Where did the time go?

Time. Where does it go? When I was a teenager, it seemed like time stood still.

I can remember knowing how many days, hours, and minutes until I turned 16 and could get my driver’s license. Had a chart in my room. It seemed like it would never get here.

Back then, when I would go to bed at night, it seemed like it would take forever to get to sleep. At the factory where I worked in the summer during college, an 8 hour shift felt like 8 days.

When I got to UT-Memphis for physical therapy school, things started speeding up a bit. Classes, labs, work, being a newlywed, clinics, student government…there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day.

Then…whoosh…it was over and I moved to Maryville with my pregnant wife, starting a new job in a new city. I’m certain that those 9 months of pregnancy slowed things down for my wife, but not for me. She was in labor for like a year (not really).

And then, blink, I’m old with grandchildren and a new knee and life is hurtling breakneck speed toward something else. Where did the time go?

Many times, I’ve heard coaches tell their freshmen athletes that before they looked around twice, they would be seniors and looking at their final year.

I’ve heard George Quarles many times tell senior football players to savor each moment, enjoy every game, that before they would know it, their season would be over.

When it’s hot and you’re tired and practice is hard, it’s quite difficult to understand that but it is true. I’ve heard senior class after senior class bemoan that their final season was almost over. “Where did it go?”

Maybe it played out with success and wins, but did you enjoy the process? Did you enjoy the pageantry and the competition? Did you enjoy your teammates? Did you even enjoy the practices, where your real effort lies, and the wins, where your effort was rewarded?

So here’s the thing—you don’t have time to waste. Take a day off from training? Is your competitor? You think you have plenty of time but you don’t. In football, you’ve got 10 games. Make the playoffs and a few more.

Other sports? Usually double that or more but still a finite number. You have only “X” number of games or events to play the game that you love, to be the player you dreamed you could be.

Your family is going on a vacation this summer? Great! You don’t have to stop training (and you shouldn’t). You can find a gym to work out in. You can run. You can do body weight exercises if stuck in a hotel room.

We took a volleyball into the Canadian wilderness one time and put a strap up for a net and played volleyball on the shores of a remote lake. We took a basketball to a Caribbean island and somehow found a game or two. You find a way.

You’re tired and want to take a day off from your workouts? If you’re getting enough sleep then it’s OK to back off on your workout, but don’t abandon it. Rest is essential but don’t make excuses.

Then maybe one day you’ll be standing on the podium or hoisting that trophy, and then it will all be worthwhile. All the blood, sweat, and tears. The hot August workouts and the stadium steps until you think your legs will never move again.

But if you’re not the champion, you will still be the best you that you can be. And you will have learned incredibly valuable lessons about what it takes to get there that you will hopefully go on and apply to life.

But whatever you do, don’t you quit!

Time to get out on the water!

It occurred to me that I’ve never talked about what a great place this is for watersports. For the most part, I’m not talking about motorized watersports but I do believe it’s a great place for that too.  We even used to own a couple of personal watercraft that were both a nuisance and a joy.

No, I’m talking about human powered vehicles. Canoes. Kayaks. Paddleboards. Even sailboats. We have everything. Or if we don’t, it’s not far away.

Have you ever rafted the Ocoee? We’ve been going down there for years. I think my son was 10 the first time he did it (there are rules against that now). He was a strong swimmer and a big boy and I had no doubt he could do it safely.

Last summer, I took my two oldest granddaughters on an Ocoee rafting trip. I wasn’t sure how they would do, but they loved it. I couldn’t get either of them to ride the bow of the boat through Hell Hole but they were immediately ready to go again.

The good folks at Adventures Unlimited and our barefoot guide took great care of us and now the rest of the grandchildren are chomping at the bit to get down there. The Ocoee is truly a world class whitewater stream but there is lesser but still worthy whitewater to be found closer by.

The upper reaches of the Little River, as you enter the park, have numerous short runs for the expert paddler. I guess I don’t count the tubers—you sit, you float, you get out.

On the Ocoee, you will see whitewater kayakers toying with rapids. It’s fun to watch them flip and cavort on waves that the rest of us hold our breath on as we safely glide by on rafts. You will also occasionally see a whitewater canoe.

Even closer to us, you can often find whitewater enthusiasts on the Tellico River. Shorter and choppier, folks tell me it can be a blast there.

A bit over an hour away is the Nantahala Outdoor Center, the center of whitewater in the southeast. They have it all. If you haven’t seen the now closed Olympic Whitewater Center on the upper Ocoee, you will find it interesting. It’s hard to imagine the throngs of crowds there in 1996 but it was quite a spectacle.

