Neurodivergent Doesn’t Mean Broken: Coaching Strength Without Shame
- Josh Hezza
- Apr 15
- 23 min read

Neurodivergent Doesn’t Mean Broken: Coaching Strength Without Shame
🧠 Strength Isn’t Neurotypical
Neurodivergent lifters aren’t broken. They’re not lazy. Not “difficult.” Not making excuses.
More often than not, they’re just being coached by systems that weren’t built with them in mind.
Powerlifting, strongman, weightlifting, Highland Games, Hyrox, CrossFit—whatever your discipline, the standard training model is almost always made for neurotypical brains and bodies. Predictable energy levels. Consistent executive function. Sensory systems that don’t go haywire from chalk dust and loud music. Social cues that are easy to read.
And when those assumptions don’t hold? The athlete is usually blamed.
They’re seen as inconsistent. Or uncoachable. Or too high-maintenance. Or “just not cut out for it.”
That’s bullshit.
Because this isn’t about being soft. It’s about being strategic. And strategy gets results.
As a coach and lifter who deals with these things personally, I’ve worked with dozens of neurodivergent athletes—many of whom didn’t even know they were neurodivergent until years into their lifting journey. What they knew, though, was that “normal” training didn’t seem to work for them the way it did for everyone else.
They’d burn out. Get anxious before meets. Forget to eat. Obsess over numbers. Melt down in noisy gyms. Push through fatigue that wasn’t just physical. And they’d get told to try harder.
So let me be clear about what this article is not:
I’m not here to tell you about your own experience with neurodivergence—whether that’s autism, ADHD, OCD, EDS, or even what often gets misdiagnosed as BPD/EUPD, especially in women and gender-divergent lifters.
I’m not here to be a guru.
I’m not the “autism whisperer.”
And I’m not claiming that every neurodivergent athlete is the same or needs the same approach.
But I am here to tell you this: There are patterns. There are problems. And there are ways to make things better.
This article is about the real-world challenges that neurodivergent lifters face—and how we as coaches, teammates, and athletes can actually work with those challenges, not against them.
We’ll cover everything from ADHD-fuelled boredom and executive dysfunction, to autistic anxiety around change and competition. We’ll dig into proprioceptive issues common in Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), food struggles, communication mismatches, and how physical fatigue and sensory burnout can derail even the best-laid program.
And we’ll talk about what works.
Including why the Conjugate Method—yes, that heavy, chaotic, variation-based system Louie Simmons made famous—might just be the best possible framework for a lot of neurodivergent athletes.
Not because it’s trendy. But because it helps.
As a neurodivergent lifter and coach with over a decade of experience in strength sports—and a background in social policy focused on marginalised and neurodivergent populations—I’m uniquely positioned to speak on this topic. I live it, coach it, and study it. I also manage Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) myself, which means I’ve navigated the intersection of neurodivergence, chronic pain, and high-level performance from both sides of the barbell.
If you’re a coach, this is your chance to get better—not by lowering standards, but by improving the system.
If you’re a lifter who’s been told you’re “too much” or “not consistent enough”—this one’s for you. Because you might not be the problem. The plan might be.
Let’s fix that.
🧠 Part 1: What Most Coaches Get Wrong
Let’s be honest—coaching neurodivergent lifters is not about reinventing the wheel. It’s about removing the potholes that keep it from turning properly.
The problem isn’t that neurodivergent athletes can’t follow structure, take feedback, or make progress. The problem is that most coaching models were never designed with them in mind.
They assume certain defaults:
That you understand social nuance.
That you can transition between tasks on cue.
That loud environments are just “part of it.”
That if you want it bad enough, you’ll push through.
For neurodivergent lifters, these assumptions don’t just fall flat—they can actively derail progress.
Let’s unpack the most common issues.
📉 1. Inconsistent Communication = Confusion or Exclusion
Many neurodivergent athletes thrive on clear, repeatable, predictable communication. If a coach’s tone, feedback, or expectations change week to week—or even session to session—it creates uncertainty.
This doesn’t mean you have to talk like a robot. It means being intentional:
Say what you mean. Don’t hint, imply, or assume.
Be predictable. Give feedback at the same point in each session or check-in.
Keep language consistent. If you say “hip drive,” don’t switch to “glute punch” mid-block without explaining it.
🧠 Why it matters: For autistic athletes in particular, inconsistency feels like instability. And when someone feels like they can’t predict their environment, they disengage—or melt down.
