Anxiety in the Hard

Winter. 

A time to hibernate. Stay quiet and recharge our batteries preparing for the year. 

And yet, here I sit, in anxiety as I anticipate the heavy lacrosse training lineup I’ve created this winter. Uncharged. A busy, busy, busy schedule staring me down like a lion stalking its prey.  

I feel like I might be more nervous than the kids attending the sessions. And I want to shine a light on that. For insight. Perspective. 

I guarantee I will get things wrong over the course of the next 6 weeks coaching over 60 hours with more than 50 kids.

Yes, I have experience to lean on but every kid is different and, if I’m being really introspective, I believe I’m a little different myself every time these kids work with me.  

My goal? To connect with every player I work with this winter.

Once connection is made, we can start trusting.

And when we trust, we will try hard things. Fail. Learn. Grow. Repeat. That’s the goal.  

My hope? To get each player a little more confident in their craft leaving my sessions. That they want to come back to try again week after week. Curiously anticipating what more they can learn and try and do.   

My fear? That none of it will happen. That I won’t connect. I won’t help. Reputation smeared. People laughing, fingers pointing, saying "See? I knew she didn't know what she was doing." Confirming the ever looping narrative that I am not good enough. My inner critic is a peach.

Have you ever heard of Theodore Roosevelt’s “The Man in the Arena”?  It’s something I’ve come to lean on in times like this. Kind of like my anthem. I’m going to leave it here in the hopes that you too can lean on it in your hard times. As athletes. Coaches. Parents.   

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” —Theodore Roosevelt
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910  

It’s hard being the one IN the arena. The one DOING the hard. Being judged. You know what helps prepare us for this hard? Anxiety. 

So as I sit here thinking about tonight’s session and feel anxiety rolling around my insides like electricity in a lightning storm, I’m thanking my body. Thanking her for doing her job in preparing me for the arena. 

No one wants to hear this next part & I hate to say it but…you know what helps with the anxiety? Actually doing the thing. Darn it. I hate that part. But it’s true. I can guarantee you the anxiety I feel today will be completely gone tonight after I’ve completed my trainings. And the feeling? Will be replaced with pride. And confidence. And hope. And I will bring that into the next session and be stronger because of it.  

I won't be perfect. But armed with both grace and kindness towards myself & others in the hard & my anthem running on repeat, I will tiptoe forward with my uncharged battery, vulnerable & hopeful heart in hand, anxiety buzzing, knowing that in this season? When I fail? I will do so while daring greatly. And my hope? Is that a few others join me.

In Your Corner,

Nikki