In Search Of A Coaching Philosophy

On Saturday, we Rogue coaches all attended a "coaches' school." It's where you sit in a room for 5 hours and listen to stuff about periodization, drills, etc.etc. This year, it was actually very informative. We're going to change up our drills, and I even am changing up part of our macrocycle based on stuff I learned that day.

But, afterward, I was having a beer with someone I respect very much, a fellow coach, and he told me that I "don't really have a coaching philosophy." I thought right away that he's right, because he's almost always right. But then, I thought about it some more, and I thought that he's got to be wrong. He's got to be. Or is he?

My "philosophy," for lack of a better word, has always been to have fun while you train. I always want my athletes to come away from my training programs thinking that they're better athletes, but that they had fun, too. They didn't sacrifice everything for their sport--because, let's face it--we're adults. Everyone has a family, a job, a social life, and so on.

Tonight, I had drinks with a couple of ex-athletes of mine. When I was an inexperienced coach, it used to bother me when my athletes would "leave" and go to other training groups, even if they were other Rogue groups. I took it very personally.

As time has gone on, I've gotten much better about it. I've had many successes with my athletes, and the fact that they sometimes need to move on is just a reality. People want to do Ironmans....or rock climb...or play tennis....or sometimes, they just get tired of running or even get injured.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that my athletes have won state and regional championships, competed in national and world's competitions, placed in literally dozens of age group placings in races, and garnered too many PRs to count.............but it still hurts when one of them leaves, and they all too often forget their early lessons and what they accomplished early in their athletic lives, as they go full-bent toward their new goals.

Coaching sucks, plain and simple. It is the most thankless, difficult, annoying job I think I've ever had, made all the worse because it's not even my real job. And the pay is terrible. So why do I love it so much? Why do people vie for coaching gigs and covet them, like precious jewels?

The problem with having a "coaching philosophy" is what some people I know call "FOMO." "Fear Of Missing Out." You can't actually coach someone when they're all over the map, and, here in Austin, there are so many races, so many sports, that it's difficult for athletes to settle down and just pick one. The second you think your athlete has settled on the San Antonio Marathon, suddenly, they want to rock climb or do an Ironman. Or maybe they want to swim the English Channel. Or whatever. I gave up a long time ago on trying to get athletes to focus, and, in fact, much of Rogue's philosophy is based on this! After all, even if you're a pure runner, the IBM 10k is one month into the season, followed closely by 6 other Distance Challenge events that are sure to ruin your marathon in February.

But I can't leave it there. I have a philosophy. I just don't know what it is.

If I DIDN'T have a philosophy, I wouldn't give a rat's ass that 2 of my favorite athletes just went to another training group. I wouldn't be excited about this coming fall and winter. I wouldn't be neglecting my real job, the job that puts food on the table for my infant son and wife, so that I could write 4 separate macrocycles for the people training in this group.

No, I have a philosophy. It just isn't the one that people WANT me to have. It isn't the one that other coaches have. It isn't "normal." I'm not going to baby you. I'm not going to coddle you. I am results-oriented, and, happy hours or no happy hours, at the end of the day, the only thing that counts is whether you PR'd or not. I might not be out there shouting "rah rah, look at what a good runner little Jimmy is," or giving you free water bottles. But understand that I WILL be looking at your finishing time. And if it reads one second slower than what we wanted, I will be disappointed.

So what does all of this mean? I don't know. I don't even know if that's a philosophy. It sure doesn't sound much like Joe Friel or Jack Daniels.

For now, let's just say my philosophy is "Don't let Kipp the Evil Clown Come Get You."

Okay. That works for me.