This morning, as on many mornings, I’m expending more brain power than I would like on soccer. Agreeing to be the head coach of a travel team involves a level of volunteer commitment that at times verges on the ridiculous. Leave aside the fundraising, the scheduling of practices, the budgeting, the banking, the forms that require more forms, the deadlines, the meetings, the mandatory training, the communication with parents, and you still haven’t touched on the most important part of the job: the actual coaching. Planning and running practices, trying to elevate and understand each child’s strengths and weaknesses, keeping the training fun but intense, setting up and following an overarching plan for the season. My brain is full of exercises, drills, games, goals, skills. My brain is not used to being used for this purpose!
I was wondering why I don’t take photos anymore. I love taking photos. I thought it was because my photo computer conked out, but Kevin fixed that problem: he loaded software onto a different computer, to which I have easy access. Yesterday, while trying to complete an online evaluation in order to get an official number in order to fill out more forms in order to request permission in order to register our team for festivals, all of which required contacting half a dozen different people at different organizations, I thought: oh, this is what I’m doing instead of taking photos.
This is my new hobby.
Maybe it gets easier. Maybe I should be delegating even more responsibility (and I am thankful for the helpful parent volunteers on this team). But I’ll tell you what. The next time you’re standing on the sidelines questioning your kid’s coach’s strategy, complaining about everything the coach isn’t noticing, check yourself, please. I promise to do the same. The coach may indeed be noticing what you’re noticing. Even if he or she isn’t noticing it, he or she is noticing a million other things that you’re not aware of. The game is the least of it. Really, the game should be the fun part, the peak, the celebration, the reward, win or lose. If you feel like complaining, think of everything that stands behind the game, all of the invisible effort and thought and care …
This is an excellent learning experience, that’s all I can say.
Enough soccer for now. Above, that’s the cover of Girl Runner as it will appear in Turkey.
I spent all day Saturday and all day Sunday at a high school in Hamilton at a soccer coaching clinic. It was not what I’d expected, which is to say, it was really fun! I’d steeled myself for a must-do task, and instead spent half the time playing. A major component of the clinic was to design and lead practice sessions, which meant those of us not leading the session got to be participants, which meant — playing soccer, playing games related to soccer, practicing skills, etc. All classes should be like this.
The clinic’s focus was “games-based learning.” I’m a big proponent of keeping things fun for the kids, and the clinic gave me more tools for organizing and running practices based around play. Which is what soccer is: just a great big game. I came out of the clinic feeling affirmed in my philosophical approach, but also having a better understanding of how to apply my ideas. In a strange way, coaching is like writing a novel: keep it simple! Work with a few broad themes over a season. Develop on themes in practices, building on the work that’s come before. Repetition is fine, but be creative, rework how it’s being presented, or layer on challenges and complexity — that’s what makes it interesting, for both the coaches and the players. Finally, build every practice around a theme, no matter how small, (i.e. improving foot skills), and keep that practice flowing from beginning to end.
How? By keeping it simple. Rules are simple. Instructions are simple. Start with a bare-bones structure and add on layers as needed. Modify on the fly. Recognize when your plan isn’t working and be flexible and humble enough to know that it’s your job to fix it — not the kids’.
I’m organized and like planning ahead, and I’m creative, flexible, and enjoy the challenge of improvising in the flow. Those are my coaching strengths. My coaching weaknesses include less of an intrinsic understanding of the game, which I’ve essentially learned as an adult and only minimally as a participant; I lack some technical and mechanical knowledge. (That’s where Kevin comes in! Plus he loves discussing all of this stuff, so it’s a happy point of connection for us.) My other weakness, I think, is that I can be too flexible and get caught up in the moment, allowing an activity to go in a different direction than I’d originally intended, even losing track of what my original direction was. I need to be more disciplined and clear with my own goals each and every practice.
Which reminds me. I was planning to tell you about my whole weekend, not just the soccer coaching clinic, but here we are. I’m out of time. I hope you had some time to play this weekend too!
Where I’m at, in fifteen minutes or less.
Office, desk, laptop. Dog sleeping pressed up against my right foot. Peppermint tea at my elbow instead of coffee; liking it better this week than last.
Went for a short run this morning. Enjoyed the lightening sky and the birds. Stretched on the front steps.
Kundalini yoga during meditation.
I keep setting timers to keep myself on track. A timer for the run, timer for the yoga, timer for this post.
Writing, writing, writing. That is almost all I’m doing with my days.
In Girl Runner news, tonight I’ll be in Brampton at the library, reading and speaking. Check my events page for more info.
In soccer news: Tomorrow evening, I’ll be at a four-hour coaching course, which ironically means that I have to miss coaching the U16 Boys in a playoff games. On the weekend, I’m spending Saturday and Sunday in Hamilton to complete another coaching course. Last night, I completed an online course, mandatory for coaching certification. So, yes, it’s quite a commitment, let’s be frank. Every time I start feeling weary, I think, I’m doing this for my kid. And that gets me back on track.