There are two main types of kayaks, whitewater and flatwater. Our nearby lakes are perfect for flatwater kayaking. A local group that calls themselves the Pungo Paddlers head to area lakes on a regular basis. I prefer my old Grumman canoe but my wife and I will join them from time to time. They don’t seem to mind.

Paddleboards look like surfboards but you stand up on them and paddle with a long handled paddle. A couple of my friends are into whitewater paddleboarding. It looks hard (and I suspect it is). They travel all over to find the best water, sharing many of those rapids with the kayaks. 

Again, our lakes around here are perfect for paddleboarding. My own paddleboarding is confined to the week our family spends at the beach each year. It is heavenly to get up well before everyone else, carry my paddleboard down to the ocean, and get in a couple of miles.

The ocean is quieter, the water is clearer, and the peace surmounts all the troubles in my world. I glide along almost silently which means that you get a great view of rays and turtles in the water below.

I’ve always thought I would enjoy sailing and when I see the occasional sailboat crossing the lake just about the Fort Loudoun Dam, I’m envious. My own sailing is confined to an infrequent bout with a Hobie Cat.

Whatever floats your boat, it’s about time to get out there. And if you don’t really care for all the motors on the lakes, keep looking—I bet you can find a bit of solitude just out your back door.

Parents as the Support System

I can be pretty critical of parents of athletes. I’ve seen the worst. I’ve seen kids quit sports they love because of their parents. These days, I’m witness to a whole new set of parents—tennis parents. That’s another story.

But I know that there are far more good parents than bad. I don’t talk about them enough. Parents that run a taxi service to get their kids to whatever practice or game they might have, then sit quietly, patiently.

Taking them places. Buying the equipment that they need. Cheering them on when they do well. Consoling them when they fail. Good parents are a support system to their kids.

You need to be there for everything--their concerts, their games, their recitals. What you don’t need to do is to coach them from the sidelines. Chances are, they’ve got a coach. 

That’s something that really bugs me. At times, it seems as though there are two kinds of parents: Those that coach from the sidelines and those that officiate from the sidelines.

I’ve talked about this before—officials make mistakes, all of them will admit that, but none go in with a bias against one team or another. They aren’t trying to help one team win or one team to lose. They may even be terrible at it, they may be inconsistent, but they aren’t favoring one team or another.

You’ve got to believe me on that one. I’ve seen more games and events in my career than just about anybody. The late great Galen Johnson and I used to compare notes about who might have seen more games.

Good parents are helping their kids with their homework, making sure they eat healthy food (plenty of vegetables and fruits), and get enough sleep. Support system.

Good parents pick their kids up when they fall and help them understand that winning a championship can never be the best thing they ever do. Support System.

That’s something that I’ve heard now departed coaches George Quarles and Gary Rankin say many, many times. With tons of championships between them, they’ve been there and done that. Got the t-shirt. But they never failed to tell their young charges to take those lessons, take what got them there, and turn them into a life.

It’s OK for your kids to celebrate winning a game. It feels great. It’s OK for you to celebrate with them.  But celebrate the effort too. Celebrate improvement. Even celebrate the participation.

I’ve got one grandchild who one day will figure out all this sports stuff. I think he’ll be good one day. But what’s most important right now is that he gets out there and moves. He participates. He pays attention. He’s part of a team. He celebrates the success of a teammate.

He probably won’t be a professional athlete (very, very few reach that point) but he will most definitely be a successful adult. A good man. That’s what he’s learning right now. That his team wins a game is important—it gives structure and meaning to the games. But right now, at this point in his life, all those other things are far more important.

Parents everywhere need to understand that. Somebody tells you that your 12 year old child is going to be a superstar one day? Hogwash! My volleyball playing daughter never touched a volleyball until she was 15 and she was good. Her sport sort of found her.

Remember too that we never stop being a support system to our children. My kids are 41 and 43 and I like to think that we’re still their support system. Not just a taxi service for my kids but there for whatever they might need.

Right now, my son Nick is running for Chancellor. The hard part is the job covers 5 counties, so his campaign goes from Grainger to Jefferson to Cocke and Sevier Counties. Plus Blount County. It’s daunting.

I’ve put a lot of things on hold to help him with his campaign. I’m not biking much, not hiking, not farming. I work and then help him. Because I’m his support system.

Because that’s what good parents do. And that’s what I aspire to be.