Thursday, September 1, 2016

Breaking the Silence

In the past I had a lot to say about my racing. Until this season I typically offered up detailed reports of almost every race I entered. But this year has been different; it's been a season where the highs have been few in number and the lows have been deep. Somewhere along the way I lost my voice. I stopped knowing what to say. Nothing about the good times seemed entertaining so I wasn't compelled to write. And every time I found words to describe those lows they were overly critical and not productive (and often contained a fair amount of profanity).  The result - silence.

It took a conversation with one of the athletes I coach to make more realize my words could have meaning, not in spite of, but because of my struggles. My athletes either start as friends or quickly become friends. I tend to coach people for a long time and we form significant bonds. In this case that caused my athlete - my friend - to say, "If I am about to cross a line, just say so. That being said... I wonder what the right way for me to respond to you when it's clear you're upset with yourself for your performance in a race. I don't know how to show that I am supportive, when I can't really understand what you're experiencing." She went on to say that she didn't want to offer empty words of encouragement, but our goals were so different in the sport that she didn't know what else she could offer me. This is an incredibly caring and intelligent person (a PhD and professor, actually). She's compassionate, well-spoken, and genuine in everything she does. We, of course, have funny and light conversations often - daily, even. But when she asks questions, and she knows how to do that (maybe it comes with being a professor!), I listen. She forces me to put thought and care into the responses I provide. This case was no exception.

As I warned this person, my response was sure to be lengthy and rambling. I didn't disappoint. Rather than just post the thing in its entirety here I'll narrate that response with the original appearing in italics and my commentary appearing in normal text. Please don't expect me to actually answer her questions directly! As I said, her questions just make me think and important stuff happens to come out as a result. It's amazing what a professor - in the field of education - can make you do... 

Thank you for checking in - I do appreciate that. Lines often get blurred between friends, coaches, athletes, etc so I get that it can be a tricky topic! I actually don't mind that. Some coaches do and keep people at an arms length, but I like that I become good friends with you guys. It's what I like most about coaching, actually. But race results can be a tricky topic for me as well. I know what I'd say to you or any other athlete I coach if you were in my position. And I know what I'd say/want to say as your friend. But sometimes advice that's easy for me to give is tough for me to receive. 

As I said, I form friendships with my athletes. There are times when it can be difficult to know exactly what falls under the coach-athlete relationship and what constitutes a conversation between friends. But strong relationships between people, in my opinion, leads to a higher level of trust and success in all realms. My coach-athlete relationships are not simple business relationships. They go far beyond that and we share an investment in each other. 


No, it is not your job to break down a race, provide feedback, or tell me to shut up! But I sincerely appreciate that you are supportive and care how things go on my end (as an athlete). I do recognize and value the fact that I have a huge support network. 

I can't overstate how meaningful this network of support is to me. I'm incredibly fortunate to be surrounded in all aspects of my life by people who care for and support me. It is not lost on me that from my wife and son to my parents, from my athletes to my friends both in and out of the sport, and from my fellow PBM coaches to my incredible sponsors, I have a tremendous amount of supportive people backing me. 


I'm also sensitive to the fact that I probably come off as very whiny and overly critical of myself. When I post or talk about a race - whether it want well or not - I do actually give some thought along the lines of "is this for public consumption or should you just keep it to yourself". At the end of that process I almost always continue on writing or discussing how I feel. I try to be authentic. Some coaches - and other athletes who compete at my level - would advise against that because it's not necessarily good PR. They'd argue that you want to highlight yourself as this super successful machine who just churns out great race results. They'd say that people will want to hire you if they constantly see you achieving your every dream. Maybe that's true of some athletes, but I don't see it in that light. I find myself to be a better coach, athlete, and friend if I'm open and honest about my performances - good and not as good. I'm not of the opinion that highly successful athletes make the best coaches. I think good coaches are good coaches for reasons that are almost entirely separate from what makes someone a good athlete. I've always felt strongly that I can relate to athlete's struggles because I've been through them. Maybe we finish with different times and in different places in the standings, but I get what it's like to be frustrated and upset. It happens. It's not about placement. It never has been and never will be. It's about knowing yourself, knowing what you're capable of, and evaluating how closely your performances match your potential. Not acknowledging that sometimes you come up short and care deeply about it is, for me, misleading. Everyone has their struggles and I like for people to know that I have them too. Again, the intent of my self-criticisms is not to complain or gain some sort of sympathy, it's just sort of wearing my heart on my sleeve. I put a lot into this sport - into everything I do, really - and it all means a lot to me. I want people to know that and I want them to see that it comes with ups and downs.

There's a lot in there to digest, but most of it speaks for itself so I'll refrain from regurgitating all of it - or maybe I won't. This is something I have thought deeply about for years so we'll see where this goes....

 I always struggle with what to say about my training and racing. As stated in that paragraph from my email, I care deeply about what I do. I invest valuable time and energy that could otherwise be spent elsewhere on this enterprise. Rightly or wrongly, it's no longer something I do in isolation; it's become an important part of me. While I can, of course, compartmentalize and return to normal life after a high or low moment in sport I do value openness and honesty in all aspects of my life. I do have a large support network and I like to be truthful about my ups and downs. Failing to recognize that is misleading and not helpful - not to me and not to others who might potentially benefit from connecting to something I went through. 

