I'M NOT EVERYTHING I COULD BE, BUT...

I certainly entered a hard conversation with myself recently when I forced myself to honestly evaluate my meaningful effort as a coach—not just the work-hard-look-busy effort, but the intentional, athlete-changing effort.

As the start of another track season is on the horizon, I question whether I’ve done enough to prepare my athletes for what they will face over the next few months. As their coach, have I aimed for excellence in myself so that it transfers to my team? Can I honestly say I’ve anchored to my be-better-every-day goal and the idea that intentional, persistent, and sometimes uncomfortable steps rightly chisel a person?

In 35 seasons of coaching cross country and track, I’ve encouraged my athletes to “get uncomfortable” HUNDREDS of times. It’s easy to spot when an athlete chooses to settle: a hesitation instead of acceleration; a glance to the side to check the competition rather than eyes focused on the finish line; an excuse made even before an attempt taken.

When fear wins, I’ve tried to be the diligent coach and seize the “coaching opportunity” to offer a challenge for the next time insecurity or complacency rears its head--face adversity, bust its lip, dig deep, be your best! After all, aren’t those the life lessons I so proudly declare that I cultivate in my athletes?

The phrases I’ve used are many but the message the same: “Right now you’re not everything you could be, but…”

As a coach, I’ve considered it my purpose to hold my athletes accountable to prepare them for life after track; I’ve pushed and invested to refine them to introduce them to their greatness.

But who or what holds me accountable? The point count at the end of a meet? Performances bested…or not? Technique executed? Professional critique? Who is really expecting excellence of me? What are my priorities, and in deciding that…of what must I let go?

I certainly entered a hard conversation with myself recently when I forced myself to honestly evaluate my meaningful effort as a coach—not just the work-hard-look-busy effort, but the intentional, athlete-changing effort.

The conversation was pierced with questions that were not fun for me to answer.

When have I truly claimed FULL responsibility for the final outcome? Took total responsibility for the dropped stick, the scratched attempt, or the improper race execution and improved MY practice to impact theirs? When did I last challenge the “way we’ve always done things?” Dissected my knowledge and re-wrote the script? Evaluated my priorities to avoid not ineffectively spreading myself thin over a variety of “have-to’s,” just to end up being mediocre at them all?

When was the last time I embraced the self-reflecting message I send my athletes? “Right now, I’m not everything I could be, but…”

As coaches, let’s seek our own discomfort. Risk being a fool to grow, to be something new. Sometimes we may end up the fool, but just imagine the possibilities when, instead of just printing out last year’s practice plan, we actually think about what we’ve learned in 365 days and push the comfortably predictable boundary.

I’ll let you in on a little something…my practice plan from Jan. 27, 2019 has been in the trash for about thirty seconds. Even had to take it off my clipboard where it was ready for this Monday’s practice to toss it. Here’s to risking discomfort and admitting there just might be a better way!