I Messed Up...

The first job that I took seriously was as a high school strength and conditioning coach.  I got paid a few thousand bucks a year to stand in a weight room and make sure kids didn’t drop a weight on their toe.  I took this job seriously and did my best to build a training program to be proud of.  More kids came to train, there were success stories, it was awesome.  

There were also moments of complete and utter failure.  One training day comes to mind, early in my tenure there.  

It was a summer training camp, we had groups of 15-20 coming in every 90 minutes.  Bigger groups demand time management and court awareness, two things that I’ve always struggled with.  At that point in my coaching career, I didn’t have a prayer of controlling the room. 

The kids were moving from station to station and despite the chaotic feel of 15 high schoolers lifting weights with one 22-year old telling them what to do, things were getting done.  

One of the stations was pullups, where kids went one at a time, using a bench if they weren’t tall enough.  If a kid couldn’t do a pull up, the assignment was for them to hang there as long as possible.  I know, not exactly world-class training methods but it worked for the most part.  

One young woman, one of my best athletes, stepped onto the bench to complete a set of pullups.  I remember watching her climb onto the bench and grab the pull up handles, thinking as she did “Andrea is one of my best athletes, no worries with her”.  I turned my back to watch a ninety-pound freshman struggle to bench press the bar off of his chest.. 

No sooner had I turned my back, I heard a loud smack behind me where my star athlete had been doing pull ups.  I turned around to see her crumpled in the corner of the squat rack, lying motionless.   

Panic washed over me. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a summer camp, there were fifteen kids with me, there were no other “adults” and the rest of the school was vacant save for a potential janitor up on the second floor.   

I ran over to Andrea to find that she wasn’t moving.  Stumbling over to the music stand, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911 in sheer panic.  The seconds dragged by as I waited to hear ringing or whatever happens when 911 is called.  I didn’t hear it.  

Looking down at my phone screen, I realized I didn’t have any service.  This was not news, as I had worked in that weight room long enough to know that it was a metal cage void of any Verizon bars.  I had simply blanked on this information..  

“Guys, watch her, I’m going out to go call 911!”

I sprinted into the hallway to make the call, finally getting an operator and filling them in on the situation.  I could hear my heart pounding in my head as I answered their questions.  After hanging up, I ran back into the weight room to find that Andrea had come to, still lying in the squat rack and holding her head.  Apparently, she had passed out while doing the pull up due to a medical condition that I was unaware of.  After losing consciousness, she had fallen off of the bar and hit her head off of the squat rack’s metal crossbar, leaving a large lump on her forehead.   

Horrified to find her in this state, I counted the seconds until I heard movement in the hallway.  The paramedics came in, stabilized her head and took her away.  

I was left in the weight room with 14 kids and another thirty minutes until parents would start showing up.  

Talk about a long thirty minutes.  I honestly don’t remember what we did.  No personal bests were had, I can be sure enough of that.  

That day had a monumental impact on my coaching career.  It made me appreciate the inherent risk that is a part of training and a part of life.  Avoid risk and it’s difficult to make progress.  Take on too much risk and a training program, a school year or a life can be the cost.   

Coaching since that day has been mitigating risk.  Finding ways to train hard, feel good and enjoy movement without pushing past the point of no return.  My consultation process became more thorough, my data tracking sharpened and my court awareness improved.  I never wanted to hear something happen in the weight room, I wanted to see it.  Better yet, I wanted to be involved with it. I never wanted to feel that helpless again.  

Sadly, mistakes serve as great lessons.  In hindsight, I could have done more to prevent that from happening.  I made a pact that day to do everything I could to avoid injury on the training floor and that pact still stands to this day.  Mitigating risk while chasing goals is challenging but the best do it better than the rest.  

Here’s to making mistakes and learning from them the first time.