10 Tips for Battling the Post Season Blues

plz read it

JAG GYM Blog

It’s a common thing at the end of any sports season: the post season blues.  Even, and maybe even especially, among coaches.

We get to the end of the season and we arrive at, as one colleague describes it, “the end of season jitters in their clubs…the nasty rumors about quitting or switching gyms.”

It’s rough. How do you, as a coach, handle it?

1. Expect them.  Yes, by simply expecting that you might feel a little bleh at season’s end, at least you won’t be sucker punched when it happens. 
2. Accept them.  If you put your whole self into you job, the highs are high, but then the lows are low.  Don’t be hard on yourself that you shouldn’t feel a little down if you in fact do.  They are just feelings and they will pass.  I promise.
3. Keep perspective.  Our…

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The Woman You Praised

like ut

A Holistic Journey

Cleopatra in Wiki

The one thing she wasn’t known for was a beautiful face but people – men in particular – were arrested by her presence, charisma, eloquence, and intellect. Cleopatra was captivating with a beauty only she could claim.

What is the greatest compliment you have received as a woman or paid one?

Though I have never sought it or known myself to be particularly attractive, I have in years past found the attention of men flattering. I don’t see that it wouldn’t be. It’s a confession that doesn’t sound politically correct against the backdrop of the many popular posts defending inner beauty and self-acceptance. I was startled by the realization this week that you also have all made me feel very beautiful. While male bloggers may enjoy affection or encouragement from their readers, they are not going to say we made them feel so lovely. Julius Caesar attracted…

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Words Between Mom and Boy, Part 3

u can not go without reading

A Holistic Journey

Seven-and-a-half~

Yes, we all have our job. Yours is to study, mine is to cook and teach you, Daddy’s is to make money.
Huh. I have the hardest job of all.

—————

Umma, what is the bottom number? The lowest number….the floor?
*Smile* It’ll be a negative number, right? Way below zero. Only God can reach it because He is infinite.
When I get to heaven, I’m going to ask Him to show me how He stretches from the lowest to the highest number.

—————–

*Watching him eat, in amazement*
Where does it all go? It’s a three-mile tunnel in there.
I’m mileless.

—————–

Mom, what is M x X?

—————–

Mom, you know what the bottommost lowest number is?
What?
Negative infinity.

—————-

His prayer in Sunday School
Lord, give us joy as we fall at your feet.
*Stunned*

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A Rose In Her Hair

lovely

Words: a Love Story.

fantastic

When You Don’t Know Why: Ask Questions

it is right

JAG GYM Blog

When my daughters were in high school they wore a uniform to school.  As part of the uniform, it was mandated that the girls wear rubber soled athletic style shoes. 

For years I did not understand why in the world they had to wear such ugly clunky shoes with their skirts.  Why couldn’t they wear ballet flats or loafers?  I really thought it was a petty and, frankly, a stupid rule. 

Finally, one day I was talking to a teacher from the school, and I just decided to ask the question: why no loafers or ballet flats?  She explained that because the school is almost exclusively floored in ceramic tile that the hard soles would make a terrible amount of noise when girls walked in the halls distracting from the learning environment.  Additionally, hard sole shoes tended to slip in the tile, poising a safety…

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Sunshine Saturday (Here’s Hoping)

life is good

City Jackdaw

Have a great weekend people. Hope you manage to see some sunshine.

And switch off your phones!

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The City

nice

City Jackdaw

(Manchester as woman)

She wakes slowly, takes a while to come around, rubbing her eyes wearily as strangers knock at her door. It is too early to let them in. (Not before she has put her face on.)

But she doesn’t mind them waiting, pacing up and down outside. After all, they have come from all over the world. They all have their particular needs.

She is still working class, at heart. A woodbine dangles from the corner of her mouth as she speaks, her stockings are laddered and torn.

But in public, these days, she’s taken to wearing fancy clothes, adopting airs and graces and chameleon-like traits. A fixed, demure smile hiding those dirty thoughts.

Every now and again, though, the mask slips, old habits and all that, and you find that she’s not averse to flipping you a nicotine-stained finger, or thrusting a broken glass into your unsuspecting…

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It Never Happens the Way We Think It Will Happen

it well

Teri Carter's Library

I am walking my dog when it happens. The woman does not see me. The woman does not see my dog. The woman points her car my way and guns it, and when I see she doesn’t see me—doesn’t see my bright blue shirt nor my arm waving ‘hello neighbor’ in the air nor my big yellow lab standing at the side of her driveway—I dive to my right and the bumper of her car clips my hip and I tumble down and over the newly-mowed grass of her lawn and the next thing I know I’m lying there, just lying there, pushing to get up and looking at my dog looking down at me with her tail wagging, wagging wagging wagging. The dog licks my hand. We are alive, the dog seems to say. We are okay.

For the last decade I’ve been walking my dogs in a downtown…

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Nailing My Colours To The Seasonal Mast

it is goood

City Jackdaw

I am a well known, self-affirmed winter lover. Frosty mornings, gloomy afternoons, and sleet-scourged nights do it for me. Bleak rather than bright is my inspirational kick.

But even I, in my hoary thrall, can appreciate the sights and sounds of the other seasons. I mean, how beautiful is the scene below of our local church, taken last week in all its decorative setting?

The church is just a minute’s walk from my house. Given the right breeze, and the right appreciative eye, some of that blossom could be adding much needed mottled colour to my front garden.

Yes, I acknowledge the spirit-lifting effect that all of this brightness and colour brings, while also decrying the usual urban downsides: the wasps that thwart the kids’ picnics; the drone of the quad bikes; the outdoor parties that stagger on into the early hours. I know, I know, I’m getting old. Ageing…

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