encouragement

Who Are You?

/ Jillcoach / 1 Comment

Don’t let other people answer that question for you.

I was a really curious and enthusiastic little kid. One of the very few TV shows I was allowed to watch was Star Trek. I looooooooved Star Trek and decided at age 4 that William Shatner was my boyfriend. (Side note: when I got a chance to meet him at age 50, I told him that, and he was wonderfully and perfectly sketchy and flirtatious about it.)

I also have the moon landing as one of my earliest memories, so it is no surprise that I ended up wanting to be an astronaut. Because of Star Trek and the women I saw there, it never crossed my mind that girls couldn’t do that, so that was my dream. I would become a pilot then get a job at NASA being an astronaut, and go into space and maybe the moon. It was a want and certainty as deep and vibrant as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I had that absolute confidence that comes with being pre-pubescent and not having much experience with the crappiness of the world yet. Or frankly, the crappiness of people who should love you the most.

I was about 11 years old, in the car with my mom, and she asked, “So what do you want to be when you grow up?” It seemed like such a normal question at the time, but looking back I wonder how she didn’t already know. I made no secret of it. I wonder now if she didn’t ask just so she could say the NEXT thing: “An astronaut? You’re not good enough at math to do that!” It was so dismissive, so unfeeling, it felt like she had slapped me. At the time, I was in advanced classes for both language and math, and was at least a year ahead of most of my peers in both. I didn’t have a great algebra teacher, and was struggling a little with concepts, but I was still AHEAD of where I should have been. But I was 11 years old, and this was my mom, so “I’m not good at math” became a part of my story about myself, and I gave up on the idea of being an astronaut. I still wanted to, but that want had become a faded watercolor, a wish for the impossible.

Fast forward 5 years: I’m a junior in high school, starting to think about what was next, and considering the Air Force academy. I still wanted to be a pilot, you see, and maybe maybe that would teach me something I could do at NASA, even if I couldn’t be an astronaut because “I’m not good at math”. My swim coach who I’d been with for all those years asked me what I was thinking about, and I told him…and his response was to laugh and say, “The Air Force Academy? You’ll never make it! You don’t like being told what to do!” Again, I felt slapped. Another trusted adult, another evaluation of WHO I AM that was different than what I thought I was. But I was 16, and this was my coach, so “I don’t like being told what to do” became part of my story about myself, and I gave up on the idea of being a pilot.

Both of those interactions were pivotal moments in my life, and represent one of the few things I have regrets about: allowing other people’s opinions of who I am become who I accepted myself to be. I let other people define me for a LONG time, not trusting what I knew about myself but swallowing their off-hand remarks or criticisms as truth. I was in my 40’s before it struck me what I had done, and it was while I was juggling 4 jobs to keep things together after my divorce, that I said, “Wait a damn minute! I’m not LAZY like my family told me! What else were they wrong about?!”

The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. The very people who should have been supportive and encouraging were the source of my greatest angst and insecurity. What I finally realized is that everyone is going to have some kind of opinion about me, about who I am, based on their own baggage, perceptions, and insecurities, and that it is up to me to accept or reject it. Some people (like my coach) will do it thoughtlessly, like a joke, not understanding that it can take root in someone’s heart because they trust you. Some people (like my parents) think that saying negative things to you will motivate you to do better in order to prove them wrong. Some people (like my mom in particular) do it to manipulate your behavior into something that makes them feel more comfortable. Some people do it to bring you down, or because you don’t fit in a box they understand, or because they can only feel big if they make someone else feel small.

At the end of the day, you don’t have to understand their motivation. All you need to do is quickly weigh it against your own heart, “Does that feel right? Does that fit who I know myself to be?”, and if not, yeet that judgment into the universe and move on.

The other thing I learned and really want you to hear is to be suspicious of someone telling you who someone else is, especially if what they’re saying upsets you. (for example: “Democrats just want open borders” or “that kid is just saying he’s trans to win at sports”, etc) In this situation, their motivation DOES matter. Ask yourself why is this person telling me this? Do they have an axe to grind? Are they seeking attention/clicks? What do they get out of upsetting me? Do I have direct personal experience that supports or refutes this? Do they say nice things about other people or groups, or are they consistently negative? Why should I believe it? Why do I WANT to believe it?