😬 2. Shame-Based Motivation Does More Harm Than Good
A lot of traditional coaching—especially in strength sports—leans on “tough love” or bootcamp-style motivation.
For many neurodivergent lifters, especially those with rejection sensitivity, history of misdiagnosis, or co-existing mental health conditions, this lands like a punch to the gut.
“You’re just being lazy.” “Everyone else figured it out.” “Why don’t you listen?” These aren’t motivators. They’re emotional landmines.
Shame doesn't create discipline. It creates avoidance. And if your athlete starts ghosting you, missing sessions, or going silent—it’s probably not laziness. It’s a trauma response.
Instead of using shame to correct behaviour, use clarity to guide it:
“I noticed you missed this session. Do we need to adjust expectations?”
“This cue didn’t seem to land. Let’s try another one.”
“How are you feeling about the last few weeks of training?”
🧠 Key point: If you want buy-in from neurodivergent lifters, coach with curiosity, not control.
🤔 3. Misreading Curiosity as Disrespect
Neurodivergent lifters—especially ADHD or autistic folks—often ask a lot of questions. They want to know why they’re doing something. They want to understand how it fits into the bigger picture. They want to bridge your logic with theirs.
This is not an attack on your authority. It’s an attempt to make things make sense.
But many coaches interpret it as:
Backtalk
Ego
“Not trusting the plan”
That response shuts the lifter down—and reinforces the idea that they’re hard to work with.
The fix? Encourage curiosity. Reward thoughtful questions. Explain your reasoning. It builds trust, not rebellion.
🧠 Reality check: If a lifter understands the “why,” they’ll follow the “what” a hell of a lot more consistently.
🧍 4. Social Confusion in Group Settings
Autistic lifters—especially those who mask heavily—often struggle with social uncertainty in team or group training environments.
Am I welcome in this group?
Am I doing the warm-up wrong?
Did I annoy someone?
Do I belong here?
This can create immense anxiety, even in the absence of any actual issue. And in groups where banter is the norm, subtle exclusion can feel like rejection.
Coaches need to be:
Explicitly inclusive (“Hey, you’re doing great—glad you’re here.”)
Clear with expectations (e.g., “We’re all rotating through this station together”)
Protective of atmosphere (Don’t let regulars or “gym bros” dominate the vibe)
🧠 Remember: Uncertainty doesn’t mean your lifter is antisocial—it means they’re trying to decode rules no one ever taught them.
🔁 5. Ridiculing Repetition or Slow Processing
Some ND athletes need to hear a cue five times before it sticks. Or they need to try a movement a dozen ways before they feel it.
This isn’t defiance. It’s processing delay. And being mocked for it—even subtly—makes it worse.
Imagine being the lifter who finally gets the courage to say, “Sorry, can you explain that again?” and getting a sigh, an eye-roll, or a sarcastic “We’ve been over this.”
That’s not tough love. That’s bad coaching.
🧠 Solution: Assume that repetition is part of the process—not a problem to correct.
🧨 The Real Problem: Coaches Misinterpret the Signals
Here’s the truth: neurodivergent lifters often present in ways that are misread.
What the coach sees | What’s actually happening |
“They’re lazy.” | Executive dysfunction, burnout, or fatigue. |
“They’re disrespectful.” | Curiosity or verbal processing. |
“They’re flaky.” | Sensory overload or social anxiety. |
“They’re emotional.” | Rejection sensitivity or shame triggers. |
“They’re inconsistent.” | Program doesn’t accommodate energy fluctuations. |
The fix isn’t to lower standards. It’s to change how we interpret the data.
Because once you coach the athlete in front of you—instead of the stereotype in your head—everything gets better. For them. For you. For the sport.
A good strength coach becomes an anchor of consistency and a bridge between chaos and clarity. That’s not a luxury — it’s a necessity.
🏗️ Part 2: Training-Specific Challenges & Solutions
The difference between a lifter thriving and a lifter burning out isn’t always effort. It’s usually how well the training fits the way their brain and body actually function.
For neurodivergent lifters, some of the biggest hurdles don’t show up in a spreadsheet or an Instagram highlight reel. They show up in the gaps between intention and action, the mismatch between well-meaning programming and what a lifter is truly capable of managing — especially on their hardest days.
Let’s break down some of the most common training-specific challenges ND athletes face, and how to coach through them — not around them.
✅ Executive Dysfunction
What it is: Executive dysfunction is the struggle to initiate, plan, or follow through — not because someone doesn’t care or isn’t trying, but because the mental bandwidth just isn’t there in that moment.
