Country
Off Season, The Series
Lane Johnson & the Battle off the Field
Inside a newly built gym, you can hear deep, long inhales and exhales. Heavy metal weights slam against the scalding hot rubber matting, repeating again and again and again. A cool breeze interrupting the thick Oklahoma summer air gives the mountainous athlete a moment of pause—a stillness. But the moment is short; he’s filled with a rush of adrenaline. There’s a laser focus that cannot be deterred. He must keep pressing forward. Philadelphia lineman Lane Johnson sticks to his rigorous daily routine year-round because, without it, everything is on the line. But mounting pressure is no stranger to him.
No Off-Seasons
You wouldn’t think a world champion, 2X First-team All-Pro, 6X Pro Bowler, Walter Payton Man of the Year Nominee, and future first-ballot Hall of Famer suffers from anxiety, but he does. Philadelphia Offensive Tackle Lane Johnson, a franchise titan, hit rock bottom. “I got diagnosed with an anxiety condition in college. I put a lot of pressure on myself. Then, when I was drafted fourth overall, I knew I would be labeled a boom or bust for the rest of my life.” As he gained momentum in his career, so did the fear. Lane didn’t have a mental game plan, so the anxiety simmered underneath until it burst through and stopped him dead in his tracks.
That’s why off-seasons are all work and no play for the Texas native.
During each off-season, I assess and evaluate what I am weak at, and then I attack that. As [professional football players] get older, a lot of mobility decreases. There are certain muscles or certain exercises that we’re not doing. And so, every year is like a reset for me—and it's internally driven. I compete with myself.
Johnson grinds it out in his gym, a second addition to his infamous Jersey-based Bro Barn that he built with his trainer, Gabe Rangel, a former combat Marine special ops sniper who served in Iraq. In the off-season, Lane’s joined by his teammate and quarterback Jalen Hurts, former center, fellow world champion, and future first-ballot Hall of Famer Jason Kelce, and other linemen throughout the league. A colorful mural painted on the back wooden panels of the gym showcases them in full uniform.
This no-days-off work ethic and tenacity is what you would expect from the 6’6, 325-pound lineman who, spanning multiple seasons including 2022, recorded the most games without allowing a sack in football history. But the off-season workout serves a much greater purpose. For most of the season, I’m quieting my mind. I'm not going to get faster with the expectations or the schedule. I'm going to have my routine. I'm going to have to trust in that routine. And everything will play out how it should.
This is his mental diet. If you get caught up in the day-to-day, the practices, the interviews, you can get lost in the sauce. So, for me, it’s about staying calm. And it’s a lesson learned in time.
Johnson has always been locked in and has built up this mental fortitude over the course of his career.
Do or Die
Lane Johnson was always gifted at football. As a kid, he learned how to throw a hog on its back with his cousins, so tossing the pigskin was easy. He played quarterback in high school and dreamed of making it to the pros. He was always one to weather the storm.
But despite his promising talent, Johnson didn’t go to a high-profile high school that produced five-star recruits. He went to Groveton High School, a 1A division school, the smallest division in Texas. He graduated with thirty-three people in his class. The odds of making it to the pros were stacked against him, and Lane’s mind was hijacked by fear as he arrived at Kilgore Community College. It was turbulent. I felt I had a year, possibly two, to get where I was trying to be. You want to talk about the intensity? It was do or die.
Despite getting a roster spot at the University of Oklahoma, the goalposts kept moving. He changed positions from quarterback to tight end. I was discouraged for the first couple of years. My parents would come to the games, and I wasn’t playing. I couldn’t really eat. My body wasn’t able to function. But as the seasons progressed, I ended up switching [again] to defensive end. I started getting more playing time, and then, due to another player’s injury, I switched to tackle.
