As I have chased my two careers in the past decade, things have slowly picked up and I've found a little bit of success in each path. I've always loved challenges and each of the things I've chosen to do has forced me to constantly find creative solutions to problems. They've also taught me that no matter how much time, preparation, dedication, and desire you put into something, sometimes things just don't work out.
I am now able to coach high school water polo year round. I get to work with great student athletes and push their abilities and personal fortitudes to their greatest potential. Like with art, I put in everything I've got trying to motivate not only the kids, but myself as a coach and role model. How do I want these kids to grow up? What type of men and characteristics am I imparting on these teenagers on the precipice of adulthood? I am able to share formative years with these boys and to show them things that you can't really learn in a class room.
There are very selfish aspects to coaching. I feel like it keeps me young, fit, and hip to young people slang. It's a job that lets me release adrenaline, testosterone, and my deep need for competition, which I used to relinquish in other, more destructive manners. But with all forms of competition, it isn't always just wins and sunshine and rainbows. With every season, I have a pretty good idea of the potential of the team and have to tweak the team's playbook and training methods dependent on the athletes skill and ability levels. I spend endless hours preseason setting up tournaments, games, plays, and practices schedules. I prep and prep and prep prior to the season, in hopes of the maximum outcome to the season's schedule.
I love what I do. The pay certainly doesn't match up to my dedication at the moment, but that's how love and passion work. I've given up bachelor parties, weekend getaways, girlfriends, and countless weekends to coach tournaments. I've sacrificed so much for this sport in the hopes that I'm somewhat making a difference in a kid's life.
It's been a very hard season. As much as I prepared, practiced, and trained with the athletes, it's been a very disappointing run. The first year I coached we were winless in league. This year, after a 10 year career, we have again gone winless in league. There were several factors which affected the team, but nothing I can put the blame on but myself. It's been such a bad season that I've actually considered my coaching career, maybe it's me that has lost touch.
Along with the health scare, it's really forced me to reevaluate the choices I've made personally and career wise. Sometimes love is not enough. Passion is not enough. It's the same thing with relationships and with women. Experiencing loss is something that everyone has to deal with. The difference I've found is how an individual deals with it. I don't think of myself as a quitter and sometimes the gods just aren't with you despite how much preparation and dedication you've put into anything. That's just life.
As the art career as taken off, the coaching and health have taken a slide. You just can't win everything and it's taken a long time to understand and come to terms with that. At some points I've wanted to scream and explode and unleash all the fury that lies just bubbling beneath the surface. I've wanted to just be destructive again and go back to the anger that I've been so comfortable with for so much of my young adulthood. It would be so easy just to let everything slide. But what type of man would I be? What type of man do I still want to become given a limited amount of time?
I've finally learned that my time is precious and limited. The people and friends I surround myself with has only expanded as I know that keeping an open mind and open heart is what gives my life meaning and fulfillment. I want to keep learning. I want to keep experiencing. I want to know that I can keep staying the course despite hardships. Sometimes failure and loss and disappointment are just a part of life, but maybe sometimes you have just got to walk away from things. Like a punched out boxer that just doesn't know when to walk away from the sport, I'm at a cross road.
For the next few days, I'll be going into the woods and going off the grid. I feel like I've been going and going and sometimes I've given so much to everything else that I've really let my personal life go. Maybe I'll just never come back. Maybe I've been blinded by my need for success. Maybe I'll never come back. Only time will tell.
