Re-lax

I believe I've already touched on this topic before, but I thought it was worth repeating as the season kicks in.

Every coach needs a way, or ways to unwind and relax.  If I could go back in time and teach my younger self anything, it would be that.

I had a very interesting conversation with a friend the other night about this very concept, about being able to know when it's time to say, "Enough coaching, time to do something else."  The topic came up because he is being pushed to apply for a job that he is overwhelmingly qualified for, but that would require a very significant adjustment to his current schedule.  It would also add a 90 mile round trip to his commute in order to make it work, and it would require early morning practices because his job covers the afternoon from roughly 12 pm till 8 or 9 pm depending on the daily schedule.

I count myself fortunate to have learned early on in my career that the pace can become hectic, and that if you don't have an outlet or three, it can become overwhelming, if not downright dangerous for your mental, and physical health.  That being said, I did not learn that lesson until after discovering my personal limits mentally, and physically.  I lost weight, I wasn't able to remember things, I was operating on six hours of sleep, and it reached a point where I had to stop.

What's funny to me about that stretch was remembering this article a friend of mine sent me just after I accepted the job.  I read the article several times over.  I admire Urban Meyer, and would love to meet him one day, and pick his brain, so I wrote a list of promises I would keep to my friend.

And promptly broke all of them.

So what do I do to keep things a little more loose?  What lessons did I learn during that time that have kept me from repeating those mistakes?

1.  Don't take it too seriously.  I tell the athletes all the time, "This is not life or death, and anyone who says it is, dies thousands of times over."  I borrowed that last part from Dean Smith, the excellent UNC basketball coach.  And I mean that.  No test is life or death, no race is life or death.  I shouldn't put those same expectations on myself.
2.  Keep it funny.  The fox mug.  I have little in season quirks.  I like weird shoelace colors.  I doodle on sticky pads.  And I like funny things that show personality, like my fox mug.

3.  Have an outlet.  I am very scientific when I coach.  The results need to be recorded, and the season results must be repeatable if they are going to be successful.  We don't fly by the seat of our pants, and even our, "rash and knee jerk" decisions, are ones that we've anticipated, and planned for.

My outlet is cooking.  I don't like recipes.  I don't bake.  I see cooking as free jazz, where the same dish isn't made the same way it was before.  The measurements change because I don't use measurements.  The ingredients may change.  The technique may change.  Cooking is the outlet where I can snap in my headphones, throw Netflix onto my iPad, and tune everything else out.

4.  Remember your life outside of coaching.  I am notorious for forgetting about life outside of the boathouse, and the office, and season.  Each August/September, I enter what I call, "The Deep End," and I don't come out till late May or early June.  Very little exists outside of the calendar.

I've learned to step back from that, and to build in time with friends, and have time for relationships.  It's not been easy, and I'm still working on the balancing act - very bad at checking emails, answering texts, etc. during dinners, drinks, etc. - but I've gotten better at it.  I've learned that I can leave the phone on silent, and ignore the alerts till later, and that at some point, I have to have a cut off time unless there is an emergency.
5.  Pets.  I believe pets are a great way to force yourself to think about something other than coaching.  Most coaches I know have dogs, but I've grown up with cats, so I have two grey cats I rescued as kittens.  They are playful, a bit crazy, and excellent distractions when I need it, and probably when I don't.  They lounge on a bed near my desk, or on my desk, play with cords, and sleep next to the laptop.  They rodeo around my feet chasing each other, knocking things over, and will meow nonstop if I don't pay attention to them for a few minutes here and there.  I like cats because I can leave them alone for a couple of days with clean litter, lots of water, and lots of food, and when I return they don't seem to care too much.

I think above all, regardless of what you do as a coach, you have to remember that coaching defines part of who you are, but I don't believe it should define all of who you are.  I think it's very important to remember that there was a time you weren't a coach, you were just you.  Coaching may be a calling, but it's important to recognize that life is a calling as well.