Be thankful

I have a shelf at home that's covered in rowing memorabilia, though not of the typical sort.  I have two oar blades painted for Pacific Rowing Club, and the University of Puget Sound, I've got two broken center pins - one from Willamette, one from LOCR - a broken skeg from LOCR, a couple of unusable spacers, and a few other items.  Next to those are three shadow boxes, one with medals and shirts, one from Pacific with a shirt from Youth Nationals, and one that holds a bunch of coaching items - first parking pass, boat numbers, my first US Rowing card, etc.  Under the shelf are two plastic boxes.  One has all my coaching gear from programs I worked at, and the other holds all the shirts I got while I was at Willamette - not tanks, but team shirts.  These are my favorite things that I've collected while coaching.  

On a separate bookshelf, being used as a bookend, is my NCAA trophy, still in its box.  It hasn't been opened since 2008, and has never been on display.  In fact, if you walked into the room, you'd never know it was there because it's usually covered in bills, my car keys, wallet, mail, etc.  

So what's all this about?

It's about being thankful.  Last night in a fit of boredom, I cleaned down my rowing shelf, and then decided to open the trophy box to make sure it wasn't dusty.  As I was cleaning it, I remembered back to my first year at Willamette, coxing the men's novice 8.  It's enough to say that we had a fantastic year, won a lot of medals, but it was the least enjoyable year I've experienced in sports.  I had more fun on my winless baseball team in first grade than I did that year.  

Why is that?  It's because I got too caught up in the moment of what we were doing.  We were winning, and each successive win caused me to place more pressure on myself.  I never enjoyed a win because I was always looking ahead to the next race, the next practice where we could iron out any problems we'd had.  It reached a point where I nearly shut down at conference.  I ended up hiding next to our truck, surrounded by the team bags.  What if we lost?  What happens if something goes wrong?  Why did we have to launch so late in the day - I never enjoyed racing late - etc, etc, etc.  Winning wasn't even joyous, it was simply a release.  

I realized last night as I was cleaning, that it's time for me to start enjoying what I've done.  I enjoy what I do.  I love being a coach, but I've never enjoyed winning.  I've never appreciated the work put in because I'm always looking at what I didn't do well, and how I plan on improving either the next race or the next season.  Looking at that NCAA trophy, realizing that it has been 5 years since I held it before putting it away - it still had the gift we were given, something I thought I'd lost - and that as much as I enjoyed that year, I didn't enjoy the final fruits of the process. 

There's something to be said for not wanting to get caught up in what you've done.  There's something to be said for not wanting to settle, and keeping your eyes forward, not backward.  But there's also something to be said for enjoying what you've worked hard to do, and enjoying the results of the training plans, practices, etc.  

There's something to be said for recognizing the hard work each season requires, and for taking time to appreciate that you've earned something many teams strive to achieve each year.  It's not about basking in glory; it's about truly enjoying the moment, and being thankful for how things played out during the season in question.