Think of it as knowing you want to train… Having the energy to train… Even being excited to train… But still sitting on the couch for 45 minutes because your brain can’t load the task.
This isn’t laziness. It’s neurology.
What helps:
Session checklists: Clear, 3–5 step pre-session routines. (e.g., “shoes, belt, bar loaded, warm-up done, go.”)
Flexible planning: Letting lifters shift sessions across a weekly rhythm rather than rigid M/W/F splits.
Accountability anchors: A text check-in, a scheduled slot, or a coach message like “you good for squats tonight?” can be the difference between action and avoidance.
Why Conjugate helps: Conjugate naturally provides variety for novelty-seeking brains (ME days) and predictable structure (DE and accessories). That rotating-yet-rhythmic setup lets training feel fresh without overwhelming.
✅ Proprioception & Body Awareness
What it is: Proprioception is your body’s ability to know where it is in space. Many ND athletes — especially those with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) or hypermobility — struggle here.
It’s not a “mobility” problem. It’s a stability and awareness issue.
What feels “straight” might not be. What feels “tight” might actually be loose. What looks like “bad form” might be a brain-body disconnect, not a lack of effort.
What helps:
Tempo work and pauses: Gives time to feel positions, reinforce motor patterns, and build control.
Reverse bands and guided movement tools: Reduce fear of collapse or instability while still challenging intent.
Consistent cueing: Coaches should avoid switching language too often. Pick a cue and stick with it until it lands.
🧠 If a lifter needs to “find their feet” or “lock in their lats,” they might need to literally learn what that feels like first.
✅ Hyperfocus & Fixation on Numbers
What it is: Many neurodivergent athletes — especially those with autism, OCD, or ADHD — can become intensely fixated on hitting exact numbers, beating a PR, or “redeeming” a session.
It becomes a binary: “I hit the number = success.” “I missed it = I suck.”
That mindset doesn’t just lead to burnout. It creates shame spirals and overtraining.
What helps:
Coaching reframes: Shift the goal from number-chasing to stimulus-chasing. → “You’re not trying to beat the number — you’re trying to create the right strain for adaptation.”
Focus on execution and effort cues: → “Was that the best technical triple you’ve done?” → “Did you move with intent and control?”
Use RPE and variation: → Rotating lifts in Conjugate naturally avoids direct PR comparison week to week, reducing obsession and fostering progress over perfection.
✅ Sensory Overload & Environmental Stress
What it is: Crowded gyms. Too many conversations. Metal music, fluorescent lights, and the sound of deadlifts smashing into platforms.
For many lifters, that’s “vibe.” For neurodivergent lifters, it can be a meltdown waiting to happen.
What helps:
Quiet training times or remote options.
Ear defenders, hoodies, and dim lighting.
Training partners who don’t rely on sarcasm or intensity to “motivate.”
Creating structured warm-up zones where the athlete feels safe.
And most importantly: Coaches should stop dismissing this as oversensitivity. This is about nervous system management, not coddling.
For some lifters, that barbell knurling, belt pressure, and ritual of chalking up isn’t just routine — it’s sensory regulation. The gym becomes a sanctuary of tactile feedback and rhythmic movement. But the same tools that soothe can also overstimulate. Coaches need to recognise that sensory input cuts both ways — and be ready to adapt accordingly.
✅ Fatigue: Mental & Physical
What it is: Neurodivergent athletes are often managing fatigue that isn’t just muscular. It’s sensory fatigue. Emotional fatigue. Decision-making fatigue.
Many start their training week already at a disadvantage — and if their program doesn’t account for that, they fall behind, spiral, and quit.
What helps:
Built-in flexibility and autoregulation.
Swapping ME for DE when burnt out.
Structured deloads before breakdown, not after.
Using GPP for recovery, not punishment.
A good coach doesn’t just ask, “Can they lift today?” They ask, “What’s the cost of this session on the rest of the week?”
✅ Food, Body Image & Internal Struggles
What it is: Eating challenges are incredibly common among ND lifters — and often completely missed by strength coaches.
Autistic lifters may struggle with food texture and consistency.
ADHD lifters may forget to eat, binge due to missed meals, or hyperfocus to the point of skipping entire feeding windows.
OCD or anxiety-prone athletes may spiral into obsessive tracking or disordered eating patterns.
What helps:
Coach awareness: Know what’s not your scope of practice — but also don’t trigger guilt.
Remove punishment cues from conditioning. → “You skipped breakfast, so we’re pushing the sled?” Absolutely not.
