Introduction: Transforming Athletic Performance Through Faith and Connection
Fear is the silent killer of potential. It whispers doubts, creates barriers, and prevents athletes from achieving their true capabilities. During my forty years as a track and field coach at Mountain Brook High School, I learned something important. The best cure for fear is not discipline or punishment. It is faith. This includes faith in yourself, faith in your teammates, and faith in something bigger than our current situation.
Relational Coaching emerged from my understanding that athletic performance is fundamentally a human experience. It’s not just about making machines or strict systems. It’s about understanding the complex feelings and spirit of each athlete. Fear manifests in countless ways – fear of failure, fear of disappointing others, fear of not being good enough. These fears can paralyze even the most talented athletes, preventing them from reaching their true potential.
Faith, in contrast, is transformative. When athletes learn to replace fear with real belief, amazing things happen. They believe in themselves, their training, and their purpose. This faith is not just blind hope. It is a strong confidence that comes from knowing your own worth and potential.
For many of my athletes, this faith was deeply connected to their spiritual beliefs. I found that athletes who link their sports to a higher purpose show great resilience and motivation. This can be through religious faith or a deeper personal meaning. This did not mean forcing religious beliefs on anyone. It meant giving athletes room to explore and share their own views on faith.
The principles of Relational Coaching are built on this fundamental belief in transforming fear into faith:
- Trust is the foundation of all growth
- Understanding individual motivations is crucial
- Faith can overcome seemingly insurmountable fears
- Holistic development matters more than athletic performance
- Genuine relationships are the most powerful coaching tool
Throughout this book, I’ll share stories that illustrate how faith can systematically dismantle fear. These aren’t just athletic anecdotes, but profound human journeys of transformation. Each story shows how helping young people move from fear to faith can unlock their amazing potential.
My goal was not to create champion athletes. I wanted to help young people become strong and confident. I aimed for them to understand their own value. The track was simply our training ground for life’s broader challenges.
As you read these stories, I invite you to reflect on your own experiences with fear and faith. Where have you allowed fear to limit your potential? What beliefs could help you transcend those limitations? Relational Coaching is about seeing that our biggest barriers are often inside us. Our strongest resources are the beliefs we choose to accept.
The journey from fear to faith is not a linear path. It’s messy, complicated, and deeply personal. But it is also the most transformative journey an athlete – or any person – can undertake.
Are you ready to explore how faith can systematically dismantle fear and unlock extraordinary human potential?
Chapter 1: The Kiss That Changed Everything
As I think back on my forty years as the track and field coach at Mountain Brook High School, one story stands out. It was the moment I truly understood the power of what I now call “Relational Coaching.” It involves a talented but inconsistent runner named Jim and a girl named Linda.
Jim was always held back by his fear of disappointing his father. No matter how much I talked about scholarships or personal bests, Jim couldn’t shake this fear. His performances were erratic, and he often fell short of his potential in big meets. I knew Jim had the talent to be one of our top runners, but something was holding him back.
It wasn’t until I took the time to really get to know Jim that I discovered the root of his struggles. Jim’s father had been a star athlete in his day, and Jim felt an immense pressure to live up to that legacy. This fear was paralyzing him, keeping him from reaching his full potential.
Then, during one of our conversations, Jim mentioned a girl named Linda. His eyes lit up when he talked about her, and I could see that his feelings for Linda were a source of joy and excitement for him. That’s when an idea struck me.
At the state championship meet, Jim was having another disappointing performance. He was running in 37th place, far below where he should have been based on his abilities. During the race, I pulled Jim aside and told him I’d arranged for Linda to give him a kiss if he finished in the top 25.
The change in Jim was immediate and dramatic. Suddenly, he found a burst of energy he never knew he had. He started passing other runners, moving up through the pack with a determination I’d never seen from him before. By the end of the race, Jim had finished 24th, just making it into the top 25.
True to my word (and thanks to a quick conversation with Linda before the race), Linda gave Jim a kiss on the bus ride home. The team erupted in cheers, and Jim’s face was beaming with pride and joy.
But the real transformation came in the weeks and months that followed. Jim’s motivation changed. He moved from fearing his father’s disappointment to believing in himself. Now, he enjoys pursuing what he truly wants. His performances became more consistent, and he began to enjoy running in a way he never had before.
This experience taught me a valuable lesson about the power of understanding what truly motivates each individual athlete. It’s not always about the sport itself – sometimes, the motivation comes from a much more personal place. By getting to know Jim as a person, not just an athlete, I helped him find a motivation stronger than his fears.
Now, I want to be clear – this isn’t about manipulation or using external rewards as a constant motivator. The kiss from Linda was a temporary bridge that helped Jim discover his own potential. After that race, Jim’s confidence grew. He started to run for himself. He no longer ran out of fear of disappointing others or to impress them.
