I have a coach that helps me navigate the training regime for all of these crazy endurance events I find myself drawn to. Once I commit we sit down and he tries to talk some sense into me. He starts by telling me I am not crazy and that anything is possible as long as the motivation is grounded and the expectations are realistic. Then he reminds me I am not alone and helps me figure out how to get to the starting line. After our initial sit down, he tends to throttle back letting me find my own way. The process works for me. When our paths cross, which they do often, he checks in with a simple, “how’s the body?” Or, more importantly, “how’s the mind?”
The other day we were sitting outside, catching up and shooting the shit, and I could tell something was off. He asked the questions but was clearly distracted. He was struggling some: not fully present. So we turned the tables. “How’s coaching?” I asked. He rambled a bit about clients and schedule and this and that. No connection though, more or less going through the motions.
I tried again, “And how’s your dad?” He choked up and took a deep breath. “Got lost again the other day…” And then, with a big sigh, he let go for a few minutes and did a data dump on all of the logistics running around his brain: money and finances, proximity, housing, outside help, siblings, medical issues. The stuff that is keeping him up at night: the stuff he now owns.
Then, after a while, when he took a breath, stopped and sat back with his thoughts all out in the open, floating around us, just sort of lingering, I asked, “And how are you?”
He sat looking helpless, eyes darting about looking for answers but there was nothing to fall back on. All he manage was a quick, sharp breath and then he said in almost a whisper, “It’s hard…I am losing him.”
Turn the tables.
Onward->
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