Introduction

When I got into college strength and conditioning, I already knew it wasn’t going to be glamorous. No big paychecks, no fancy lifestyle, and definitely no shortcuts. I had realistic expectations from the start. But most aspiring coaches don’t truly know what they’re getting into — or what it actually takes to last in this profession. The hours are long, the pay is low, and you’re constantly figuring out how to make things work in weight rooms that weren’t built for efficiency. Don’t get me wrong — I love what I do, but if you want the truth about this profession, here it is.

1. Certifications Are the Gatekeeper

If you want to coach NCAA teams in the college weight room, you need your NSCA-CSCS. Period. No way around it. Without it, you’re not even in the conversation. At the Division I level, it’s a non-negotiable requirement, and at smaller schools, while there may be exceptions, the tide is shifting toward expecting it everywhere. It doesn’t matter if you were an All-American athlete or have years of private coaching under your belt — if you don’t have the letters CSCS behind your name, your résumé often won’t make it past the first glance.

At smaller schools — NAIA or JUCO — there are still cases where you can land a role without a CSCS, especially if you’ve got playing experience or strong connections. But the truth is, that window is closing fast. More and more athletic departments want to say their staff is certified, even if it’s not strictly required. So while you might sneak in without it, the CSCS is quickly becoming the standard everywhere.

The exam itself weeds people out. It isn’t cheap, the prep takes months, and you can’t just “wing it” because the scope is too broad. I’ve watched interns with all the passion in the world fail to take the next step because they couldn’t commit to this one requirement. And here’s the truth: in the private sector, you might be able to get by without it. But if college athletics is your goal, the CSCS is the price of admission.

2. The Ladder Is Real

The career path in college strength and conditioning is well-defined: Intern → GA → Part-Time → Full-Time. There’s no skipping steps unless you know someone powerful or get very lucky. For most, that means grinding through each rung, often for years, before finally landing what looks like “the job.” Even then, you quickly realize that “the job” doesn’t come with the security or compensation you thought it would.

Internships are almost always unpaid or barely pay a stipend. Graduate assistantships, which require you to be enrolled in a master’s program, often pay very little — sometimes under $10k for the year, depending on the school. That’s nowhere near enough to live on comfortably in most cities. Part-time gigs aren’t much better and still leave you cobbling together income. The full-time job, which you’ve been chasing for years, might come with benefits, but the pay is often still below what’s livable compared to the hours worked.

Most coaches I know have had to live well below their means, work side jobs, or lean on family support just to survive those early years. You do it because you love coaching, but the reality is that “experience” doesn’t pay rent. Many talented coaches never make it past the GA stage simply because they can’t afford to. That’s the unspoken filter in this profession — it’s not just about who’s best at coaching, but who can financially endure the grind long enough to stick around.

3. Networking Beats Knowledge

Here’s a hard pill to swallow: who you know often matters more than what you know. I’ve seen coaches with average programming knowledge land jobs because their mentor picked up the phone for them, while sharper, more qualified candidates were overlooked because nobody could vouch for them. Hiring in this field is rarely about résumés and cover letters — it’s about trust.

Athletic directors and head coaches don’t have time to sift through piles of applications. They rely on recommendations. They’ll call someone they trust and ask, “Who do you got?” If your name doesn’t come up in those conversations, you may as well not exist. That’s why networking isn’t optional — it’s essential. Building those relationships can matter more for your career than the perfect program design.

That doesn’t mean knowledge doesn’t matter — it absolutely does, especially once you’re in the door. But if you never get that chance, your knowledge is irrelevant. Coaches who understand this invest as much effort into relationships as they do into refining their craft. That might mean staying after hours to connect with a sport coach, volunteering at clinics, or simply being someone others enjoy working with. In this profession, your reputation and relationships are your currency.

4. The Pay is Brutal

At smaller schools, salaries are painfully low. Full-time strength coaches often make between $30,000 and $40,000 a year, and that’s with a master’s degree and years of experience. Compare that to other professions requiring similar education, and it’s a massive gap. Worse, those salaries come with 60+ hour workweeks. You’re essentially signing up for long hours at low pay, with limited upward mobility unless you break into the Division I level — and even there, pay is often modest compared to workload.