Most of the time, people are absolutely full of shit about other people’s characters and motivation; we all judge each other through our own lens—”if I acted like that, it would be because I intended _____, or because I felt like ________, or because I wanted ______”. None of that tells you what is in someone else’s heart.

The bottom line is that I can’t control what other people think of me or others, but I absolutely can gatekeep what I choose to internalize. I don’t have to let their garbage attitudes direct the course of my life or my dreams and aspirations. I don’t have to fall for the clickbait. I don’t have to trust someone else’s analysis of a third party. And I absolutely do NOT have to allow other people to define who I am or what I “should” be.

I realized recently that my mom probably killed my astronaut dream out of fear that I actually could end up doing something so dangerous. Her choice to hurt me probably came from wanting to make herself feel better. It tracks with all the rest of her parenting. It was not in my personality, especially at that age, to push back with the single-minded “I’ll show you!”. My response for decades was to feel bad about myself and nurse hurt feelings. I don’t recommend this approach.

Walls Redux

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

Revisiting and updating…seemed timely

The wall is a physical barrier that must be dealt with in our sport, but it is also a mental/emotional one.

It is in our nature to slow at a wall, to look up at it, to ponder how to get past it. Our tendency is to assume our path continues on past the wall, following the track we have been on, and that the wall stands in our way. In swim training, we must overcome this mindset:  our path does not continue on, but resumes in another direction. The wall becomes a chance to speed up, to readjust, to jump off and speed away on our new path. The wall is not obstacle, but opportunity.

My other experience with walls is The Wall exercise in team building. After working through a series of smaller challenges with a group where you have (hopefully) ironed out differences, insecurities, communication issues, and trust, you are faced with a final challenge. A huge and intimidating wall that the whole team has to get over. There are no handholds or ways to boost yourself, and it is too tall for even your tallest group member to jump to catch the edge. You MUST work together, using the gifts and talents of the group, to find a way over. It is one of the most initially disheartening things to face, and it is easy to fall into “this is impossible”.

I don’t know how others have experienced this, but our group struggled a bit at first. Several people (myself included) balked because of physical limitations like weight or bad back. Some people balked out of fear, or body image issues, or lack of confidence in their physical abilities. I say we struggled “a bit”, but the truth is that we hemmed and hawed and bickered for probably 15 minutes before we made any attempts to get over. FINALLY, a woman who had been a gymnast as a kid and was all of 5 feet tall, told a couple of the guys to give her a boost. Even pushing her as high as they could, she could only get hands to the top of the wall…but then, using her knowledge of gymnastics and flexibility, she tossed one leg straight up and hooked her foot on the top of the wall and pulled herself over. (To this day, it is one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen someone do.)

Once that happened, we were re-energized. Seeing it was believing it, and working together we got everyone over that wall…boosting from the bottom, reaching from the top to catch hands and help pull, shouting encouragement. When the last person came over, we were EUPHORIC. We all felt the lesson in our bones: we had accomplished something that seemed impossible because we worked together. None of us, no matter how talented or accomplished or naturally gifted, could have gotten over that wall alone; success was only possible as a team.

So how does all this philosophical rambling about walls matter in broader context? In preparation for writing this, I looked up the definition for the word wall, and was interested to find this:  an extreme or desperate position or a state of defeat, failure, or ruin. Those of us who supported a different vision of America’s future than the one we’re facing are feeling this deeply right now. We hung our hopes on joy and progress only to run face first into the wall of other people’s fear, prejudice, and apathy. What now, what next? This wall looms over us, and I now stand in front of it, feeling a bit desperate. I cannot see past it to where we go from here.

We can take lessons from both swimming and team building. We can speed toward this wall, and see it for the opportunity it is. We can have the confidence to race at this wall, lower our heads, hold our breath, flip and jump as hard as we can in our new direction. We can remember that we are not alone in this endeavor, and that our way to deal with the wall is in community. Our “team” can succeed where we as individuals will struggle. Our path is on a different course, one that we cannot yet see, but it will be there, and this wall that seems so daunting is our best chance at finding it. The alternative is letting the wall stop us, leaving us stuck in a place we don’t want to be and weren’t trying to get to. Screw that—let’s push off this wall together and see where our new direction takes us.