Nourishment over aesthetics: Reinforce food as fuel for performance and recovery.
The goal isn’t to become a nutritionist — it’s to program with care, avoid harm, and refer when needed.
This section speaks to what a lifters-first, systems-aware coach needs to know.
It’s not about walking on eggshells. It’s about creating a framework that makes the athlete more capable, more confident, and more resilient — not more fragile.
🏗️ Part 3: Structure and Flexibility – Why Conjugate Works So Well
The Conjugate Method has often been misunderstood — especially by people who assume it’s just chaotic variation, novelty for the sake of novelty, or a complicated excuse not to follow a linear plan.
But in reality, Conjugate thrives at the intersection of structure and flexibility — which is exactly why it works so well for neurodivergent athletes.
It offers just enough consistency to feel grounded, and just enough variation to keep things engaging.
For ADHD: Novelty Without Losing the Plot
Lifters with ADHD aren’t lazy, unmotivated, or “scattered.” They’re often brilliantly focused — on the wrong things when boredom strikes. The hardest part isn’t effort. It’s stimulation.
Most traditional programs fail ADHD athletes because they’re either:
too rigid (3 sets of 5 at 75%… again),
too repetitive (squat, bench, deadlift forever),
or too long before anything exciting happens (weeks of slow build-ups before the “real work”).
Conjugate solves this by rotating Max Effort lifts every 1–2 weeks, introducing new movements regularly, and building speed and intent into Dynamic Effort sessions. This creates weekly novelty with a purpose.
🧠 What this looks like in practice:
A lifter might go from a 3RM Safety Bar Box Squat one week → to a 1RM Front Squat with Chains the next.
On DE Upper, barbell speed work might become axle bar or Swiss bar work — still speed-focused, but new enough to spark interest.
Every session has something to attack, rather than just something to complete.
It’s structure without stagnation — exactly what ADHD athletes thrive on.
For Autism: Predictability Without Rigidity
While ADHD brains crave novelty, many autistic athletes crave predictability. Not just in what they do, but in how and when they do it.
That doesn’t mean autistic lifters can’t handle change — it just means change must be clearly signposted and purpose-driven.
For many autistic athletes, training isn’t just a hobby — it’s a safe special interest. It offers structure, identity, and autonomy. Treating that with respect builds not just physical strength, but long-term consistency and confidence.
Conjugate works beautifully for this. It provides:
Weekly templates (ME/DE Upper & Lower)
A stable schedule (e.g., DE work always includes speed triples, often with band/chain tension)
Predictable themes (each lift has a specific intent)
Clear wave progressions (DE might follow a 3-week loading wave, accessories stay for 2–3 weeks)
This makes training easier to navigate, reduces anticipatory anxiety, and gives the athlete a feeling of control within a dynamic system.
Importantly, it also prevents destructive hyperfocus on numbers.
Because the lifts rotate, the athlete isn’t chasing the same PR every week. They’re focused on movement quality, strain, and execution — not a specific percentage that’s been haunting them for a month.
Variation ≠ Chaos: Structured Novelty
Too many coaches misunderstand Conjugate’s use of variation and write it off as random. But for neurodivergent lifters, variation done correctly is a superpower.
Here’s the key:
✅ Variation in main lift selection
✅ Stability in training structure, accessories, and intent
✅ Purposeful, pre-planned changes that create targeted stress, not confusion
This gives both ADHD and autistic lifters a system that:
Encourages exploration without derailing progress
Prevents burnout from overrepetition
Reduces obsessive tendencies toward single metrics
Creates multiple “wins” per block — not just one all-or-nothing lift
Real-World Examples - They're over simplified but you get it
📌 ADHD Lifter: Struggles with attention span and gets bored after 4 weeks of back squats.
➡️ Rotate to Front Squats, Box Squats, Good Mornings, Axle Variations — all ME Lower lifts with new challenges and novelty. Keep DE Lower as speed box squats with bands — consistency through intent.
📌 Autistic Lifter: Gets anxious when their plan changes without warning.
➡️ Provide a 4-week outlook: ME Upper = floor press, incline, board press, log press. Keep DE Upper structure identical (9x3 with bands, three grips), and clearly outline warm-up plans and accessories for each week.
The result? Less stress. More buy-in. Better outcomes.
🔁 Why It Works
✅ ADHD lifters stay engaged without overhauling the whole system.
✅ Autistic lifters get clarity, security, and flow in their training rhythm.
✅ Coaches can pivot and problem-solve without throwing the whole plan out the window.
