The Evolution of My Coaching Philosophy: Lessons from Experience

Introduction

In the world of strength and conditioning, everyone starts somewhere. For me, my journey as an athlete and coach has been marked by countless lessons, realizations, and mistakes along the way. When I first began, I thought the experience I had with my own training would be all I needed to guide others. But coaching has shown me how complex and individualized training truly is. My coaching philosophy didn’t emerge overnight; it’s a product of years of learning, adapting, and challenging my own beliefs. In this post, I want to share seven key principles that have shaped my approach to coaching and programming, along with the valuable lessons I’ve learned in each area.

My Experience Isn’t the Template for Everyone

When I started coaching, I assumed that my personal experiences and what worked for me would be universal. But over time, I realized that my own proportions, strengths, weaknesses, and unique training background are just one of countless potential paths. Gleaning from my own experience is essential, but I must constantly remind myself of its limitations.

Not everyone moves, learns, or responds to cues the way I do. The tricks that worked for me to overcome obstacles aren’t necessarily what will work for others. This realization has made me a better listener and helped me practice empathy in coaching. Now, I pay close attention to stories from other athletes and coaches, allowing me to develop creative, individualized solutions. Expanding my perspective in this way has allowed me to help athletes with a wide variety of backgrounds and goals.

Question Everything: Avoid Dogma by Asking “Why?”

The fitness industry is full of long-standing beliefs and conventional wisdom that often get repeated without much scrutiny. As a coach, I’ve learned that taking things at face value simply isn’t enough. If you want to truly help athletes, you need to challenge dogmatic ideas and ask "why" at every turn.

One concept that helps illustrate this need for critical thinking is the Pareto Principle, also known as the 80/20 rule. This principle suggests that roughly 80% of outcomes come from 20% of causes. In fitness, that means that conventional wisdom is probably going to be right about 80% of the time. However, the remaining 20% represents scenarios where the standard approach doesn’t apply, and sifting through the remaining 80% of the possible answers is where a coach’s skill and adaptability are truly tested.

For example, let’s say you’re coaching a group of 10 athletes, and you apply a commonly accepted method for strength training or injury rehab. Statistically speaking, there’s a good chance that this approach will work well for about 8 of them. But for the remaining 2, the standard advice may actually be ineffective—or worse, it could be counterproductive. If you only follow conventional wisdom without understanding the "why" behind it, you risk missing these exceptions and failing to serve each athlete individually.

By digging deeper and understanding the reasoning behind popular principles, you can identify when they don’t apply and create alternative strategies. This way, you’re not just offering cookie-cutter solutions; you’re tailoring your approach to each athlete’s unique needs, which is where real value in coaching lies.

Embrace Mistakes, but Trust What You Know

I’ve found that the trust between coach and athlete isn’t built by always being right; it’s built on honesty and humility. A coach gains credibility by admitting when they’re wrong or when they don’t know something. Over the years, I’ve learned that not knowing something doesn’t make me less competent—it makes me human.

I’ve dedicated countless hours to reading, learning, and honing my craft. I’ve developed confidence in what I know, which allows me to make quick decisions and provide value in the moment. But that confidence is balanced by an openness to being proven wrong. This combination of humility and self-assurance has made me a better coach, allowing me to adapt and grow alongside my athletes.

Different Personalities Require Different Approaches

I’m naturally pretty laid-back, and I don’t stress much when things go wrong. I trust that I can adapt as needed, whether it’s in training or competition. But over time, I’ve realized that not every athlete shares this mindset. Some people find comfort in a rigid plan, while others need a more flexible approach.

For example, I might be comfortable going into a strongman competition without access to specific implements beforehand, trusting in my ability to adapt. But for other athletes, not practicing with the exact equipment would cause a lot of stress. Similarly, while I’m fine with moving things around in my training schedule, other people rely on their training plan to maintain a sense of structure. Recognizing and respecting these personality differences allows me to coach in a way that reduces anxiety and improves results.

Motor Patterns Are More Important Than Muscle Size

When I first started training, I believed that strength came down to building bigger muscles. I thought if you wanted a bigger bench, you needed bigger triceps, and if you wanted a stronger deadlift, you needed bigger hamstrings. But over the years, I’ve learned that it’s rarely that simple.

True strength isn’t just about muscle size—it’s about motor patterns. The way the body coordinates itself to perform a movement is what truly determines performance. I’ve found that many strength issues don’t stem from weak muscles, but from poor motor patterns. You can fix weak muscles by improving the motor pattern, but you can’t fix a poor motor pattern just by adding muscle. Understanding this has transformed my approach to coaching, focusing more on movement quality and technique.

I’m No Longer “Married” to Any Single Program

I started out, like many people, following popular programs like Jim Wendler’s 5/3/1, Starting Strength, and the Cube Method. But over time, I began to explore the ideas of the greats—Louie Simmons, Mike Tuchscherer, and others who pushed beyond conventional wisdom. Eventually, I discovered that the lines between programs are more flexible than they seem.

Effective training is about finding the optimal balance of variables—frequency, volume, intensity, and recovery—for each individual. Being “married” to a single program limits your ability to adapt and find that theoretical optimal for each athlete. I don’t consider myself a 5/3/1 guy, a conjugate guy, or any other label. Every tool is on the table when I write a program, and I do what I believe will get each athlete closest to their ideal results.

The Four Stages of Competence

When I first started training on my own, I thought I knew it all. Looking back, I was in what’s known as Unconscious Incompetence—I didn’t know what I didn’t know. As I read my first few books, I progressed to Conscious Incompetence, where I knew a bit but didn’t realize how much I was still missing.

As I began coaching, I studied more deeply and realized just how vast the field of strength training really is, entering Conscious Competence. I knew enough to know how little I actually understood. Now, when I see experts like the late Louie Simmons or Joe Kenn, I see the level of Unconscious Competence they’ve achieved. They’ve internalized their knowledge so completely that it flows naturally. Watching them motivates me to keep learning and to strive for that same effortless expertise someday.

Conclusion: The Journey of a Coach Never Ends

Coaching is a constant journey of learning, adapting, and refining. Every lesson I’ve shared here has come from years of trial and error, of being open to new ideas, and of listening to the unique needs of each athlete I work with. I’m not done learning—I never will be. My experience is just a single piece in the larger puzzle of strength and conditioning, and I look forward to uncovering more.

In the end, the role of a coach is not to have all the answers, but to be a guide who’s willing to learn, adapt, and walk alongside athletes on their own journeys. Thank you for joining me on this reflection. I hope it encourages you to keep pushing, keep questioning, and keep growing in your own path, whether as a coach, athlete, or both.