Coach class

Back when I was still unemployed, a former rowing coach asked whether I wanted to volunteer to help him out with Central Florida Rowing, UCF's club crew program, just a couple of days a week, because he needed the help, and well, I wasn't doing anything at the time.

I'm glad I took him up on the offer, because I've been surprised at how much I've enjoyed it and how much I care about the kids. (I can't stop myself from calling them "kids," even though the group of 8 or 9 whom I coach are college freshmen and sophomores.)

I think it's been a win-win for both me and them. It's been a personal-enrichment exercise for me as far as trying to convey processes and techniques, as well as help develop what little leadership skills I have.

At the high-paying software-company job I left earlier this year, I played a similar role of instructor -- but it was of technical information at which I myself was not an expert and therefore uncomfortable explaining. (I still think I could have become an expert eventually, but not before I rode the elevator to the roof of the swanky office building in which I worked and leaped off.)

But rowing: I do know rowing well -- at least the fundamentals -- and uncharacteristically, I can say that with confidence.

I coach two afternoons a week, riding in a launch just like this and barking out simple orders like a drill sergeant. I've always been soft-spoken, which has caused some trouble because I have to not only make sure the rowers hear me from 30 feet away, but I also have to shout over a motor. But that's all part of the personal-enrichment exercise I guess. I've been learning to yell, and I sometimes come home hoarse.

I even find myself thinking of coaching (read: work, even though I'm unpaid) on my days off, coming up with exercises and drills, thinking of what "we" need to work on or what needs improvement. I've rarely held a position that occupied my thoughts on my days off. I show up thoroughly prepared, with LED lights (it gets dark during the time we're on the lake, and we're all supposed to wear lights, a la cyclists, for safety), tools, reporter's notepad, athletic tape, seat pads and various other pieces of equipment.

The aforementioned former UCF coach once saw me walking across the beach with my little reporter's notepad -- I carried it because I'm horrible with names and I was adamant to learn them -- and said to me, "The good news, is you're organized. The bad news is, you're organized." The implication was that I could easily give myself an ulcer at this job, because trying to stick to a plan is futile when one little unexpected occurrence, such as a single rower no-showing, will inevitably be a monkey wrench. (Which immediately harkened me back to my failure at the software-company job. I think I tried too hard to be methodical, which is in my DNA. When things happened so fast and so chaotically there, I was doomed to fail.)

Coaching also has helped me feel useful, important and productive professionally. I feel like the kids are getting something out of it, too, since they're doing drills and learning techniques with which they're not familiar. They seem to respect me, and a few have even followed me to my car after a practice and asked if I could help them get better at X or Y. I have another story with this item, but I'll save it for our next convo.

It's a new position in which I find myself, and I'm having fun with it so far.