In the high-octane world of independent music, the romanticized image of the touring artist often involves late-night indulgences, erratic sleep schedules, and a total disregard for physical well-being. However, indie-folk artist Noah Richardson is rewriting the touring playbook. For Richardson, the stage and the weight room are not separate domains; they are two sides of the same coin, both requiring a level of discipline, patience, and unwavering consistency that is rarely associated with the nomadic life of a musician.
When he isn’t captivating growing crowds across the country with his emotive, acoustic-driven storytelling, the Philadelphia native is almost certainly finding his center beneath the familiar purple-and-yellow glow of a Planet Fitness. While his peers might chase the prestige of high-end boutique gyms, Richardson views his fitness journey through the lens of a blue-collar ethos, treating every rep and every set as an essential component of his professional endurance.
The Core Philosophy: Bodybuilding Roots and "Blood and Guts"
Richardson’s commitment to fitness is far from a recent hobby. His indoctrination into the world of physical culture began in the heart of Philadelphia, under the tutelage of his father and uncle. During the 1980s, a golden era for bodybuilding, the Richardson household was a sanctuary for the sport’s most rigorous philosophies.
"I was really big into Dorian Yates," Richardson reveals in an exclusive interview with Muscle & Fitness. "My uncle and my dad were huge into bodybuilding in the ’80s. My uncle was telling me about Dorian Yates and his workout plan, and I wanted to try something different."
This early exposure led Richardson to adopt the legendary "Blood and Guts" training methodology popularized by six-time Mr. Olympia champion Dorian Yates. The philosophy is famously Spartan: high-intensity training focused on pushing every set to the point of muscular failure. For an artist constantly managing the physical exhaustion of long drives and intensive performance schedules, this method proved to be a perfect match.
"I really liked the training-to-failure aspect of it," Richardson says. "I thought it was cool to push myself. And I wasn’t in the gym for so long. I love being in the gym, but I also have stuff to do. It was nice to work really hard and then get out." This efficiency is the cornerstone of his touring success, allowing him to maintain a physique that supports his performance stamina without sacrificing hours of precious time better spent on songwriting or soundchecks.
Chronology of a Career: From the Ice Rink to the Stage
To understand the tenacity Richardson brings to his music, one must look back to his formative years. Before he ever touched a guitar in a professional capacity, he was a dedicated athlete, specifically a hockey player. His time on the ice, bolstered by the community-focused initiatives of the late Philadelphia Flyers owner Ed Snider, instilled in him a rigorous competitive foundation.
"I think sports and weightlifting both taught me that things aren’t going to happen overnight," Richardson reflects. "With hard work, you’ll get somewhere."
This sentiment is the defining thread of his career. Just as a skater must log thousands of hours on the ice to master the subtleties of blade control, Richardson views his musical development as a craft requiring daily, granular application. "Learning how to skate, learning all those skills, I kind of apply that same work ethic here. I’m learning skills in the studio, learning how to track, learning how to do everything. Practicing and getting in your arena every day is definitely something I carried over."
The Unsung Hero: Planet Fitness as a Tour Essential
The logistics of an independent music tour are notoriously grueling. Unlike professional athletes who travel with an entourage of trainers, nutritionists, and recovery specialists, Richardson and his team navigate the country largely on their own. In this environment, the gym transcends its role as a place for exercise; it becomes a sanctuary of stability.
"Planet Fitness is old reliable," Richardson notes. "Everything’s there. I can get the job done and do everything I need to do."
For the independent musician, the "road life" often means sleeping on couches, enduring long van rides, and navigating the emotional volatility of live performances. In this context, a quick stop at a gym provides a necessary "reset." It is an opportunity to reclaim a sense of normalcy, rinse off the grime of the road, and physically prepare for the next performance.
A Life Perspective Formed in the Funeral Home
Perhaps the most unique aspect of Richardson’s background is his upbringing in the family funeral business. While other children were navigating the typical childhood milestones, Richardson was gaining an early, profound perspective on the human condition.