This story marked a turning point in my coaching career. I realized that my role extended far beyond teaching physical skills or tactics. I was in a unique position to impact young lives, to help shape not just athletes, but well-rounded individuals. It was the start of what I now call “Relational Coaching.” This approach focuses on the human element in athletic development.
From that point on, I made it a priority to really get to know each of my athletes. I wanted to understand their fears, their dreams, and what truly motivated them. This approach improved athletic performances. It also helped my athletes learn important life skills. These skills will benefit them long after their time on the track.
The story of Jim and Linda became a sort of legend on our team, a reminder of the power of faith over fear. It taught all of us, both coaches and athletes, that believing in ourselves is important. When we find joy in what we do, we can achieve things we never thought possible.
As I worked on this approach over the years, I saw many examples. Understanding an athlete’s personal motivations can lead to breakthroughs both on and off the track. That kiss on the bus ride home will always stand out in my memory. It was the moment I truly understood the power of Relational Coaching.
Chapter 2: The Summer That Changed Everything
In the world of high school track and field, summer training can make or break a team’s success in the upcoming season. At Mountain Brook High School, we chose a different way. This approach not only brought us athletic success but also helped our athletes become responsible and self-motivated individuals.
It was the summer of 2013, and I had been coaching at Mountain Brook for over three decades. We had already made a name for ourselves in Alabama track and field. We won several state championships. I knew we had to do something different to keep our success and make a real impact on our athletes.
That summer, I implemented a new approach to our training program. I chose not to have strict daily practices. Instead, I let the athletes take responsibility for their own training. Starting June 1st, I will meet with the team five days a week. I will offer a menu of workouts. These workouts will include distance runs and hill repeats. But here’s the twist: I only required each athlete to attend at least 10 practices over the entire summer.
This approach raised some eyebrows among other coaches and even some parents. They worried that without strict oversight, the athletes wouldn’t put in the necessary work. But I had faith in our team and in the principles of Relational Coaching that I had been developing over the years.
I remember sitting down with our girls’ 4×400 relay team at the beginning of that summer. Instead of dictating their workout plan, I explained the principles behind effective training. We discussed the importance of being consistent. We also talked about balancing hard work with recovery. Finally, we covered how to listen to their bodies.
“Girls,” I said, “I’m not going to force you to be here every day. But I want you to understand why each workout matters and how it contributes to your overall performance. This summer, you’re going to learn how to be your own coaches.”
The team looked at me with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. They were used to being told exactly what to do and when to do it. This new freedom was both liberating and a little scary.
Over the next few weeks, I watched as the girls began to take ownership of their training. They started showing up not because they had to, but because they wanted to. They would discuss workout options among themselves, making informed decisions about what their bodies needed each day.
One day, I overheard a conversation between two of the relay team members, Sarah and Emily. Sarah was feeling particularly tired and was considering skipping the day’s workout. But Emily, instead of pressuring her to train, asked thoughtful questions about how Sarah had been sleeping and eating. They decided together that Sarah would do a light recovery run. Emily would do a more intense workout.
This kind of peer support and decision-making was exactly what I had hoped to see. The girls were not just following a training plan. They were learning to understand their bodies. They supported each other and made smart choices about their training.
As the summer progressed, I noticed a change in the team’s attitude. They came to practices energized and focused. They asked more questions, eager to understand the “why” behind each workout. They began to see how their summer work linked to their goals for the next season.
One particularly hot Alabama day in July, I watched as the relay team pushed through a grueling hill workout. The temperature was well over 90 degrees, and the humidity was oppressive. In previous years, I might have had to constantly encourage (or even force) the team to complete such a challenging session. But that day, the girls attacked the hills with a determination I had never seen before.
After the workout, as the team was catching their breath and rehydrating, one of the girls, Melissa, approached me. “Coach,” she said, wiping sweat from her brow, “I think I understand now why we do these hill workouts. It’s not just about getting stronger physically, is it? It’s about proving to ourselves that we can do hard things.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Melissa had hit the nail on the head. These summer workouts were about so much more than just physical preparation. They focused on building mental toughness and self-discipline. They learned to push through discomfort. These skills would help the young athletes on and off the track.
As the summer came to a close and we prepared for the start of the school year, I could see the transformation in our team. They were fitter, yes, but more importantly, they were more confident, more self-aware, and more committed to their goals than ever before.
The results spoke for themselves. That year, our girls’ team went on to win their 11th consecutive state championship. The 4×400 relay team not only won their event but broke the school record. After the meet, we celebrated our victory. I heard one of the girls tell her teammates, “That win came from a lot of hard work.” Remember all those summer mornings when we chose to show up and push ourselves?”
This experience strengthened my belief in Relational Coaching. It showed me how important it is for athletes to own their development. By trusting our athletes and teaching them to trust themselves, we achieved athletic success. We also helped them develop important life skills.
As I thought about that summer, I saw that this way of coaching went beyond just track and field. It was about getting these young people ready for life. We taught them the value of self-motivation, making decisions, and perseverance. These were lessons that would serve them well long after their days of competitive running were over.
Chapter 3: The Comeback Kid
Throughout my coaching career at Mountain Brook High School, I’ve had the privilege of working with many talented athletes. But sometimes, the most rewarding experiences come from helping those who are struggling to reach their potential. This was true for Allan, a young man. His journey taught me important lessons about perseverance. It also showed me the need to address the whole person, not just the athlete.
Allan joined our track team as a freshman, full of potential but lacking in confidence. He had natural ability in the throwing events, particularly the discus, but he struggled with consistency. In his first year, Allan’s performances were erratic at best. He would have flashes of brilliance in practice, only to crumble under the pressure of competition.
As we began his sophomore year, I knew we needed to take a different approach with Allan. I followed the ideas of Relational Coaching. I chose to spend more time getting to know him as a person, not just as an athlete. Through our conversations, I discovered that Allan was dealing with challenges at home and struggling academically. These off-track issues were weighing heavily on him, affecting his performance and his overall well-being.
I remember one particularly difficult practice where Allan became frustrated after a series of poor throws. Instead of focusing on his technique, I decided to take a walk with him around the track. As we walked, I asked him about his classes, his family, his interests outside of track. Gradually, Allan opened up about the pressure he felt to succeed, not just in sports but in all areas of his life.
“Coach,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “sometimes I feel like I’m letting everyone down. My parents, my teachers, the team… I just can’t seem to get anything right.”
This conversation was a turning point. I realized that to help Allan succeed on the track, we first needed to address the broader issues affecting his life. We worked together to develop a plan that went beyond just athletic training. I connected Allan with tutoring resources to help him improve his grades. We talked about time management strategies to help him balance his schoolwork, training, and family responsibilities. We focused on building his self-confidence. We celebrated small improvements and emphasized personal growth over just competition results.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but gradually, we began to see improvements. Allan’s grades started to improve, which in turn boosted his confidence. He became more consistent in practice, and slowly but surely, his performance in meets began to improve as well.
By the end of his sophomore year, Allan had made significant progress, but he was still far from reaching his full potential. As we headed into his junior year, I knew it was time to push him to the next level. I challenged Allan to set ambitious goals for himself, not just in track but in all areas of his life.
Allan embraced the challenge with a determination I had never seen from him before. He committed himself fully to his training, often staying late after practice to work on his technique. He took on a leadership role on the team, encouraging and supporting his teammates. And he continued to excel in his studies, earning a spot on the honor roll for the first time.
The defining moment came at the state championship meet in Allan’s junior year. As he stepped into the discus ring for his final throw, Allan was in fourth place, just outside of medal contention. I watched from the sidelines, holding my breath along with the rest of our team.
Allan took a deep breath, began his spin, and released the discus with perfect timing. The moment it left his hand, I knew it was a special throw. The discus soared through the air, landing well beyond the marks of the other competitors. When the measurement was announced, our team erupted in cheers. Allan had not only won the state championship but had set a new personal best by a significant margin.
As Allan ran over to celebrate with the team, I saw tears in his eyes. These weren’t just tears of joy for winning a competition; they were tears of pride for overcoming so many obstacles to reach this point. In that moment, I remembered why I became a coach. I wanted to help young people find their potential. I wanted them to achieve things they never thought they could.
Allan’s success continued in his senior year. He earned a scholarship to compete in track and field at Troy University. But more important than his athletic achievements were the personal growth and life skills he had developed through his high school career.
Years later, I received an email from Allan. He had graduated from college and was starting a successful career in business. In his message, he thanked me for helping him become a better athlete. He also appreciated the life lessons I taught him. These lessons were about perseverance, self-belief, and the importance of addressing all parts of life to achieve success.
Allan’s story reinforced for me the power of Relational Coaching. By taking time to understand the whole person, not just the athlete, we can help our students. This way, they can overcome obstacles and find success both on and off the field. It’s a reminder that as coaches, our impact extends far beyond the realm of sports. We have the opportunity to shape lives, build character, and help young people discover their true potential.
As I look back on my career at Mountain Brook High School, stories like Allan’s stand out as some of my proudest moments. They remind me that a coach’s success is not just about winning championships or breaking records. It is also about the lives we touch and the character we help develop in young people. We have the privilege to work with them.
In the next chapter, we will look at how Relational Coaching can be used outside of sports. It can change lives in ways we may not have thought possible
