I wrote the following about 4 months ago but I didn’t hit “Publish” for some reason. My work situation has changed since then and I don’t get to work with this group of skaters any more. The lessons however have stuck.
I have fallen in love again – Rachel need not be jealous or concerned
for it is not romantic love or the feelings of love that I create as a
muse for writing. I’ve fallen in love with coaching high level athletes
since I was tasked with looking after the strength and conditioning
needs of a group of figure skaters in March.
Initially I wasn’t sure what to expect. As an athlete, I was never
very good; I was the middle of the pack and was happy with any finish in
the top half and ecstatic with the one or two finishes in the top
quarter. I trained hard to make up for a lack of talent and as anyone
who doesn’t have the correct fiber typing and didn’t do the correct type
of training at key periods in their development knows, hard work is a
very poor substitute for talent. I probably came within a couple of
places of my potential, which might have been in the top 15 -20%. Before
I began working with the figure skaters I felt that I was probably as
athletic as most of them – given that I am about twice their age and
likely stronger than all of them. It turns out, my belief was not rooted
in reality. Figure skaters are athletes in many ways that I would never
have considered.
My understanding of them changed very quickly one day in late March
when we were able to go outside for the first time. The snow had melted
enough to allow for them to run laps outside of the building. Being who
they are (young, bright and looking for any way to make their workout
easier) all but one of them decided to cut their lap short and come in
the back door, walk back to the workout room and pretend to be winded.
Initially I thought they had run really quickly, but there was something
strange about the way they looked – their faces weren’t red, they
finished together in spite of their differing running abilities and the
guy who I thought would be the fastest was the last one back and he
didn’t finish with the group. Once I figured out what had happened, they
were assigned more weights instead of running. The guy who ran the lap
was the only one I let run it again and given that I wanted to make sure
he ran hard, I ran with him. I embarrassed myself trying to keep up. It
was close for the first 100 meters, but he was pacing himself. I
started to surge and catch up with him, but he looked back and
accelerated. He finished about 20 or 30 yards in front of me and a lot
less winded that I was. I said “do you feel good about yourself beating
an old man?” He laughed with me as I called it a workout. This was the
sign of things to come.
As the weather got nicer, we were able to spend more time outside sprinting. One of the things that struck me was just how quick most of them can run. Technically, their running isn’t that smooth – all of them would benefit from ironing out some of their arm movements and relaxing when they run, but boy can they accelerate and their top speed is something to be envied. They are on track to run as fast as any of the football players I have trained who are the same age in spite of the fact that they do not train to be quick runners. This was the most remarkable thing to me, they don’t work on starts, accelerations or top speed tempo work – they jump and spin and dance with quick feet on the ice; football players train their starts for the 40 in combines. The speed of the figure skaters is remarkable when compared to those athletes who are actually trying to get faster.I look after 3 groups which are determined based on their skill level. The elites are the top group followed by the senior A and then the senior B. The elites tend to be older and all of them have been skating for a very long time – some started when they were 2 and are now 18. The B’s tend to be younger (ranging from 8 to 14) and the A’s are a range of ages from 12-17. I’m not certain what the criteria is for moving up in groups, but it has something to do with the type of Axel they are able to do – I think a B becomes an A once they can consistently land a double.
I look after 3 groups which are determined based on their skill level. The elites are the top group followed by the senior A and then the senior B. The elites tend to be older and all of them have been skating for a very long time – some started when they were 2 and are now 18. The B’s tend to be younger (ranging from 8 to 14) and the A’s are a range of ages from 12-17. I’m not certain what the criteria is for moving up in groups, but it has something to do with the type of Axel they are able to do – I think a B becomes an A once they can consistently land a double.
I’m not sure if I am coaching any future Olympians but I wouldn’t be
surprised if I was. The drive of some of these athletes is remarkable. I
have little doubt that the drive comes from the fact that they started
when they were young and didn’t realize that they could give less than
100%. A few of the younger elite group will cut corners and complain
about the work I assign, but when they come to work, they work
intensely. They work like they are trying to make up for a lack of
talent and in that way, they remind me of myself.
The toughest part about working with them is that they do so much
skating. They are on the ice at least 2 hours a day and it’s closer to 5
hours a day during the summer. This makes it challenging to train them
not because they are tired, but because some of their eating habits are
abysmal. I can related to this because when one is completely engaged in
their passion, eating falls by the wayside, but their performance
suffers because of it. The first version of food journals I collect from
them looked like something a middle aged lawyer would have submitted –
one or two meals a day of fast food, less than the minimum amount of
protein, too much refined sugar and not a mention to any vegetables.
When asked about it they all said basically the same things “we don’t
have time to eat”. I got the evil eye from a few of them when I said “if
you don’t have the time to eat, you don’t have the time to be the
best”.
I feel for them because they know they should be spending more time
and energy on nutrition, but they’re also told that they need to spend
more time on skating, and school, and ballet, and a multitude of other
things that conventional wisdom dictates will make them better
performers. Regardless of their conflicting agendas, only a quarter of
them are at or close to the right body composition to excel. My desire
to be a better coach means I’m offering them parts of my lunch,
commending them on their positive nutritional changes and praising them
for making the tough decisions to skip the burger and fries and
suffering through another salad of mixed greens, ground flex seed and
chicken breast.
The strangest thing about working with them, and it’s only something
that I noticed after reading Speed Trap again, is that I am forming
unique and purposeful relationships with them. Some of the athletes
really like me – they know I care about them as people and as well as
athletes and skaters. I talk to them like adults regardless of their age
and I try to explain my rational for choosing the exercises and program
they are following. To others, I am just another coach who is trying to
get them to do things that they wouldn’t spontaneously do. There is
rarely a battle of wills because I’ll be very blunt with them and let
them know that I do not suffer when they do not work, they suffer and in
particular, their on-ice performance this season will suffer if they
don’t try.