
One of the most surprising moments of my workout came when Landow turned a simple grip exercise into a competition. ‘Last man hanging wins,’ he said, as if we were in the middle of a playoff game instead of a gym. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Landow injects competition into even the most mundane exercises. It’s not just about physical strength—it’s about mental toughness and the will to keep going when every fiber of your being wants to quit.
This approach reminds me of something I’ve observed in high-performing teams, whether in sports or business. The best leaders don’t just focus on the big wins; they create small, daily competitions that keep everyone engaged. Landow’s players aren’t just training their bodies; they’re training their minds to push past limits.
Personally, I think this is the secret sauce of his program. It’s not the exercises themselves that are revolutionary—it’s the mindset he instills. When Boubacar Traore sheds a blocker or Jordan Faison high-points a ball, it’s not just physical ability at play. It’s the mental toughness they’ve built through these seemingly insignificant drills.
The Bigger Picture: What Landow’s Workout Taught Me About Life
If there’s one takeaway from my time with Landow, it’s this: the details matter. Whether it’s a warm-up, a tendon exercise, or a grip competition, everything has a purpose. In a world that glorifies shortcuts and instant results, Landow’s approach is a refreshing reminder that true strength—physical or otherwise—is built over time, with intention and consistency.
What this really suggests is that we’ve been looking at strength all wrong. It’s not about how much you can lift or how fast you can run. It’s about how well you can endure, adapt, and keep going when the going gets tough. Landow’s program isn’t just about building athletes; it’s about building people who can handle whatever life throws at them.
As I left the Guglielmino Athletics Complex, sore and humbled, I couldn’t help but think about how much of Landow’s philosophy applies to my own life. Maybe I’ll never bench-press 200 pounds or run a 4.4 40-yard dash, but I can focus on the details, build my unseen strengths, and embrace the small competitions that make me better every day.
And the next time I see a towel? I’ll remember it’s not just for sweat—it’s a tool for transformation.