Because of that reality, most coaches find ways to supplement income. Some train private clients in the evenings, others run camps, and plenty hustle side gigs just to keep the lights on. I’ve done it myself. It’s not that coaches don’t deserve better pay — it’s that the structure of college athletics often doesn’t prioritize strength and conditioning enough to allocate more resources. Until that changes, coaches have to adapt.

The hardest part isn’t just the low pay — it’s the mismatch between what the job requires and what it compensates. You’re expected to be educated, certified, experienced, and highly committed, yet the financial return doesn’t reflect that investment. For many, that becomes a breaking point. Passion can carry you for a while, but bills eventually come due. The sad reality is that the profession loses a lot of good coaches not because they lacked skill, but because they couldn’t afford to stay.

Image: Newman University Wrestling Team in the Weight Room Before a Training Session

5. Unrealistic Expectations & Long Hours

Smaller schools don’t mean less work — sometimes they mean more. Instead of being assigned one or two teams, you might be programming and coaching for a dozen. Each team has different needs, different schedules, and different personalities to manage. That means you’re juggling multiple demands from sunrise to sunset, often with little administrative support.

A “typical” day might start before dawn. If athletes are in the weight room at 6:00 a.m., you’re there earlier setting up. Morning sessions roll straight into mid-morning groups, then you squeeze in admin work, programming, or meetings during the late morning hours. Afternoons bring more team lifts, and evenings are often spent attending games to support teams or catching up on administrative tasks that couldn’t get done earlier in the day. By the time the last athlete leaves, it’s common for the clock to show 7:00 or 8:00 p.m. That’s a 12–14 hour day — not once in a while, but regularly.

This grind takes a toll. Your body is run down from being on your feet all day, your personal relationships strain under the schedule, and even your own training suffers because you’re too drained to prioritize it. Coffee and energy drinks become survival tools. You learn to live in the small cracks of time between sessions. It’s not sustainable forever, and that’s why burnout is so prevalent. But for as long as you’re in it, those long days are the norm, not the exception.

6. Limited Job Security

At the Division I level, job security is almost nonexistent. Your role is usually tied directly to the head coach or athletic director, meaning that when leadership changes, your position is often on the chopping block. It doesn’t matter if your athletes got stronger, faster, or healthier — if the new head coach wants their own people, you’re gone.

At smaller schools, there can be slightly more stability, but it’s still fragile. Budget cuts, administrative changes, or even a shift in priorities can wipe out your role overnight. It’s not uncommon for coaches to uproot their families for a position only to be let go less than a year later. That uncertainty hangs over you constantly.

The harsh truth is that if job security is a top priority for you, this isn’t the field to pursue. Coaches who last understand that instability comes with the territory. They accept the risk because they’re passionate about the work, but it doesn’t make the uncertainty any less stressful.

7. Relocation Is Part of the Deal

You rarely get to pick where you live in this profession. Jobs pop up where they pop up, and more often than not, they’re in towns you’ve never heard of. If you’re serious about building a career in college strength and conditioning, you go where the opportunity is, not where the weather is nice or where your family lives.

I’ve seen coaches move across the country for graduate assistantships that barely covered rent. Others took jobs in places they swore they’d never live because it was their only option to stay in the profession. That’s the reality — you’re not choosing the city, the city is choosing you.

This constant uprooting can take a toll on relationships and personal stability. It’s tough to build a life when you’re always waiting for the next opportunity to pull you across state lines. For some, that’s exciting. For others, it’s exhausting. Either way, it’s part of the deal you sign up for.

8. Logistics Are Everything

At smaller schools, resources are tight. You don’t get the luxury of endless racks, fancy technology, or large support staff. Instead, you learn to get creative with what you have. That might mean splitting racks between athletes, rotating groups through stations, or programming sessions that use only dumbbells, bands, and bodyweight because that’s all that’s available.

These challenges can actually make you a better coach. When you can’t lean on technology or endless equipment, you’re forced to sharpen your coaching eye and think critically about programming. You learn to simplify, adapt, and maximize efficiency. It’s problem-solving at its core, and it develops skills that carry over anywhere you go.

The downside is that it can feel limiting. You know what an ideal setup would look like, but you don’t have the budget or space to create it. So you do the best with what you’ve got, often improvising on the fly. That adaptability becomes a survival skill in this profession.

9. Bottom of the Totem Pole

At many schools, strength and conditioning still doesn’t get the respect it deserves. Sport coaches are seen as the face of the program, while S&C is treated like background noise. You’re often fighting to prove the value of your program, even when everyone knows deep down that stronger, better-conditioned athletes win more games.

