I remember one of my college practices and having to run sprints for one of my jack wagon teammates who overslept and skipped class. Naturally competitive, I wanted to win each sprint...so I’m killing myself trying to come in first while the perpetrator is barely making time. 8 or so lengths in, the dude stops touching the line and we get nailed with another set. Now I’m pissed...and dead tired...I don’t have time for this. This isn’t my fault...not my problem. But we keep running. My guy stops caring altogether and misses the line on purpose, basically walking his way back to the baseline. Seriously, I hate this guy... And...Here comes coach. I’ve seen this before. This is it. We. are. screwed. Hands on our knees and eyes on the perpetrator, Coach stops everything. He gets in his face; and what he said sticks with me, especially today. “You quit on your kid!” Now I’m out of breath—and...confused...? He wasn’t—at least to my knowledge—a father at that point, so we are all dumbfounded and thinking our coach had lost another screw in his rage for this guys act of defiance. “It’s 3am and your wife has been puking for 2 days. All you hear is your kid screaming from the crib and you’ve got to work in 2 hours, you don’t have time for this!! He needs changed; he needs a bottle; she can’t help anymore and here you are with your pillow over your ears because you’re tired! I get it! You don’t want to wake up! You don’t want to go to class! You don’t want to touch that line! You don’t want to run any farther! So you quit!! It was hard. It wasn’t your fault. It’s not fun anymore. This isn’t what you signed up for. Whatever. I get it.” Coach paused for an uncomfortable amount of time...we are all processing this newly realized analogy. “You’ll quit! You’ll quit on your kid! You’ll quit on your wife. You’ll give up. ...So just quit on them now; don’t even make it to 3am. Just quit now. It’ll be easier! Face them. Your future kid—Face him!! Look him in the eye and tell him you can’t run anymore... Then leave my gym.” Dang. I don’t remember if he left the gym or if we ran more or if practice continued or what. All I know is I got goosebumps after I connected the dots and in my mind I never stopped running. I never felt tired in the same way EVER again. Fast forward 10 Years or more... I get to tell you this story, celebrating a year of “running.” -One year ago we were spending several nights in the NICU with my youngest son. -One year ago we watched him take off in a helicopter without being able to ride along. -One year ago, we got goosebumps again and stayed up all night... But we are still running! My youngest son turned ONE today. And here is what I DO remember. The lessons never stop. The plan is never finished. You can call “timeout” but you certainly can’t quit. I didn’t sign up for ALL of this. I didn’t plan for ALL of this. I fully blame my wife as this was certainly not ALL my fault. But I wouldn’t have wanted to miss ANY of it. So I will run. And I will win. To my athletes ready to give up; to anybody who’s thinking about resigning; and to my parents who stayed up all night, remember this: ”The days are long, but the years are short.” Don’t quit on your kid! And tell my man: Happy Birthday Finster!!
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DJ JohnstonDaddy. Leader. Visionary. Archives
March 2020
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