Blue & Gold Illustrated: America's Foremost Authority on Notre Dame Football
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BLUEGOLDONLINE.COM DECEMBER 2025 15 That financial security, that ability to provide for my wife and support our lifestyle, is a constant hum in the back- ground. The fear of the economy, of lay- offs, of not making enough to keep pace with the life we envision — it's a real and persistent anxiety. It feels like a silent, daily pressure that replaces the roar of the crowd. How do you balance the drive to suc- ceed in your career, to make enough money, with the desire to build a mean- ingful life outside of it? It's a constant tightrope walk, especially with the blurred lines of working from home. The commute used to define the start and end of the workday; now, the laptop can al- ways be open, the emails always checked, making it harder to truly disconnect and find that balance. I'm always be- ing asked about my "dream job," and honestly, it's a ques- tion that makes me roll my eyes a little. My dream job isn't a specific title or company. My dream job is financial free- dom. It's the abil- ity to truly invest in the other aspects of my life that matter most: being a de- voted husband, a future father, a better Catholic, a con- nected friend. It's about having the time and resources to enjoy life, to travel, to spend quality time with family, to pursue hobbies without the constant gnawing worry about the next paycheck. This wrestling match with how much my job should define me, how much it should be used to measure my success in life, is ongoing. In football, your success was quantifiable, public, and directly tied to your role. In the working world, it's often more opaque, more personal. Do I need a job that energizes me every single day, a job with a "greater purpose" that aligns with some grand personal mission? Or is it OK for work to be just that — work — a means to an end that allows me to build the life I truly want, a life filled with purpose found elsewhere? I think I'm leaning towards the latter. Maybe the "purpose" isn't in the job title, but in what the job enables me to do outside of it. It's about being disci- plined enough to excel at work but also disciplined enough to carve out space for everything else that truly defines a rich and balanced life. SEARCHING FOR THE NEXT STEP So, where next? That's the million- dollar question, isn't it? The easy answer would be to say I'm just trying to live a "normal" life, but what the hell is normal after all that? I'm learning to define success not by pounds gained or tackles made, but by inner peace, by healthy relationships, by finding joy in the small, everyday moments that I was too focused (or too sick) to appreciate before. The goal now is balance — finding that sweet spot where I can be strong without being obsessed, driven without being consumed. It's about building a future with my wife, about nurturing a healthy body and mind. This new dream isn't about being an All-American or making the League. It's about being a good family man, the kind of husband who shows up fully, present and healthy, for the woman who stood by me when I was at my lowest. It's about trying to succeed in my work not for the accolades, but for the stabil- ity and the freedom it provides, allow- ing me to build that life. It's about being a better Catholic, re- connecting with a faith that got lost in the shuffle of performance and pain, finding solace and guidance in some- thing bigger than myself again. And yeah, it's about that white picket fence dream, buying a home, laying down roots, creat- ing a sanctuary for my future family. But none of that comes easy, and sharing this part of my life — the raw, ugly truth of it — is a challenge in itself. It's one thing to live through it. It's an- other to lay it bare for the world. There's a fear, I guess, that people will only see the "before" picture, or that they won't understand the depth of the struggle. Yet, there's a deeper drive that pushes me to talk about it. So many former athletes, especially linemen like me, struggle with finding themselves when the lights dim. We're trained to be a certain way, to embody a certain physical and mental toughness, and when that structure is gone, a lot of us just flounder. We lose our identity, our purpose and, often, our health. If my story, with all its messiness and vulnerability, can reach just one other person who feels that same lostness, that same gnawing emptiness, and make them feel less alone, then it's worth it. It's about turning the pain into pur- pose, transforming a personal hell into a guiding light for others. I want them to know that it's OK to fall apart, and it's even more powerful to put yourself back together, piece by piece, on your own terms. The discipline I learned in football, the relentless pursuit of a goal, it's still in me. But now, it's being redirected. It's the dis- cipline to show up for therapy, the disci- pline to eat mindfully, the discipline to be present in my relationships, the discipline to work hard at a job that doesn't always offer immediate gratification. It's a constant tightrope walk, find- ing the balance between that ingrained drive for perfection and allowing my- self to just be, to have fun, to enjoy the simple pleasures without overthinking every calorie or every decision. Life after football, after the eating disorder, it's about embracing the grey areas, finding joy in the small victories, and understanding that real strength isn't always about being the biggest or the strongest, but about being resilient, adaptable and, most importantly, truly, honestly, yourself. ✦ "So many former athletes, especially linemen like me, struggle with finding themselves when the lights dim. We're trained to be a certain way, to embody a certain physical and mental tough- ness, and when that structure is gone, a lot of us just flounder. We lose our identity, our purpose and, often, our health. "If my story, with all its messiness and vulnerability, can reach just one other person who feels that same lostness, that same gnawing emptiness, and make them feel less alone, then it's worth it." RUHLAND