When indie-folk singer Noah Richardson isn’t writing songs or playing to growing crowds across the country, chances are you’ll find him in an unlikely place: Planet Fitness.
It may not sound glamorous, but Richardson isn’t chasing a glamorous workout. He chases consistency.
As his music career continues to flourish, the Philadelphia native has discovered that success on stage isn’t all that different from success in the gym. Both require patience, discipline, and the willingness to keep showing up for a long time before the results come.
That idea comes with honesty. Richardson grew up in the bodybuilding culture thanks to his father and uncle, who introduced him to the legends of the sport at a young age.
“I was really big on Dorian Yates,” Richardson said Muscles and Fitness. “My uncle and dad were very into bodybuilding in the 1980s. My uncle was telling me about Dorian Yates and his workout routine, and I wanted to try something different.”
Richardson eventually found himself following Yates’ legendary “Blood and Guts” philosophy, a training style that focuses on pushing sets to failure.
“I really liked training so you don’t fail,” she says. “I thought it was cool to push yourself.” And I haven’t been to the gym in a long time. I love being in the gym, but I also have things to do. It was nice to work hard and get out.”
Planet Fitness is the Undisputed Champion of Tour Life
Unlike professional athletes who travel with trainers, chefs, and recovery specialists, most freelancers have to figure things out as they go. For Noah Richardson, that often means relying on the familiar purple and yellow logo.
Richardson says: “Planet Fitness has been reliable for a long time. “Everything is there. I can do the job and do everything I need to do.”
While social media often glorifies fancy gyms and complicated workout routines, Richardson’s reality is more practical. Between long van rides, late night pickups, sleeping on the couch, and driving hundreds of miles between shows, consistency is more important than finding the perfect place to train.
That’s why Planet Fitness has become one of his most trusted travel destinations.
“Especially if you play it and sleep on the couch and stuff,” he explained. “You can take a shower. You can do all that.”
The gym serves as a place to lift weights. On the road, it offers a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of travel. Exercise can help reset both the body and mind before another day of driving, auditioning, and playing.
Hockey Builds a Competitive Foundation for Noah Richardson
Long before music became his full-time focus, Richardson was a hockey kid.
Growing up in the Philadelphia area, he spent much of his childhood on the ice, eventually becoming involved with a hockey foundation founded by the late owner of the Flyers. Ed Snider. Although touring now reduces his time in the rink, hockey continues to influence the way he approaches life and music.
“I think sports and weightlifting have taught me that things don’t happen overnight,” said Richardson. “With hard work, you will get somewhere.”
That lesson continues to guide him as an independent artist, creating one song and one performance at a time.
“Learning to slide, learning all those skills, I use that behavior here,” he explains. “I’m learning studio skills, learning to track, learning to do everything.
Growing Up Under Death Taught Noah Richardson How to Live
Many artists can trace their outlook on life back to positive experiences. For Noah Richardson, it happened inside a funeral.
Long before he toured the country and built an audience with vulnerable indie-folk songs, Richardson grew up in a family funeral business in Philadelphia. While most kids spend their weekends at sporting events or birthday parties, he saw moments that most people don’t get together until much later in life.
And according to Richardson, it gave him a front seat to the best and strangest parts of human nature.
“I saw a lot of crazy things,” he said with a laugh. Lots of crazy stuff, we might add.
Over the years, he’s watched grieving family members argue, seen funeral processions turn into celebrations, and seen enough strange requests to fill an entire album’s worth of stories.
“People would say, ‘I want to be buried with a pack of cigarettes.’ And we’d be like, ‘Sure, we can do that.'”
Growing up in Philadelphia added another layer to the experience.
During the Eagles’ historic Super Bowl run, Richardson recalls services where mourners would be seen wearing Eagles jerseys and honoring their loved ones with songs usually reserved for Lincoln Financial Field.
“Everyone was wearing Eagles jerseys during the funeral and singing Eagles songs,” he said. “I was like, this is amazing.”
Then there are the moments that only happen in Philadelphia.
“I saw many people trying to run and jump into the grave,” he said with a laugh.
As strange as some of those memories may sound, growing up around loss gave Richardson a perspective that few people develop at a young age.
He learned that everyone has a story. That life rarely goes according to plan. And that people ultimately want to be remembered for who they were. Quirs, faults, passions, and all.
Those lessons continue to influence his songwriting today.
The honesty that defines Richardson’s music comes from spending years watching the most vulnerable, emotional, and often human.
That’s also why he doesn’t seem overly concerned with timelines, trends, or comparisons. Because after seeing what really matters to people at the end of their lives, you’ve learned something that many spend decades trying to figure out:
Show. Work hard. Love your people. And maybe don’t take yourself too seriously.
Some tend to resolve on their own.
Treatment Changed More Than Her Mental Health
Richardson’s music has touched listeners because of its emotional honesty, but he admits that his relationship with songwriting has evolved as he has invested heavily in his mental health.
“For a long time, writing was completely my thing,” she says. “Then I started going to therapy and looking for professionals.”
The change created an unexpected challenge.
“I found myself thinking, ‘Man, going to therapy didn’t make me a worse songwriter, but I wasn’t putting everything into a song,'” he says. “I was learning healthy ways to deal with some of the things I was going through.”
Today, Richardson sees songwriting and therapy as complementary rather than competing forces.
“My favorite writing sessions probably start as therapy sessions,” she explains. “Everybody talks about what’s going on in their life, and that ends up influencing what you create.”
That willingness to process emotions freely carries over to life on the road, where Richardson credits his bandmates for helping him navigate the challenges that come with touring.
“Life still happens when you’re on tour,” he says. “Family stuff, personal stuff, whatever. I am lucky to have good people around me who are good listeners.”
Sleep is Non-negotiable
Ask Richardson what has changed the most as he’s gotten older, and the answer comes quickly.
Sleep.
“Oh my God, sleep is everything,” he said.
At 27 years old, he has learned that recovery is more important than when he was in his early twenties.
He says: “I used to be able to stay up until three o’clock in the morning and wake up feeling healthy. “Now that’s not the case.”
That awareness has become especially important in protecting his voice. Richardson compares vocal health to strength training. Both require proper technique, recovery, and consistency.
“It took me a really long time to learn the right way to speak,” he says. “Like lifting, there’s a lot of different techniques involved.”
After singing, he often limits conversations with his partners to give his voice time to recover. Hard work for someone who clearly enjoys the camaraderie of life on the road.
Heat Between Shows
Nutrition is still a work in progress. Richardson laughs when discussing the realities of post-show eating habits.
“You don’t eat all day, and then after the show you’re hungry,” he says. “That’s when the $40 Taco Bell order comes into play.”
In order to maintain his high protein diet while on the go, he has developed a surprisingly effective strategy.
“42 grams of Core Power, a Barebells protein bar, and one of those lunch meat packets from the gas station,” he says. “That’s like 75 grams of protein right there.”
It’s not a diet plan that would impress a bodybuilder, but it’s a plan that works while traveling hundreds of miles between locations. For Richardson, that’s what life comes down to: doing the best you can with what’s available.
Whether it’s training like Dorian Yates, discovering Planet Fitness between tour stops, or learning to balance healing, creativity, and recovery, Richardson approaches growth the same way he approaches music.
One day at a time.
And like the bodybuilders he loves, he’s betting that consistency will eventually take care of others.