While I have numerous roles in life - husband, father, son, brother, coach, athlete, friend, co-worker, and so on - I do my best to carry the same values into each relationship. Above all, I'm open and honest. I believe deeply in the value of communicating my thoughts in a respectful and meaningful manner. That's an easy task when things are going smoothly and I'm maximizing my potential. When things are more bumpy than smooth, however, finding the line between openness and coming across as overly critical (or potentially whiny) is not such an easy job. The venue of social media - the environment where much of this "communication" takes place - only complicates things. I often pause before posting my thoughts, even though they are honest. I write, edit and rewrite numerous times. I wonder how I'll be perceived. I want to know if what I have to say is at all useful to anyone other than me. I ask myself if that last bit matters, eventually deciding that the exercise of communicating my thoughts has value to me as I process my emotions and that, in itself, gives it value.


Ultimately, I'm not trying to hide anything from anyone - myself included. I want people to see me succeed, but I also want them to know that there are an equal number of times where I do not. Whether my audience is family, friends,  current or future athletes is irrelevant to me. I'm not a robot and that's a good thing in every relationship I maintain. I put thought and care into my reflections. Sometimes that process results in highly positive and inspirational messages. Other times the outcome is darker and more bleak. To me it's less about the feeling and more about the way in which we deal with and grow from it moving forward. 


For the people I coach - or for people who are considering hiring me as a coach - I want them to know that it's okay for things to turn out less than perfectly all the time. It's okay to be frustrated. It's fine to struggle. What's not okay is to carry on as if everything is great when it isn't. You can't grow from that position. If you do that I think you ultimately settle and there's nothing worse than settling. Sure, I get disappointed with myself sometimes but I'd rather push my limits and sometimes fall short then set the bar low and act as though I'm constantly setting the world on fire with my performances. I feel the same way as a coach and expect the same things of myself there. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes and I hate it even more in that setting because any shortfall on my end impacts someone else directly. But I'd rather make an error than just provide a mediocre service and stunt the growth of my athletes. The same goes for me as an athlete. I could do the safe thing every day, failing to ever challenge myself. That's not what I'm about, though. I don't improve that way and I'm in this game - like I am in everything - to see just what I can do. 

I've never liked to settle. Settling is boring. I know where my comfort zone is. I know what  can safely do and it's not that interesting. I want to see how far beyond that I can go. But that's a risky proposition and one full of potential breakdowns. I feel the same way when I coach and only select athletes who are willing to follow me down this path. Not every day is picture-perfect, but the end result is always progress. Along the way there are difficulties and frustrations. This path - the one to a fully realized potential - is not easily traversed. It's unfinished, incomplete. There are bridges that need building. There are obstacles that need navigating. And just when you're not sure you can go on you get a glimpse of what's around the corner and go a bit further. In the end it isn't so important that you arrive at the finish - which is really nonexistent. The fact that you started and didn't turn back along the way is where the value exists.

Now, moving to the end of my response (which came after a lengthy discussion of the specifics of my race and some connections to our shared profession - teaching).

To your initial question, I'm not a huge fan of "hey, great job!" as a response when I'm not feeling great about something - especially after I stated that things were not good! I've always felt that way and had MANY disagreements with my parents (and coaches/friends/Eileen/everyone else in my life) growing up over that very issue. I have always maintained that people mean well when saying such things - and often do it because they don't know what else to say. But I've also always said that it's not helpful because it fails to acknowledge my feelings. I deal with my students and athletes in the same way. I might think a B or a certain race result is right in line with what they earned/deserved/are capable of. However, if they're upset about it then it's important that I acknowledge that in my response. Just telling the student or athlete "good work. you'll do better next time" doesn't do that. Some response that gets at the source of the frustration (or other comparable emotion) is more appropriate.

Hang around me long enough and you'll get to see the paragraph above play out in real life. I do not like being told good job when, if fact, the job was a poorly executed. I believe strongly that people's emotions matter and the best responses acknowledge their feelings. Ignoring this implies that there is no value to what the person is feeling when those emotions are already trending negative. The outcome, of course, is to feel worse. Not only do they feel badly about whatever went wrong initially, but they now feel unvalidated. Acknowledging emotions is a powerful thing in coaching, teaching and friendship. Feelings are complicated and difficult things that can lead to growth or destruction. To encourage the former I find it critical to validate emotions. Doing so shows people that it's okay to feel and care. It empowers them to take charge and work toward understanding themselves more completely. This, to me, is the foundation for growth. It's the first step toward building for the future. Failing to help someone through this process by not acknowledging that it's okay to feel emotions is detrimental to the trajectory of their long-term growth. Over time people will begin to repress those feelings and miss the opportunity to learn from the situations that brought them on initially. As uncomfortable as someone else's emotions are for you to see, they're even more powerful and impactful to that person. Let them know that it's okay to struggle, to feel. 

With all of that out I'll soon write more specifically about my year of training and racing. I've reflected a great deal on everything that's transpired this year and I'm ready to discuss it openly and honestly. 


If you've made it this far, thank you! I appreciate the fact that anyone is interested in reading what I have to write and only hope it can serve you in some aspect of your life. 

1 comment:

  1. Your article is true for life, not just your racing. As I was reading it all I could think about was my teaching. Thanks for sharing this. I may find myself rereading it often for strength and support.

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