Wellness

Competitive Wellness Series - Introduction

When we consider top-tier athletes, at any tier, there is always something that separates them from the rest of the field. To varying degrees at different levels of competition, there is some combination of physical prowess, skill and abilities, strategy, mental toughness, and competitive edge that create advantages. Some of these are naturally occurring, some are external gifts, and some are internal specialties. I’m sure at some point there will be developed an algorithm that calculates the potential achievement of an individual athlete within a variety of situations that may be used to help them decide where to “take their talents” in order to maximize them, or how to spend their time training. 

Though the science of sport is already being applied at greater detail and with increasing frequency to even younger athletes, the most obscure and evasive weapon to train will always remain the same: the mind. 

(Luckily for all of us, training the mind, and its connection to our bodies, will benefit us well beyond sport and our days of athletic competition, but we’ll just stick to that application of it in this post). 

There’s a lot of frustration in sport and competition, and learning to embrace that will create some of the best athletes. But one of the most frustrating entities in sport, both in the present and retrospectively, is the skilled athlete without the competitive mind. I would know, I was one of those cases. A plague then and a blessing now it has led to training, research, and application to help others avoid this feeling - not only in sport, but in life as well. 

This series of posts will discuss common mental obstacles, address physical manifestations, and suggest self-guided exercises to help develop the weapon of the mind for your competitive arsenal. 

Summers “Off”

As teachers, we catch a lot of flack for “having summers off” from those 9-5, 360ish-a-year-ers. Sure, enjoy the ribbing and your 12-month salary, (not just a 10-month salary stretched over 12 months), but at the root of this “advantage” we have is a necessity to perform at our highest level: the ability to step away and improve ourselves. 

It is easy for any of us to get stuck in certain “grooves” of life; we fall into the routines that guide us through our day with as little active-thought as possible. We enter “survival mode” for a great percentage of our year while underneath it all, beyond the ease and convenience, we suffer both personally and professionally. This is as applicable to teachers as it is to bankers, doctors, or politicians - we become comforted by the routine thoughts and emotions that carry us to the point in our day when we can release ourselves to something much more enjoyable, but equally routine. 

As a teacher, one is relied upon to the n-th degree, to the n-th times during each and every day. This isn’t service to other adults who are within their own grooves, simply looking to maintain the survival-until-enjoyment of their own lives, but service to children who, hopefully, have not yet acquired that draining and simplistic way of life. Our job, as teachers, beyond and despite the red-tape and testing requirements and proof-of-academic-progress, is to help children understand a control in their own lives that leads to constant enjoyment, achievement, and peace. Ask any GOOD teacher you know and they will admit that it’s beyond 8-4, it’s beyond 180, it’s beyond summers off. 

I have told my students on a number of occasions of the nightmares that I have had of them the night before. It is never a nightmare of their momentary action, it is never a nightmare of me losing control in the classroom, but it is a nightmare of me losing it on them. I am not a “yeller”, I do well not raising my voice, so THIS is my nightmare - my reaching a point where I have lost control of myself in my professional environment. I would be lying if I said it didn’t happen, but, I have strategies to make sure my losing control doesn’t mean directing my frustrations at the children. 

These moments as a teacher are the result of becoming stuck in that survival groove. These moments are running the same path over and over until you wear the path down so much it builds walls around you. These moments are living off of expectations for a general populace and understanding that it may not be applicable to your students but continuing to hold them to that expectation.

“Why aren’t they the way I want them to be?! Why aren’t they the way I NEED them to be?!”

Herein lies the problem. It shouldn’t be about where we, as teachers, want and need them to be. It should be about helping them understand where they are, and where they are going, and how to get there, (or, where they are, where they are going, and how NOT to get there while making corrections in order to go another direction). 

(“Well what right of it is yours to decide if the direction they want to go is the wrong one?” Did 10 year-old you make the best decisions? Did wanting a pet dinosaur end up happening? They’re children, it’s our job, our sensitive, important, and influential job, to know the appropriate balance of leading and guiding, relax). 

So what does this have to do with having summers off? As humans, we have a tendency to engage in survival mode...and this is potentially harmful and damaging to children. If I am in survival mode with Weirdly-spelled-first-name-with-a-rouge-x Johnson, then I am not giving him or her what he or she needs from his or her teacher. I have developed a mental and emotional expectation of my engagement with this child which is completely unfair. What great things might I be missing from this student because I am caught up in my own prejudice toward my own well-being? Sorry, my own PERCEIVED well-being. For in my ability to let go of those expectations, those struggles, and those “disappointments”, I am myself growing and providing for my environment a stronger, stabler, more peaceful me. This is the example we should be setting for the students in our classroom and this, realistically, requires a bit of a break from them. 

