Feedback, Continued

Someone suggested last week (through the survey/grapevine) I needed to be less ego-driven and more nurturing, less short-tempered. It was a response I kind of shrugged off; consider the source as someone who didn't want to hear me tell them what I felt they needed to do (one of those things a coach - and a person who is in charge - does).
I did get a little reinforcement of the perception the other afternoon: One of my athletes tries to come out once a week and works hard when at the track. They mentioned I got a little cranky during a workout the previous week. Of course, I was surprised at the honesty in bringing the issue to my attention. I quickly explained myself and told them I would make an honest effort to not be so short-tempered.
It was easy to figure out the root cause of the cranky moods. When I'm trying to run my own workout and organize/supervise...or, better yet, coach other runners at the same time I can get a little short, sweet and to the point. When you're training, it's all about me is the mantra; how much sleep do I need to recover, how much time do I need to set aside for this long run, this cross-training, this therapeutic modality (massage and stretching for those of you who hate those fancy words), and so on. It makes spouses, employers, and family members lose their even keel...especially when they are the ones who always have to adjust their (overcommitted) schedules to fit those of the runner.
In performance improvement, we are often told to ask the why question four or five times in order to get down to the real root cause of the problem.
Problem: Coach Mike is cranky.
Why is Mike cranky? Because he feels his workouts (at the same time as his athletes) are interrupted to deal with stuff.
Why are Mike's workouts interrupted? Because Mike is running his at the same time as his athletes.
Why is Mike running at the same time? Because Mike has a work project that keeps him from running earlier in the afternoon. Mike also has an athlete who runs workouts by himself and needs to control his pace a little better.
So, one issue meets one root cause, or two. Coach Mike's real job (which cannot be changed all that much) compresses his schedule. Coach Mike has an athlete who is running faster than he needs to be at this time of the year. Normally, I wouldn't gripe too much, save for the painfully obvious fact running hard during the heat of the Florida summer is going to do a number on your body. I could let this athlete drive himself into the ground, or I could suggest from the sidelines that he back off. When recommending an easing back on the throttle, I get the I only went (blank) seconds faster on this 400 than the last one response. Of course, then I have to mention another painfully obvious fact; multiply those (blank) seconds on that 400 by four and figure the difference per mile. Bouncing around with (blank x four)-second variations per mile of running is not the way to become a good runner.
I tend to set high (and often, unrealistically high) expectations for myself. I have always done this, not to mention projecting those high expectations onto those around me. In educational theory, it's a well-proven fact teachers who set and communicate high expectations for their students find the students will meet those expectations more often than not. So, while it may seem to the outsider I do not care to the persons who don't want to vault over the bar I set, the exact opposite is true. I care a great deal about every athlete who expresses the desire to improve and makes the honest, consistent and continuous effort to improve.
It's all I can ask from any athlete. It's all I'm entitled to ask from any athlete.

You Can't Sugar-Coat Bad News

This e-mail arrived in my account this morning as I was settling in to figure out a collection plan for a project I'm starting. I guess you could say we saw the handwriting on the wall about a month ago, but there were still some (irrational?) hopes for a rescue on the part of a resource sponsor with large pockets (and perhaps the ability to tolerate a top-heavy organization).

Hello Everyone, As I head out...this morning, this is a particularly difficult email for me to draft; I am just not certain where to begin....Just last month I was made aware...had been cut from...budget schedule. Soon after, I heard there was the potential to disestablish...entirely in FY09. Since that time, I have been seeking other options (and funding sources....Despite the...support from many of our customers, I was informed this week that all funds..., starting in FY09 have been zeroed out....This means as of 01 Oct 08, ...will be gone. As most of you know, we have a good number of influential supporters, and several have been speaking up on our behalf, but I am fearful their words are falling on deaf ears....I have talked several times..., and made alternative proposals..., but none has had any traction--except one. In desperation, I made a proposal to maintain a group that would only work...projects and lean heavily on the Science of Learning. This group would be comprised of a smaller number of people....I have been asked to put a brief together and brief the...Governance Board of Directors (GBOD) this Thursday. My hope is that the...support...present at the GBOD, will continue to push to ensure...existence. We all understand that...budget cuts are necessary to offset...costs...; however, I have a hard time understanding how a small...relatively inexpensive to operate and consistently delivers positive cost benefits...(our cost $17m return $450m+) can be placed on the chopping block without undergoing any formal business process reviews. I can't easily accept the decision to cut...funding, and I will continue to work with our Sponsors and Customers, as well as our...leadership, to find ways to negotiate both sides...out of this stalemate. The fight isn’t over yet, hang in there with me for a while...very respectfully...

Sometimes, when you are a coach, you have to learn the best way to say a bad message. There's three methods: hard-and-fast, diplomatic, and sugar-coating. Before I talk about them, let me be honest and say that there's no coach on the planet who likes passing on bad news. As an athlete, I certainly felt the opposite, let me tell you.

Hard-and-fast is the most painful for the athlete to hear, and the least painful for the coach to provide. "You're never going to get any faster in the five-thousand meters." That's a good example. Hopefully, the coach will be smart or insightful enough to say something like, "however, you do have great endurance and might be able to run some great half-marathons" as a salve for the wound they just inflicted.

Then, there are coaches like me who would much prefer to be diplomatic in our tack. Rather than say, "are you freakin' out of your mind!? You've been running all of three months. A marathon is going to turn you into a non-runner," we try to say, "let's try a few 5,000-meter races first, then move up to the 10K, and so on..." However, rather than listen to our voice of reason, most athletes who will make that particular decision either go do the marathon and get injured so badly they never want to run more than a mile a whack ever again, or they go to one of those "four miles a day, three days a week, and don't forget to walk every ten minutes" training programs. Then I see them on crutches in the local running emporium and all I want to do is sidle up to them and say, "see? I told you it was a bad idea..."

Sugar-coating does neither the athlete nor the coach any good. The message never gets across clearly, and the intent is lost. Invariably, the blame game occurs and both sides lose.