A Season of Patience

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
(New Living Translation)

We all had plans. Plans to work, plans to play, plans to compete, plans to move. All of that has been interrupted and our lives are on hold for a situation unlike anything we’ve faced before. Are we overreacting? Not reacting enough? Only time will tell.

One of the news stories today is about the postponement of the Olympic games, and my thoughts have been drawn again and again to the swimmers who have been preparing for years. When I heard earlier this week that our local pools were closing, even to the swim teams, postponing the Olympic games was one of my first thoughts. I don’t know other sports, but in our sport, to deny athletes training time in the last few months prior to Trials and the Games is to derail everything they’ve worked for. But there are downsides to a postponement, too…some of those who are ready this year may not be ready next year. Life could intervene for them and they could end up not making the team in 2021 when they might have this year. There is a price to pay either way. It’s a “no win” situation.

There’s been a lot of talk of the economy and costs of closing businesses and shuttering public gatherings. There is a huge cost to these decisions, but again, there is a price to pay either way. The decision makers for the most part are taking into account what the worst case scenario could look like if we do nothing; we thumb our noses at them at our own risk. We don’t know what the right decision will have been until we have the benefit of hindsight, and maybe not even then. For some Olympic athletes and some regular citizens, there is no clear choice. Some will be hurt either way. It’s a “no win” situation.

We are in a season of patience, where we need to wait. Just wait. And wait some more. And try to find the patience to wait it out, find the strength to come out the other side, find the charity to help those who struggle.

For everything there is a season. This is our season of patience.

Fondly,

Coach Jill

In This Moment

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

When you’re facing a three hour long practice, or a long race, or the beginning of a grueling season, looking forward can be daunting. Trying to consider all of the possibilities, work to be done, and “what if”s can quickly short circuit your emotional reserve.

I have a series of photos, taken by a team mom, that show me waiting alongside a nervous 7-year-old in the lineup behind the starting blocks for her race. She had worked herself into a frenzy at idea of standing there waiting by herself, worrying over the race, how she would do, what it would feel like. I stayed with her and did my best to keep her just in the moment, talking, joking around, showing her she could talk to the other girls to pass the time.

When the things to worry about get too big or too challenging, the trick I learned (during my divorce) is to shrink things down into manageable bites. That old saying “take it a day at a time” is very true, but sometimes even a day is too big of a bite. Sometimes the mantra is “take it an hour at a time” or even just “this moment”.

It is a meditative practice to be in the moment; to realize the past is locked and the future is fantasy, that the only reality is in this moment. It is the only thing you have control over, this moment and what you do with it.

So breathe, and check in with yourself. In this moment, am I OK?  In this moment, do I have a home, a job, food in the fridge? In this moment, are the people I love OK? If you have challenges in this moment, what can you do in this moment to deal with those? Try to let go of the need to look out weeks and months, and churn over what might be, what the worst could look like, and how life might be different. Do your best to make THIS moment good and peaceful, and when the moment comes that there is a challenge to deal with, your soul will be ready.

Right now, most of us are waiting in that line behind the blocks, scared at all that we have stirred up in our heads. It is not our turn to face the challenge. We can be in this moment of waiting without being scared, we can lean on each other, we can find ways to laugh.

In THIS moment, we can be OK.

Fondly,

Coach Jill

You Are Not Alone

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

Individual sports (track, gymnastics, swimming, etc) offer an interesting experience for the participant. You train with a team, your efforts may support your team in term of points earned, but the competition itself can be a lonely affair. You stand alone, waiting for the signal to begin. The weight and pressure of the moment is borne alone, and as the crowd is silenced in preparation for the start, that moment can feel overwhelming. This is when the bonds of team are crucial. This is when you must remember, you are NOT alone.

At a time when things are difficult and frightening, isolating from friends can get overwhelming quickly. It is easy to focus on what is different, what is wrong, what is missing, and go down the rabbit hole, alone with the awfulness in your head. Catch yourself, and turn to your team. You are NOT intruding by reaching out, your friends are in this too. Reach out, check in, send a funny GIF, or even better, call and talk. Hear each others’ voices. Laugh. Write an actual letter and send it via snail mail!

