Putting 2022 In The Rear View

Last year about this time, I had written nine of my End of Year letters, and sent three. The other six still sit in a box on my desk. I was distraught with the loss of a career, close friends, and the prospect of finding a new job looked terribly grim. If you've ever played on one of my teams, you know the roller coaster analogy. This drop seemed like it would never end, until March when I interviewed and was hired for my current job. I had to rediscover my identity. I had to unlearn a lot of behaviors, and I had to figure out a way to get the roller coaster uphill so I could get to the fun part of the ride. Here's a run down on how that went.

I made new friends. If you know me well, you know I don't make friends everywhere I go. I'm not one for small talk. There are several things that I can talk about at length with anyone that is willing to listen: reading, teaching, learning, and volleyball. My other hobbies aren't really conversation worthy unless we are doing them together, and mostly it's just me doing the thing poorly but still enjoying the company like golf or pickleball. It's my clumsiness around people and things that makes for a good story, but I digress. 

So it took about a year, but I did it. I have introduced one friend to volleyball. So much volleyball that she kindly repeats some of my favorite coaching cues (we're early) when she spots it. I have to say, it was really fun to connect with another person and not talk about work all the time, but instead reflect on our own relationships with other people. When I was going to the therapist on a regular basis, this was my single most gratifying kind of conversation. Because if you haven't figured it out yet, I really don't understand my own relationships with other people. I rely heavily on my friends for that feedback.

I made time for myself. In this recovery year, I made time to take a break from job hunting and go for walks to explore the neighborhood. These walks saved my sanity and ultimately kept me motivated when I felt like nobody wanted to hire some grumpy nerd lady to fix things or coach volleyball. Once I got a job, I scheduled and continue to schedule regular massages. I have started lifting again and doing my mobility work on a regular basis. 

For a while, my knees just really hated me. I listened and started small with the bands, and now throw in a kettlebell workout once a week, and my knees do feel much better. With all of this new found free-time, I have gotten into the habit of cycling to run small errands, and eventually when I get stronger will cycle to work more frequently after the winter. In my meditations, I found myself calmer more often than not and realized I had been in fight mode for most of 2021 and that carried into 2022 until I gave myself the space to take my time and just be.

What I discovered over the summer is that I've been a part of chaotic and destructive cycle. I don't have to live that way anymore. I know who I am and what I am. My identity isn't tied so tightly to my job anymore. I can be myself and it isn't a novelty. I can unlearn a lot of work habits that were useful to me previously without sacrificing my values. I gifted myself good friends, good food, and good scenery. It's been a long time since I've been able to be so generous to myself and others at the same time. This is the me that I like best. The one that sends the letters that she writes. Anyway, I think the roller coaster is getting good again, looking forward to the loops, twists, and turns. 

Why the extra -er?

I'm funny that way. If you recall, a tinker is someone that fixes things in an unskilled or uninformed way.  I add the extra -er because my tinkering is quite deliberate. I like to take objects, ideas, and systems apart and reassemble them to make them more efficient or find out how they work, or in some cases don't work. Sometimes I pronounce or spell words incorrectly on purpose. Tinkerer is one of those gags I borrowed from an old SNL skit with Chris Farley when he used to talk about "living in his van down by the river". It's sort of funny that I do fix things for a living and for fun, but I am one of the clumsiest people I know. The reason I'm good at fixing stuff, is because I break a lot of stuff. Ask anyone that knows me. If you want a really good story you can ask about the time I spilled a beer on someone's love interest because the tables were at an awkward height and I just didn't know what to do with my arms.

What I Miss Most

Here's something I started in April, but didn't finish until today.

Spring season the time when nature and fall sports teams renew, grow, and when needed, correct themselves. This the time in the gym I miss the most. It's when the student-athletes put in a tremendous amount of effort to change patterns. It's difficult because some of the gains are not tangible and often unrealized until next fall. I miss the "a-ha" moments and the satisfaction of connecting with a student that may have been skeptical or confused. There's an intense feeling of accomplishment when one student makes a conscious effort to make better choices on and off the court. So when you get the whole team to buy in, well you can imagine the exhilaration that comes with it. That's a high that balances the worst days in the gym and on the road. ---

I did not participate in summer camp season. For twenty-something years, my summers have been spent traveling to work volleyball camps (for the extra cash, an edge in recruiting, and to network). I must say my wallet, and my body are content with it. My knees got to experience a lot more bicycle trips and hikes this summer and we are happier for it. I did miss the kids joking about my terrible name recall or the fact that they are taller than me. The most enjoyable part of camp is the last day. They say goodbye to their new friends, show their parents what they learned, and thank us for teaching them stuff they didn't even know they didn't know.

Now it's fall again, I've missed preseason, and the first week jitters. I miss hearing about dorm life adjustments from college first years, and the plans of too soon to be departing seniors. I'm not sure if missing the enjoyable parts of my former life as a coach ever ends as grieving is a process, but my new job is slowly capturing my heart and bringing me a lot of unexpected joy. I have new tasks ahead of me to build a positive technology support culture and teach 5th and 6th graders what there is to love about volleyball. While my colleagues are much more in tune with the rhythm of middle school life and helping me adjust, I am slowly but surely getting on beat. My goal this school year isn't to stop missing volleyball but to share the things I enjoy most about it, maybe incorporate the best pieces along the way, and yes to learn everybody's names.

Big Deep Breath

Staring at the drafts here that I may not finish. I'm okay with it. Some of you may know that I moved to Seattle, WA to take an assistant coaching position because it was the right time for me to move on. I was looking forward to coaching in a different division, league, and geographic region. I was optimistic that I could impart my knowledge and experience to assist this new team in their quest for an improved athletic experience.

Someday, I'll tell you about the events that preceded my firing the week before Thanksgiving. I'm sure I can carve out some time to write about the struggles the student-athletes and staff experienced in great detail, but for now, just this: I'm at peace with my decisions. Knowing the outcome of my actions, I would make the same decisions again. I did my job to protect the integrity of our sport, the welfare of the student-athletes and my colleagues. Even though I was fired, I left on my own terms. I spoke my truth and stood up for those that feared retribution. 

I took some time to feel my feelings and sort through them. With help from my people, I'm able to say that if this is how my career ends I'm proud of it. I've had the privilege to work with amazing student-athletes and coaches. Some of them have moved on from volleyball, and I guess it's my turn now. I promised the student-athletes in my farewell note that I'd be alright after this ordeal and I am. One of the first lessons we learn as teammates is that failure is about getting back up. Sometimes when you get back up it isn't to return to the spot where you fell from, but to get an opportunity to attack from another angle.