This lack of recognition can be frustrating. You pour hours into programming, coaching, and mentoring athletes, but when the wins come, the credit goes elsewhere. When the losses come, sometimes the blame shifts toward you. It’s a thankless position at times.

The best coaches learn how to advocate for their program without burning bridges. They find ways to communicate their impact in terms others care about — wins, injuries prevented, performance improvements — and they build relationships that help shift perception. But make no mistake: being at the bottom of the totem pole is part of the job.

Image: Newman University Softball at the Legacy of Champions Tournament

10. Navigating Sport Coaches

Working with sport coaches is one of the trickiest parts of the job. Some are fantastic collaborators who trust your expertise and align with your vision. Others want to micromanage your program or dismiss the importance of in-season lifting altogether. You’re constantly navigating personalities and philosophies.

I’ve had coaches flat-out refuse to let their athletes lift during the season, even though that’s when it’s most crucial for maintaining strength and reducing injury risk. You learn to bite your tongue, pick your battles, and make compromises where needed. At the end of the day, you still find ways to serve the athletes, even if it means operating under less-than-ideal circumstances.

On the flip side, I’ve had sport coaches who were completely bought in, and those experiences are incredible. When you and the sport coach are on the same page, the athletes thrive. Those partnerships are where the magic happens, and they remind you why collaboration matters so much.

11. Athletes Are Athletes

At smaller schools, you work with every type of athlete: football players, soccer players, cross country runners, volleyball teams, and more. Not all of them love the weight room. Some are enthusiastic and self-motivated, while others just want to get through it and leave. Your job is to coach both ends of that spectrum.

The rewarding part is watching athletes who initially dreaded lifting buy in over time. When they see results — faster sprint times, higher vertical jumps, fewer injuries — they begin to connect the dots. That moment when their mindset shifts from “I have to do this” to “I want to do this” is one of the most satisfying parts of coaching.

But it’s not automatic. It takes patience, persistence, and creativity to reach athletes where they’re at. You learn quickly that sets and reps are only part of the job — the real work is connecting with athletes as people and guiding them toward long-term growth.

12. Burnout Is Real

The combination of long hours, low pay, constant turnover, and limited recognition wears on even the most passionate coaches. Burnout isn’t just possible — it’s common. A lot of coaches don’t make it five years in the profession because the grind simply consumes them.

I’ve felt it myself. The mornings where you question why you’re doing this, the days when you’re running on fumes and still expected to bring energy for your athletes. The profession demands so much of you that it’s easy to lose sight of your own well-being.

The ones who last find ways to recharge and remind themselves why they started. They lean on their athletes, their peers, and the belief that their work matters. But even then, the threat of burnout never fully goes away. It’s something every coach wrestles with sooner or later.

13. The Impact Makes It Worth It

For all the challenges, this is what keeps coaches in the game: the athletes. Watching them grow not just in strength, but in confidence, resilience, and character, makes the sacrifices worth it. You realize you’re not just building athletes, you’re shaping people who will carry these lessons into the rest of their lives.

One of my most memorable experiences was having an athlete show up to train on Christmas Day. That kind of commitment and drive reminded me why I do this job — because for some athletes, the weight room becomes more than just training; it becomes a place of growth, discipline, and self-belief.

At the end of the day, being a college strength coach isn’t glamorous. It’s underfunded, overworked, and often overlooked. But for those of us who love coaching and believe in the impact it can have, it’s one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. If you’re willing to grind without the spotlight, the payoff isn’t money or fame — it’s the difference you make in the lives of your athletes.

Conclusion

Strength and conditioning at the college level is not for everyone. The hours are long, the pay is low, and the path is filled with obstacles that weed people out quickly. But if you’re the type who thrives on challenge, who believes in the power of the weight room to change lives, and who is willing to sacrifice comfort for impact, then this profession offers something money can’t buy.

It’s not about the spotlight — it’s about the athletes. It’s about being the steady presence that helps them discover what they’re capable of, not just in sport but in life. The impact you have may never make headlines, but it leaves a mark that lasts long after the games are over.

So if you’re considering this path, go in with open eyes. Expect the grind, expect the setbacks, but also expect the reward of knowing you made a difference. Because for those of us who stick it out, the payoff isn’t measured in paychecks — it’s measured in people.