This isn’t “one weird trick.” It’s just what happens when a system built for adaptive, evolving training is used to actually meet athletes where they are.
📅 Part 4: Peaking for Peace – Managing Anxiety Around Competition
For most lifters, peaking for a meet is about planning when to taper, when to deload, and when to hit openers.
For neurodivergent lifters? It’s also about managing sensory input, cognitive overload, social ambiguity, and performance anxiety that doesn’t always show up as “nerves” — but as shutdown, burnout, or total system freeze.
And here’s the brutal truth: Most traditional peaking systems make it worse. They’re vague, reactive, and built around neurotypical assumptions — that the athlete knows what’s coming, can handle uncertainty, and will “just figure it out on meet day.”
We can do better than that.
🧠 Pre-Comp Anxiety ≠ Weakness — It’s Sensory and Cognitive Overload
For autistic and ADHD lifters, the lead-up to a competition can trigger:
Sensory stress (new environments, crowd noise, unpredictable sounds)
Schedule disruption (travel, weigh-ins, poor sleep, nutrition changes)
Decision paralysis (openers, warm-up timing, event order)
Social uncertainty (group warm-ups, unclear instructions, unfamiliar judges)
This isn’t “getting in your head.” It’s overwhelm, system-wide.
And without a plan, it snowballs.
🧩 Why Structured Peaking Blocks Work
Traditional Conjugate doesn’t have a “typical peak.” But what we do have is the ability to reverse-engineer a taper that keeps the nervous system sharp while reducing load and uncertainty.
This means:
Gradual deloading of volume, not just intensity
Clear changes to session length, complexity, and warm-up needs
Rehearsal of meet-day rhythms in the final 2–3 weeks
For neurodivergent lifters, structure is safety. And when that structure includes detailed, predictable, sensible peaking strategies, anxiety reduces — and performance improves.
🧾 What This Looks Like in Practice - Again this is a bit of a performative example and won't work for everyone
📅 3 Weeks Out:
DE bars start to rotate less.
Accessories simplified and shortened.
Coaches provide a printed or written visual timeline: → "Here’s what each of the next 3 weeks will look like. No surprises."
🧠 2 Weeks Out:
Include “intro” or “low-volume” sessions with movement patterns that feel safe.
Warm-ups are rehearsed.
Add structured stimming options to sessions (e.g., bring headphones, weighted hoodie, a self-soothing object).
🥇 1 Week Out:
Full taper.
No new cues. No new expectations.
Stick to known movements and familiar warm-up protocols.
Create a pre-meet checklist: gear, food, backup plan, sensory kit.
Schedule deliberate downtime and remind athlete it’s part of the plan.
🧩 Meet Day Tools for ND Athletes
🧘 For Autistic Lifters:
Use noise-cancelling headphones, sunglasses, hoodie up in warm-up rooms.
Provide a briefing sheet with exact times, events, and instructions.
Offer a meet-day anchor — someone who can be the lifter’s point person to reduce ambiguity.
Avoid overloading with new people or high-energy hype.
🔄 For ADHD Lifters:
Offer stim breaks but also novelty cues (e.g., rotating warm-up bars to reduce restlessness).
Use verbal timers (“Deadlifts in 5 minutes”) or visual countdowns.
Provide a clear “you’re doing great, we’re on track” reminder — the inner critic can be loud that day.
—
🏁 Why This Matters
If a neurodivergent lifter is feeling overstimulated, underprepared, or panicked before their first squat, it’s already too late. The peak failed — even if the program was technically sound.
But if the athlete:
Knows what to expect
Feels supported in how they regulate their environment
Has a timeline, not a surprise
Feels in control of their body and cues
Then they don’t just survive competition.
They show up as their most regulated, confident, and focused self — ready to lift.
🗣️ Part 5: Communicating Like a Coach (Not a Drill Sergeant)
The biggest breakthroughs I’ve seen as a coach haven’t come from the perfect program or the perfect lift.
They’ve come from being heard. From an athlete finally getting clear instruction, consistent feedback, and the kind of coaching tone that makes them want to come back — not shut down.
If you’re working with neurodivergent lifters, your communication style can be the single biggest factor in whether they thrive under your guidance… or burn out entirely.
This isn’t about walking on eggshells. It’s about cutting through the noise and building trust.
💬 Say What You Mean. Don’t Hint.
Neurotypical athletes might intuitively “read between the lines” of a cue. Neurodivergent athletes — especially those with autism or ADHD — often need direct, literal, and unambiguous language.