In other Girl Runner news, that’s the Italian cover!
Time’s up. Happy Monday!
I love that my birthday falls so close to the end of the year; it’s the perfect time for reflection. Last night I wrote by hand in my journal, as I’ve done for many years now, on the night before my birthday. This is just one of a few simple rituals that make each birthday feel special, squeezed as it is between Christmas and New Year’s. For example, this morning started with a hot yoga class; something I’ve been doing on my birthday since 2009, when I first tried out a hot yoga class. That first yoga class was a treat and an adventure, to try something new, and to steal time for myself. I couldn’t have guessed how it would change me. I was hooked — not necessarily hooked on hot yoga, although that has served me well over the years, but hooked on moving my body, becoming present in my body through physical challenge. I’m now entering my seventh years of serious and regular physical practice: running, walking the dogs, cycling, spin class, weight training, boot camp, kundalini yoga, hot yoga, swimming, soccer, dancing, cross-country skiing.
In 2011, I focused on competition and races.
In 2012, I first learned how to work through injury.
Also in 2012, I joined a women’s soccer team and became a teammate. I hadn’t participated in team sports since I’d last played soccer at age 11. I had a fun season that summer, but we moved to the country and I didn’t play soccer again. Later, I would have said definitively that team sports was not for me; was it trauma and shame from having been, often, picked last in gym class, a lingering sense of not belonging, not knowing how to belong? We moved often when I was a child. I was often the new kid and new kids who are shy are picked last in gym class. But that wasn’t my interpretation at the time; instead, I thought I was bad at team sports. If you’d known me as a teen, you would never have thought, oh yes, Carrie will make a good coach someday. Belonging to a team as an adult changed me, and it has changed my outlook on team sports. Seeing my kids belong to teams, even during times when they’ve struggled, has given me insight into the potential of being part of something bigger than oneself.
Also, it’s just plain fun. Have I mentioned that part?
Today, I turn 41 years old. This is middle age, if you’re honest about average human lifespans. Today, I don’t mind being older. I’m grateful for a body that is able to move and stretch and participate. I do not take it for granted. Much brings me joy in this rich and textured time of life. Connection to my children. Soaking up time together as a family. The adventure of writing. Opportunities to be a mentor, to teach, to coach. Sharing and receiving the ongoing story of our daily lives with friends, with siblings. Getting to hug my mom, and my dad and stepmother. Reading wonderful books. I’m humbled by the luxuries of my life. If there’s one thing I want for the year ahead it is to seek out, look for, and recognize opportunities to serve, to offer what’s mine to give, and also to share. To share a sense of adventure. To have fun. To play. May none of us ever be too old for that.
Holidays. We’re screaming toward them at breakneck speed and despite there being no snow yet this December, Christmas is coming. Christmas will come. I’ve ordered a turkey.
Accomplishments in recent days include: remembering to order a turkey; not forgetting to go to CJ’s open house at school; not forgetting to pick up AppleApple from yoga; and sorting through our mail pile (overflowing the ample basket in which we toss everything), and my kitchen pile (papers that are too important to recycle, but not important enough to tend to or file immediately). I also created a brand new file folder into which I put random professional items that need attention…eventually). I’m calling this my “Friday morning to do” folder.
It’s Friday morning. I didn’t do any of what’s in there.
Just saying. But at least I got the damn piles sorted.
I also finished marking and submitted my grades. Bittersweet, but there it is. Done with teaching, for now.
I’ve already found a replacement for my teaching energies (unpaid, however; if it’s unpaid, I will excel at it). A week ago, I was given the head coach job of my daughter’s U11 rep soccer “development” team (they don’t call it a “C” or “B” team, but that’s what it is). It’s her first time playing rep soccer, and it’s my first time coaching on the rep side. And I’m going to need a special folder to keep that part of life organized. Or a time slot. How to partition off the various sections of my life, so I can stay focused on whatever I’m focused on? I’d like to complete a few things, in addition to rolling along in the usual way, immersed in all tasks that have no end.
More meditation? Problem with meditation right now is that I drift off; meditation becomes nap time. Not kidding.
I’ve also been helping, to a small degree, to find and prepare housing for the refugee family our neighbourhood association has sponsored. But this morning, I’m not at the new apartment with some of the others from our group, who are cleaning and sorting and sewing; this morning, I’m cleaning and sorting at home, and then I’m going to spend a few hours with friends before racing off to complete a rather daunting list that must be done before our first Christmas begins: around 3PM this afternoon, with the arrival of Kevin’s family.
Why am I blogging?
Because in all of this remembering to do things, and creating lists, and flurry of emails and information and errands and doing and hopping out of bed and going to bed too late, I haven’t been chronicling. Maybe that’s okay; I don’t need to press publish on every last thing that happens. But I do need to write. I need to write.