Never forget, you have a team. There are more people than you realize rooting for you, praying for you, and wishing you well. You are NOT alone on that starting block; this is merely a temporary isolation. Look to your (metaphorical) left and right, and see your friends. Look around a little farther and see your wider team, your coaches, your parents, grandparents, and their friends. See your community. We are all invested in YOU, just as you are invested in us.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE. As always, I am here if you need me.

Fondly,

Coach Jill

My Team

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

When I was still coaching, it was vitally important with every season, every group, to create a sense of common purpose, common discipline and common goals. That is the essence of “team”–working together to overcome challenges and achieve results. Sometimes sharing a common pain (like 5am practices) is enough to bond a team together. This, folks, is our time. Our team.

We are a team. You, me, my children, your children, the person that cuts your hair, the person that packed the Amazon box sitting on your porch, the lady in China that stitched the socks you’re wearing. A team. My team. Your team. Our human team. In times like these, times that pull the rug out from under “normal”, we all feel the fear in our throats, that clenching uncertainty with every closure and new announcement. What will come next?

As adults, that fear is an awful and unwelcome companion. We have forgotten our child selves, who lived regularly with uncertainty and fear. It is the fear of the young swimmer, standing on the blocks, exposed and cold, wondering what the next moments will bring. It is the fear of “Can I do this?”, “Will I measure up?”, and “What am I made of?” We adults avoid making ourselves vulnerable like that, so when it is thrust upon us, we panic, and build ourselves a fort of TP and hand sanitizer and hot dog buns, as though the things we own will allay the fear.

I cannot make your fear go away, but I can tell you this:  you have it in you to deal with this situation, weird and unexpected as it is. You are made of all the things you always were, all the unique and beautiful things that make you YOU, and you have strengths in there that will bring you and your family through this. You do not need to worry about measuring up; coping is not a competition, and how YOU process stress and challenges will not be what your neighbor does, and that’s OK.

I will encourage you throughout to be a person you will be proud of when this is all behind us; let it bring forth the best of who you are deep down. Do your best to uplift the people in your life. Enjoy the small things, hug your family, feel the love.

And if you need some cheering on, reach out to me. After all, you’re on my team!

Fondly,

Coach Jill

The “C” Word is Can’t

/ Jillcoach / Leave a comment

i can't

I routinely ban the use of the phrase “I can’t” on the teams I coach, and instead try to teach positive self-talk, and learning different ways to express the challenges we face.

Can’t. It is one of the most self-defeating words in the language. Not only does it mean falling short of what one is trying to do, it also implies that one will not continue in the attempt. In my coaching career, “can’t” was not the wording used when someone was truly physically incapable of continuing…athletes have a whole different set of expressions when they are in that place. “I can’t” was what was used when what was really meant was “I give up”.

“I can’t” is the pressure release valve, it is the jargon to let ourselves off the hook and make the unpleasantness go away. “I can’t” is not a real state of being, but rather an attitude, and often an attitude about ourselves.

Things I hear when I hear “I can’t”:

  • I quit
  • I don’t want to
  • I don’t know how
  • I’m afraid
  • Don’t make me continue
  • I don’t believe in myself
  • I’m giving up on myself
  • Save me

We have to be careful, both about using the phrase ourselves and about how we respond when others use it. When a toddler learning to tie shoes gives up in frustration and says “I can’t!”, does the parent just do it for him? Or respond with “Let’s try again”? When an athlete backs away from a challenging training set, saying “I can’t”, does the coach take the easy route, shrug it off and turn attention to others? Or respond with a push of encouragement to keep trying?

We need to learn to hear what “I can’t” truly means. We need to hear the fear and insecurity behind that phrase, whether it is coming from ourselves or others. We need to respond with an acknowledgment of the difficulty AND a pep talk to move through it. “I can’t” needs to be transformed into “I’ll try.”

“I’ll try” does not guarantee immediate success in the endeavor, but does indicate a major change in attitude. “I’ll try” is positive, encouraging, and implies an ongoing willingness to accept and face challenges. “I’ll try” combats insecurity with small doses of confidence, and fear with the hope that at the end of the “try”, the challenge will be overcome.