Don’t say:
“You know what to do here…”
Say:
“Grab the SSB, set it to pin height 4, and aim for 3 reps at an RPE 8.”
Avoid vague instructions like:
“Move better.”
“Feel the movement.”
“Get tighter.”
Unless the athlete has been trained to understand those cues, they won’t land. Be specific:
“Brace your abs before you drop.”
“Pull the slack out of the bar before you move.”
“Squeeze your glutes at lockout.”
🔁 Repeat Cues Without the Eye Roll
Some ND lifters need repetition. That doesn’t mean they’re inattentive — it means they process information differently.
If you give a cue and it doesn’t register, repeating it with the same tone and intention is key.
Not:
Sigh “We’ve gone over this a thousand times.”
But:
“Same cue as before — control the descent, then pause one second at the bottom.”
Reinforcement builds fluency. Sarcasm builds distance.
📝 Use Written + Verbal Instructions
Combine your cues with written summaries, especially after a session. This might look like:
A brief recap message: “Here’s what went well and what to work on next.”
A checklist of warm-up drills or accessory exercises.
A bullet-point plan for meet prep or peak weeks.
Written instructions reduce anxiety, build confidence, and give the athlete something to revisit — especially useful for those with working memory issues or executive dysfunction.
📣 Be Consistent in Tone, Feedback, and Expectations
One week you’re chill, the next you’re shouting? That inconsistency will wreck confidence in autistic athletes who already struggle with ambiguity.
Stick to:
The same coaching voice (firm but encouraging).
Clear expectations (“We’re aiming for 3 reps today, not a PR.”).
Consistent language (“Bracing” shouldn’t become “tighten up” unless explained).
Routine isn’t boring — it’s reassuring.
🙌 Give Praise and Clarity at the Same Time
ND lifters — especially those with anxiety, OCD, or rejection sensitivity — may fixate on what they did wrong, even if the set looked great.
That’s why positive-reinforcement-first feedback helps:
“That was your best set yet — now let’s move your feet slightly wider on the setup.”
Not:
“You’re still not getting it. Just widen your stance.”
You’re not lowering the standard — you’re raising the level of trust.
Many ND athletes struggle with perfectionism or all-or-nothing thinking. Highlighting process wins — like “best-feeling set” or “cleanest execution” — helps rewire that mindset. It’s not lowering standards; it’s expanding the definition of success.
🧠 Avoid Abstract Metaphors (Unless Pre-Taught)
“Push your hips through like you’re humping the air” might get a laugh in a neurotypical group.
But for a literal thinker? That cue could confuse more than it helps.
Stick to visual or tactile metaphors only if they’re already understood:
“Imagine pushing the floor away.”
“Pretend you’re trying to crack a walnut between your glutes.”
If a metaphor confuses, drop it. Return to biomechanical clarity.
🧾 Ask Better Questions in Check-Ins
Instead of:
“How was training this week?”
Try:
“What was the best moment of training this week?” “What was the hardest or weirdest part?” “What made you feel strong / confident / frustrated?”
These prompt reflective answers. They tell you not just how the program is working — but how the athlete is experiencing it.
If you’re willing to listen, they’ll tell you exactly how to help them.
🚫 Curiosity ≠ Defiance
Neurodivergent athletes asking “why” isn’t always a challenge to authority. It’s often a processing tool. They need to understand the logic to commit fully.
If an athlete asks,
“Why are we using chains here instead of bands?”
Don’t shut it down with:
“Because I said so.”
Try:
“Good question — chains deload less in the bottom, so I want to build more control through your sticking point.”
That moment becomes a learning opportunity, not a power struggle.
Good communication isn’t about dumbing things down. It’s about making your message land — clearly, respectfully, and consistently.
If you do that? You’ll get stronger athletes, deeper trust, and better results — whether you’re working with someone who’s neurodivergent, neurotypical, or simply needs a coach who gives a damn.
💤 Part 6: Recovery & Scheduling – Understanding Fatigue Beyond the Surface
One of the most misunderstood aspects of coaching neurodivergent lifters is how unpredictable their recovery patterns can be.
A neurotypical athlete might hit a heavy squat session and bounce back in 48 hours.
A neurodivergent lifter — especially one with ADHD, autism, or a connective tissue condition like Ehlers-Danlos — might feel totally wrecked from the same volume… or crash halfway through the week even if training looks “light.”
That’s not a lack of effort. It’s not poor work ethic. It’s a different neurological and physiological landscape. And if you’re a coach, your job is to work with that reality — not shame it into submission.
