It wasn’t long after the meet that I had a tough pill to swallow: my athletes deserve better, they shouldn’t have their training experience compromised, they ought to have a real speed coach. I wanted to become the speed coach I wish I had.
As if that realization wasn’t enough of a conflict, I had no idea where to begin. If you are in the same boat I was, then you know how much that affected my confidence. I was in a constant thought loop of “Do I have what it takes to coach speed?” I hated this feeling. I thought I did all I needed to in order to become a speed expert. I had read all the books in the industry on speed development, but little did I know, this was only adding to my problem. The onslaught of information I was consuming led to more confusion. What was missing? What haven’t I done? Then, it dawned on me.
In order to become a speed coach, I needed to become a speed coach. Picking up what I’m laying down? The best answer is always the simple one: I had to practice what I preach. If I wanted to coach speed at a high level, then it was essential for me to throw myself in the arena. At that moment, #SPRINTORDIE was born. I called my friend Derek M. Hansen, asked him to be my guide on this journey, and we got to work immediately.
If I wanted to be the speed coach my athletes deserve, then I need to feel what they feel, right? How it feels to push off the line. How it feels to accelerate stride after stride. How it feels to get front-side with my mechanics. How great it feels to reach max velocity and the wind whisking by your ears. This was our plan put in place to achieve the goal, but as is the case with every good story, there was conflict.
I had not sprinted – much less, ran – since my days as a collegiate football player four years prior. To say I went head on into a proverbial wall is an understatement! Injury after injury hit me like a ton of bricks. I suffered more setbacks than I would like to admit, including: