Weird in my Own Way

July 24, 2019

With Team Steve Speed & Hurdle Camp #6 being a little more than two months away, I wanted to write a post that explains my whole philosophy behind why I do these camps, and why I find them very gratifying.

As an English teacher, one thing I always tell my students who see themselves as different or weird is, “Hey, everybody’s weird in their own way. Be weird in your way.” One way in which I’m weird as a track coach is that I really, really don’t like hoarding “secrets” that are accessible only to the athletes whom I coach. Throughout my career, I’ve always been willing to help athletes from opposing schools or clubs, and have had them come and practice with kids that I coach regularly. My attitude has always been, if you have the sincere desire to get better and to do the necessary work required to get better, and you come to me seeking assistance on your quest, and I have the knowledge and wherewithal to help you, then I have an obligation to use my gifts in such a way that you are able to enhance yours.

I have a three-part rationale for my approach. The first has to do with my understanding of what competition is all about. According to the online Google Dictionary, the word “compete” comes from the Latin word “competere,” which means “to seek together,” or “to strive together.” However, the modern-day definition of the word is to “strive to gain or win something by defeating or establishing superiority over others who are trying to do the same.” So, you can see how the modern definition has strayed from the original source. In “competere,” there is no mention of superiority. But it is quite evident that when it comes to competitive endeavors, the mindset of the majority of us is that of the need to establish superiority, and that only when we have done so can we say that all the hard work has paid off.

I don’t like that perspective, and never have.  I much prefer the original perspective of striving together, of seeking together—striving for excellence, for mastery, and seeking greatness by overcoming many trials. The notion that the second-place finisher is the “first loser” is a societal cancer, if you ask me. What it all really comes down to is bringing out the best in yourself, being the best that you can be. And if that doesn’t get you first place, that doesn’t make you a failure; it doesn’t mean that you let yourself down. All you can control is the work you put in; you can’t control the results. But you have to trust in your abilities, and in the fact that if you put in the work, the results will more often than not take care of themselves.

I’ve never considered helping athletes from other schools or clubs as a conflict of interests. The way I look at it is, my first obligation is to the sport. Or, more specifically nowadays (now that I no longer coach for a school or a club, but only coach privately), to the hurdles.  When I was seventeen years old and was diagnosed with a potentially fatal blood disease, the desire to hurdle again was my primary motivation for fighting back and maintaining my will to live. That’s something that has stayed with me ever since. So, if you want to know where my sense of obligation comes from, it comes from that. When I see hurdlers who are seeking help, I don’t see a uniform color; I don’t see someone from a rival school or club. I see me when I was seventeen. So, I don’t see “our squad vs. their squad,” or “my crew vs. another coach’s crew.” I see hurdlers.

Additionally, I do have plenty of confidence to go with my humility. If other coaches ask me for advice or tips, I have no problem giving it. If they watch videos of my athletes on my Instagram page or YouTube channel, and they want to adopt drills and workouts that I use, that’s perfectly fine with me. If more hurdlers are being helped with methods I use, that makes me happy. The confident part lies in the fact that I have full confidence that no one else can teach what I teach as effectively as I teach it. That’s the type of confidence that I must have as a coach. Because, yes, at the end of the day, I want to win. I want my athletes to cross the finish line in first place every time they line up to race. I’m not going to say “hey, at least you tried” if one of my athletes falls short of his or her goal. But I keep it all in perspective. The ultimate reason we train in all kinds of weather and even when we’re sick is because this is how we grow as people, this is how we build relationships, this is how we forge bonds that will last lifetimes.

Finally, I think it’s just basic human decency to share what you have, whether it’s knowledge, food, money, a good book, whatever. I remember when I was in college, there were kids who wouldn’t share notes with me if I missed class because of a track meet. They didn’t want to give me an edge; they didn’t want to risk the possibility that I might earn a better grade than them after not attending the class that particular day. That attitude pissed me off then, and it still rubs me the wrong way now. Everything we have gained in our lives has been given to us by a Higher Source, a Higher Power. By passing it on to others who need it, we do not become depleted; in fact, quite the opposite happens. We feel even more satisfied because we are fulfilling our larger purpose of serving humanity to the best of our abilities.

So when it comes to the Team Steve Camps, they have provided me a forum in which to make myself available to hurdlers from all over who need help improving. For the previous five camps, which were all held in North Carolina, we’ve had athletes come from many different parts of the country, and even one from outside the country. For the upcoming camp, which will be held at Mercersburg Academy in Mercersburg, PA, we already have athletes signed up from places as far away as Wisconsin, Oklahoma, and Texas, in addition to several who are from nearby states, like New York and Maryland. In that sense, the camps are proving to be a vehicle that allows me to make my vision a reality. I can coach all those who come to me, without regard for what uniform they wear on race day.

In the video above, from the most recent Team Steve Camp last spring, I talk to the campers about my former athlete, Cameron Akers, whose image appears on the camp T-shirts. My talk in this video sums up my philosophy in a nutshell.

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