😴 Sleep Isn’t Simple
Sleep disturbance is common across ADHD and autism. Whether it’s difficulty winding down, sensory issues with temperature or bedding, or anxiety that flares at night — rest becomes work.
And when rest is disrupted, fatigue accumulates fast.
Coaching implications:
Don’t assume 7–8 hours of sleep is realistic every night.
Build in flexibility for days when the tank is empty before training even begins.
Ask about sleep patterns in check-ins — not just “Did you train hard?”
⚠️ Fatigue Doesn’t Always Make Sense
Neurodivergent fatigue can be:
Delayed (showing up 48–72 hours later)
Sudden (crashing mid-session)
Cognitive, not muscular (the brain is done even if the muscles could keep going)
Triggered by life, not just lifting (sensory overwhelm, schedule changes, social stress)
That means a program needs more than just progressive overload.
It needs exit ramps — ways for the athlete to downshift without guilt.
Examples:
Planned “light days” or flexible DE substitutions
Programming GPP in a way that can be skipped or replaced with walking or mobility
Allowing for “deload weeks” before the crash happens — not as damage control
✅ Rest Days Are Programming — Not Punishment
Too many lifters (and coaches) treat rest like failure. For neurodivergent athletes, this is especially toxic — because their baseline stress level is often already high.
We need to frame rest as strategy, not softness.
Tell your athletes:
“The goal is progress, not survival. Rest days are the insurance policy for your long-term results.”
Make it visible in the program:
Write rest days in as actual sessions ("Session 3: Active Recovery + Walk 20 min + Band Work")
Include a reason ("We deload here to let the nervous system recharge after heavy pulls.")
Provide examples of what to do if they can’t rest (e.g., walking, sauna, movement snacks)
🧠 Track Recovery Beyond DOMS
If your only recovery metric is "How sore are you?", you're missing the picture.
Here’s what neurodivergent lifters should be taught to check:
Cognitive sharpness — "Did I forget my warm-up again?"
Emotional state — "Did I cry after my third set of RDLs because the music changed?"
Joint feedback — "Do my elbows feel weird when I press, even if nothing hurts yet?"
Motivation and arousal levels — "Am I dragging myself to train, or ready to go?"
Create a system:
Daily or weekly checkboxes (Sleep, Mood, Focus, Joint pain, Motivation)
Colour-coded calendars (Green = good, Yellow = meh, Red = pull back)
Reflective journaling for those who enjoy writing: “What went well? What felt off?”
🦴 Special Note: Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) and Hypermobility
Many neurodivergent lifters — especially autistic women and AFAB individuals — have undiagnosed or late-diagnosed Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) or other hypermobility spectrum disorders.
Here’s what that means:
Ligamentous laxity — joints don’t provide as much stability under load
Poor proprioception — the brain struggles to “feel” where the body is in space
Fatigue and recovery challenges — due to systemic connective tissue fragility
And here’s the good news: Powerlifting, when programmed intelligently, is one of the best tools for EDS management. It strengthens the muscular support system around the joints, improves motor control, and teaches safer movement patterns — provided it’s done right.
From my article “The Efficacy of Powerlifting for Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Management”, here are key strategies that apply:
🛠 Programming for EDS:
Controlled Eccentrics — slows the movement down so positioning can be felt and refined
Tempo Lifts — reinforce stability and muscle control without excessive joint shear
Limited Volume — better to train more frequently with less wear per session
Reverse Bands and Partial ROMs — reduce end-range load while building confidence
Accessory Work for Joint Integrity — think tibialis raises, hamstring curls, Peterson step-ups, and external rotations
If we want to coach neurodivergent athletes for the long haul, we have to stop seeing recovery as a “break from real training.”
For many ND lifters, recovery is the difference between lasting a decade in strength sports… or burning out in 6 months.
And for those with EDS or similar conditions, the margin is even thinner — but the potential is just as high.
Show your athletes how to listen to their body. Program with their nervous system, not against it. And remind them: fatigue isn’t failure — it’s a message.
🧱 Part 7: Build Systems, Not Shame
Neurodivergent athletes don’t need coddling. They don’t need to be fixed. They don’t need soft coaching or lower standards.
What they need—what they deserve—are systems that reflect how their brain and body actually work.
They need:
Coaches who give clear, direct feedback — not cryptic hints.
Programs that adjust for executive dysfunction, sensory load, and recovery needs — not punishments for “not trying hard enough.”
Environments that are structured, flexible, and psychologically safe — not chaotic, overstimulating, or shame-driven.