That’s when he started playing more, and his perseverance allowed him to become the fourth overall draft pick. Playing for Philadelphia and their notoriously outspoken fan base wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but he used it as a positive force in his life. The pressure from the city makes players hyper-focused. And it can either go one way [or the other]. It can deteriorate you, or it can build you up. And I think for me, that pressure, the internal pressure I put on myself, I feel like it made me into the player that I am.
Finding the Balance
For twelve seasons, Lane Johnson has had one of the most prolific careers in Philadelphia’s history. He’s widely regarded as the greatest right tackle of all time. On the field, he not only excels but embraces the underdog mentality—even proudly wearing a German Shepherd dog mask during the 2018 NFC Divisional round playoff game. But off the field, he waged a battle in silence, and Lane hit a breaking point.
In 2021, he needed a reset to prioritize his mental health. When you do it the manly way and tough it out, all you're doing is running away from your problems and letting your ego get in the way. I think the last thing people want to admit is I'm a shit house right now, and I need some help.
After a series of injuries, Johnson sidelined himself. Sure, he could play, but not at the capacity he was used to. As far as mobility-wise, and the run game, and having some of the power that I'm used to having? It wasn't there. And so my ankle was swelling up all the time. And I had so much anxiety because I was like, should I play? Should I go out?
To manage his anxiety, he decided to finally face his fear head-on, much like he does on the field. Only this time, instead of defending the quarterback, he had to defend himself from a mental monster.
Lane took a three-week sabbatical, leaning on his friends and teammates as he started opening up to professionals about feeling paralyzed. Through this, he learned a valuable lesson: to sit with his fear and to find a balance with his anxiety. Anxiety is optimal for performance. It primes your awareness. It primes your focus. Anxiety can be a fire, and it can take over. Or I can use it to my advantage. But I can’t let it control me.
Lane stopped allowing the fear to take over. Instead, he used it as fuel. Now, he doesn’t have to worry about the stigmas and the what-ifs. He is free.
Shelter from the Storm
Lane has become a trailblazer for mental health, using his platform to discuss anxiety and depression—often speaking at universities and youth organizations. This larger-than-life man, a pinnacle of masculinity, is now in the spotlight for something that is considered taboo in the professional sports industry despite how common it is. I learned at the combine that I think around 50% to 60% of [professional football] athletes have some sort of anxiety disorder condition.
Since becoming public with his battle, he feels the need to pay it forward, further helping others after he retires and hangs up his helmet and cleats. I think my calling is to develop high school and college athletes. Not only just the sports aspect but also getting ready for what college football and professional football are about. You want to be a [top football athlete]? Well, there's a lot more than just those snaps. It's off the field, and a lot goes into it.
Lane’s darkest hours have helped him develop a road map to help the next generation. I think just telling them my own experience, what I felt, and how I dealt with it and the available resources, just gives them a lot more insight than what I had when I was growing up.
Facing battles is ingrained in Lane’s character, a true warrior who wants to help those suffering in silence. And he’s a man of action. Johnson has partnered with the Travis Manion Foundation—a philanthropic program designed to empower families of fallen soldiers—and in 2023, he was nominated for the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year award—the most esteemed award in football for a player’s commitment to philanthropy and community impact.
Grateful for the Journey
As another day winds down in the gym, Lane looks peaceful. His gratitude for football’s contributions to the mental journey he’s faced is undeniable. Football is a game of learning how to fight and learning how to battle. It’s learning how to go practice and do stuff when you really don't want to, and when your body's breaking down. And it really, I think, helps develop strong relationships. I think our line of duty and the relationships are strong because so much is at stake,
he explains. I'm thankful for what [football] has provided, the friendships it's provided, but just really the way of life, the mentality. We have a great game plan to try to dominate the opponent each week. We should have a game plan about how we will dominate our days as a father, a husband, and all these different roles that we fill. So yeah, I'm thankful for the mental aspect of it, too.
Lane smiles at the thought—that powerful, thousand-watt smile attached to his larger-than-life physique. Now that the day's workout is over, he doesn’t have to be locked in anymore—he can rest easy. Until it all starts again tomorrow.