"I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff," he says, recounting memories that range from the somber to the surreal. He recalls funeral processions turned into boisterous Philadelphia Eagles celebrations and bizarre requests for burial items—like six-packs of beer or cigarette cartons.
These experiences did more than just provide fodder for conversation; they instilled a deep empathy and an acute awareness of the transience of life. "I’ve seen multiple people try to run and jump into the grave," he adds with a laugh. Through these experiences, he learned that life is rarely linear and that human beings are, at their core, defined by their passions, flaws, and quirks.
This, in many ways, is the secret to his songwriting. He isn’t writing to follow trends or to appease algorithms; he is writing to capture the human experience at its most vulnerable. Because he has seen the final chapter of so many stories, he approaches his own life with a grounded, non-anxious temperament. He knows that at the end of the day, the work one leaves behind—the love shared and the effort exerted—is what truly remains.
Mental Health and the Creative Pivot
As his career has accelerated, so too has Richardson’s commitment to mental health. Interestingly, the transition from viewing songwriting as his only emotional outlet to utilizing professional therapy has fundamentally changed his creative process.
"For a long time, writing was entirely my outlet," he explains. "Then I started going to therapy and seeking professionals." Initially, he feared that achieving mental clarity might dull the "edge" of his songwriting. However, he discovered the opposite: by processing his emotions in a healthy environment, he was able to approach his art with greater intention.
"I found myself thinking, ‘Man, going to therapy didn’t make me a worse songwriter, but I wasn’t completely pouring everything into songs anymore.’ I was learning healthier ways to deal with some of the things I was dealing with."
Today, he views his music and his mental health as a symbiotic ecosystem. His favorite writing sessions are those that mirror the collaborative and open environment of a therapy session, where he and his collaborators can discuss life honestly, and that honesty eventually bleeds into the music.
Supporting Data: The Pillars of Touring Longevity
Richardson’s approach to touring can be categorized into three pillars of sustainability:
- Vocal Hygiene as Athletics: At 27, Richardson has moved past the invincibility of his early twenties. He now treats his voice with the same technical care a weightlifter treats their joints. Proper technique and vocal rest are non-negotiable. He is known to limit conversation after shows, prioritizing the preservation of his instrument over social interaction.
- Strategic Nutrition: While the post-show Taco Bell run remains a part of the "touring reality," Richardson has implemented a tactical approach to nutrition. By relying on high-protein staples like Core Power shakes, Barebells bars, and lean deli meats, he maintains a steady protein intake—often hitting upwards of 75 grams in a single, convenience-store-based meal. It is not an ideal aesthetic diet, but it is a functional one.
- The Consistency Metric: Richardson’s success is built on the refusal to break routine. Whether he is in a major city or a remote town, he seeks out the gym. This consistency provides a psychological anchor that prevents the burnout so common in the music industry.
Implications for the Independent Artist
The implications of Noah Richardson’s career path are significant for the next generation of independent artists. He proves that success does not require an abundance of luxury or a massive support team. Instead, it requires the application of professional-grade discipline to the mundane aspects of life.
By treating his body with respect, his mind with care, and his craft with the same intensity he once brought to the hockey rink, Richardson is building a career that is designed to last. He is not looking for a "get-famous-quick" miracle. He is, quite literally, lifting the weight of his ambitions one rep at a time.
In a digital age defined by the cult of the immediate, Richardson stands as a testament to the power of the long game. Whether he is in the studio, on the stage, or at a Planet Fitness in the middle of nowhere, he remains committed to the same simple, effective philosophy: show up, work hard, and love your people. The rest, as he has learned from both his time in the funeral home and his time on the road, will eventually sort itself out.
As he continues to tour and share his music with the world, Richardson is not just an indie-folk artist; he is an example of what is possible when an artist refuses to leave their health—or their humanity—at the door of the venue. His story is a blueprint for endurance, proving that while the stage is where the music happens, the foundation is built in the quiet, consistent work of every single day.
Nana Muazin
Raul Delapena Setiawan
Jia Lissa