Granted, I teach within the Montessori philosophy and I typically have children for a three-year cycle. This interaction with students may be different for teachers in a traditional setting who only have students for one year, but that creates a whole different set of dynamics. Granted, as a teacher, I’m starting to fall more in love with the thought of year-round school for the benefit of the younger students, (at least through 6th grade). Changing the structure of education begins with changing the structure of the teachers, of the guides, of the administration. Yes there is red tape, yes there is governmental requirement, yes there are a million excuses as to why one couldn’t, can’t, won’t, shouldn’t,  and YES there is an attraction of falling into the path of least resistance, the survival groove, but there is nothing stopping each and every teacher from ascending to a higher sense of self that allows them to act above the routine while with students, and strive to bring back that reverence that was once shown to educators. 

Do we really need summers off? If they are being used correctly to recharge the self, tie up loose ends, re-energize before heading into a new year, and unlearn some of those bad, adult habits that we carry with us, then absolutely. 

1 vs. 16 - a competitor's soul completed

Basketball has been a passion of mine since I was 8 years old. There was then obviously no other outlet for such a passion as great and powerful as the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament. Setting the VCR to record the day's worth of games, (and trying to remember to set the recording the night before for the next day), became a ritual. There were a few recording mishaps that resulted in painfully taping over some of the best games. Over the years, I effectively wore out my VHS tape that included the Gonzaga vs. Florida "the slipper still fits" game, which still gives me chills to this day. 

The passion never dwindled. I made a collage that measured 6' by 5'. Since becoming a coach and educator, I have shared this passion with many students and athletes. Now, March means a pilgrimage to Las Vegas to watch the games with those who share my affinity for the greatest spectacle in all of sports. 

I, as many, have always favored the underdog. A Gonzaga fan at the beginning of their national relevance, I developed a love for the lower-seed as well as an appreciation when the lower-seed upset my teams. Between Gonzaga and Michigan State, I've experienced my fair share of these upsets. Such is life. 

To say I didn't have fantasies about playing on a 16 seed in my younger days would be a lie. Once I came to the realization I was no where near playing basketball at the next level, the fantasies shifted to being the coach of a 16 seed that was the first to upset a 1. This was the pinnacle of over-achievement and earning respect through performance. 

It's not something I had really thought about intensely as my career as a Montessori teacher took off and coaching high school basketball became my deepest involvement. I still get giddy before the Selection Show and I still take in every moment I can of the tournament, but I knew that being a part of the NCAA Tournament was not something in my immediate or near-future. I love my work and I love the impact I have on children, so I have no regrets about this. But as I sat, watching the 16-seeded UMBC Retrievers dismantle the number 1 overall seed Virginia, every emotion I have ever had tied into college basketball came rushing back. Every second of appreciation for a team coming together, maximizing its skills, and achieving the impossible...or what once was...was frozen into a collective moment where the only time that existed was the clock ticking closer and closer to history. 

At halftime, there was intrigue but doubt. As the second-half began with UMBC establishing the "we're not going anywhere" realization into their opponent, I began to settle into a stunned observation. Even at a sports bar in Vegas, everything faded. Closer and closer to the final buzzer, it became more and more real. With about 3 minutes left in the game, a few tears officially broke through my attempt at decorum. By the time the game was over, I was composed and joined what was nothing short of a respectful, tempered, standing ovation. Hundreds of miles away, with no physical involvement in the game, but connected across space and time with every fan of college basketball, of basketball, of sports, of competition, of LIFE, the "impossible" became not so. 

Kids...18-22 year olds...captured the sports world. Their coach...not once lacking the composure and professionalism of a true leader...embodied a humbleness that seemed beyond possibility. In his eyes, the eyes of a man whose world had just been flipped upside-down by all his hard work, and trust, and faith, there seemed disbelief yet a spiritual respect for the undeserved place in history he could not have dreamed of. Or maybe he did. Maybe it was a dream of his. Maybe he knew all along. My guess is he won't even know this for a few months. 

There is no way that any game will match what we all witnessed. As a teacher, I did what I could to try to impart that upon a young student who shows a passion that reminded me of what I felt as a child. There's no way I was effective. It's too big. I'm glad that it happened when I was grown up. The appreciation is unmeasurable. 

Thank you sports. Thank you basketball. Thank you UMBC. I feel whole.