Because here's the reality: When neurodivergent lifters are coached well, they don’t just keep up — they often outperform. They hyperfocus. They analyse. They self-monitor. They commit. But they’ll only stay if the system doesn’t break them first.
🚫 Shame Isn’t Programming
Too many coaches try to use shame as a motivator. "You're just making excuses." "You need to push through it." "Other people manage, so why can't you?"
But here’s the truth: Shame never made anyone stronger. It just made them quieter. Until they left.
If you're coaching someone who forgets their gym bag, spirals after a missed lift, struggles with transitions, or panics in loud warm-up rooms — You’re not coaching a “lazy” athlete. You’re coaching someone with a different nervous system.
Adapt. Or lose them.
🧠 You Don’t Need to Be a Neurodivergent Whisperer
No coach has to be a specialist in neurodivergence. You don’t need a PhD in autism studies. You don’t need to have ADHD or EDS yourself.
What you do need is:
A willingness to ask questions.
A commitment to listen.
The humility to change what isn’t working.
Curiosity, care, and clarity. That’s the new big three.
🧬 Neurodivergence Isn’t a Limitation
It’s just a different operating system — and your coaching needs to update accordingly.
Some systems run loud, fast, and full of chaos. Others run quiet, patterned, and precise. But every lifter — ADHD, autistic, OCD, hypermobile, anxious, or all of the above — is capable of extraordinary things when coached with clarity and compassion.
And when you build a system that respects that? You don’t just get stronger athletes. You build lifers — athletes who stay in the sport, thrive in it, and change the culture around it for the better.
Build systems. Ditch shame. And coach like it actually matters.
This piece builds on the lived experience of countless neurodivergent lifters, and the incredible advocacy work from voices across the strength community and beyond —
🏳️⚧️ Inclusivity Matters: Masking, Misdiagnosis & Gender-Diverse Lifters
It’s worth making one final point here — because the neurodivergent lifter population is not only underrepresented in strength sport conversations, but so are trans, nonbinary, and gender-diverse lifters more broadly.
We already touched on how AFAB (assigned female at birth) individuals are disproportionately likely to be:
Masking symptoms,
Misdiagnosed with anxiety or BPD/EUPD instead of autism or ADHD,
Under-supported when it comes to connective tissue disorders like EDS.
But the same applies — often even more so — to trans and nonbinary athletes.
Many gender-diverse lifters come into the strength world already navigating medical trauma, gatekeeping, and social isolation. The last thing they need is a coach who assumes:
Gender equals biology,
Every athlete fits into binary communication styles,
Or that lifting has to be loud, aggressive, and cis-male-dominated to “count.”
This isn’t about over-correcting or treating anyone like glass.
It’s about creating an environment where people feel safe to drop the mask, train how they train best, and be coached without having to decode invisible rules.
Here’s how that might look:
Using they/them pronouns or asking preferred pronouns on intake.
Normalising quiet lifting — not everyone wants to scream and chest-bump to get hyped.
Making space for athletes who express vulnerability around recovery, fatigue, or anxiety without framing it as weakness.
Understanding that ND masking and gender masking often overlap, and that clarity, trust, and routine can be lifesaving — not just helpful.
🧰 Bonus Tools That Actually Help
Here’s a small list of low-barrier, high-impact tools that can make a big difference for neurodivergent lifters — especially when the environment is a challenge:
🔇 Sensory Management
Loop earplugs or noise-cancelling headphones for gyms with overwhelming sound levels.
Tinted glasses or blue-light blockers to manage harsh gym lighting or sensory overwhelm.
Weighted hoodies or compression tops for those who benefit from deep pressure input.
🕒 Structure & Focus
Visual timers or checklists on phones or whiteboards to manage session flow, reduce overwhelm, and increase initiation.
Index cards or app-based reminders of warm-up drills, cue summaries, or set progressions.
Visual calendars or session plans to reduce ambiguity — "Here’s what’s happening this week" is a powerful anchor.
🪀 Stimming & Self-Regulation
Fidget items, chew necklaces, stim rings — things athletes can use between sets or in warm-up rooms without shame.
Dedicated quiet corners in gyms or home setups where lifters can decompress.
These tools aren’t crutches — they’re accommodations. The same way a belt supports your back or wrist wraps protect your joints, these items help regulate the nervous system so performance can shine through.
You don’t need to use all of them.
But knowing they exist — and giving your athletes permission to explore them — might just be the difference between an athlete quitting the sport… or finding their home in it.
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