Why Kids Should Not Train to Race Year Round

In youth sport after youth sport, the year-round club model is taking hold for children before they reach their tenth birthday. Indeed, making the club team for sports such as soccer and softball is more important than the local high school team for many athletes. The athletes that participate on the clubs often receive very high levels of coaching, though that is not a given. AAU basketball, for example, is more about showcasing talent for colleges than for skills development. 

The single sport emphasis of today's athletes arguably hurts their athletic development, and actually leads to more injuries. In a study presented by authors NA Jayanthi , C. Pinkham, and A. Luke, titled THE RISKS OF SPORTS SPECIALIZATION AND RAPID GROWTH IN YOUNG ATHLETES, they found a significant correlation towards specialized athletes and injury rates. Another study, done by the American Orthopaedic Society for Sports Medicine (AOSSM), supports the same conclusion, arguing that the increase in overuse injuries is reaching epidemic proportions.

In both studies, it was the level of organized activities that correlated most with injury rates. That organizational bent usually was the result of early specialization, which added time to the training activity on the assumption that more and early work would lead to improved skills. It also led to highly repetitive drills that created overuse injuries.

In recent NFL drafts, 80 percent of the players taken in the first round were multi-sport competitors in high school. I've talked with coaches, both at the D1 level and at high schools, most prefer athletes with a varied sports background. Rick Riley, in a conversation we had last year, suggested part of his success in running came from the varied activities - swimming, hiking, bucking hay - that he did as a youth. Each built different muscles and trained the nervous system to respond to new inputs and made the whole stronger in the process.

The legendary Dr. Jack Daniels concurred, writing in his book Daniel's Running Formula that "all runners can benefit from breaks in training." Bill Bowerman, as reported in Kenny Moore's excellent Bowerman and the Men of Oregon, despised indoor track, feeling that it interfered with the necessary base building activity that a runner need to engage in while recharging the system. After the Munich Olympics, he gave Steve Prefontaine months off, telling him to just keep moving until the fire came back.

Which leads us to a second concern about year-round training and racing. Along side of the injury issues are recurring stories of athletes burned out by the process. When the simple act of running becomes a constant grind of training, with each run measured by the success of the training stimulus and not the pleasure, it turns to work. For some, that hard work is it's own reward, but the number of individuals that can function on a constant diet of stress is minimal. Most kids break down, either physically or emotionally. We lose two-thirds of our athletes from junior high to high school this way.

There is a season for everything and every season has an end. For too many kids, the training begins to resemble the ordeal of Sisyphus, forever pushing a boulder up the mountain, but never destined to reach the top. At some point, the labors must be over and the hero gets both the rewards of the effort, and a chance to rest briefly on his or her laurels with the competitive fire banked until it's needed again. When it is, the passion will return and the athlete returns to the task renewed and stronger.

To quote Pat Tyson, head coach at Gonzaga, speaking of the goals for young runners, "Number one is just to gain a passion for running. To love the morning, to love the trail, to love the pace on the track. And if some kid gets really good at it, that's cool too."

It's a great quote and shows that Pat Tyson has his priorities solidly founded on bedrock principles. There's a reason he won multiple state championships at Mead High School and is beloved by his athletes. It's not my favorite quote, though. My favorite from Pat shows how uncomplicated it can be and simultaneously deep.

Love the run.

Give that kid a prize!

Today I'm taking a detour on running stuff to talk about high school. We'll get back to running over the weekend as I put together an article on how my experience with a coach has progressed.

Tuesday, I cleared my schedule and headed up to Spokane. I had two missions and a quest. The first mission was an interview with Pat Tyson, the head XC coach at Gonzaga University. Pat is every bit a gentleman and it's easy to see why he has enjoyed so much success coaching. He's incredibly positive, calling out by name students, athletes, and friends as they past us on the way to classes. More on that visit on another day.

The second mission was to visit a creative writing class at Mead High School. Dori Whitford is the teacher, the track coach, and one of my biggest fans. I offered last year to visit, meet her class and her xc team, and had a blast, so I offered to do it again during the spring semester.

What a joy! The group is eclectic in personality. I sat in with a group while they did a reading of their work in progress. I didn't have the entire backstory to work with, but the young man put together an engaging piece of writing that was imaginative and held together nciely.

Dori shared a paper from another young lady, a future writer. She's sixteen or seventeen but she has the eye of an author and a voice of her own that was apparent from the first page.

I also had a chance to meet a young lady who has been getting updates (too infrequently!) on my current book and has been hugely supportive. She had to ask special permission to visit the creative writing class instead of going to math. That's a high compliment that she offered me - I'm not sure she realizes that, but when I'm writing, she's one of the ideal readers that I hold in my head.

When I say the eye of an author, by the way, I'm talking about something quite specific and I'm not sure it can be taught. It the ability to see that one thing that defines a person or a thing or a behavior and be able to express it. It goes beyond simply seeing what is present. Like the chain of a knotted necklace folded into itself, there is one link, when you pull it, begins to unravel the whole length until the charm at the end shows through.

There's always that one person who seems to know which link to pull. When she does, the rest of us stand around and think, "How did she do that?"

In writing, we think, "I wish I could do that." You'll hear the same thing in writing with dialogue. Some writers have a knack for capturing the voice of their characters without resorting to the clumsy use of patois to get the point across. The word choices are subtle, the pacing and the rhythm shift, and the voice becomes unique to the character. The writers that pull that off have great ears. They listen and distill, and then know the words to pour on the page to bring it to life for the rest of us.

This girl has those kind of eyes. Dori called her over before the class got start. I could see repressed excitement, and a little fear, when Dori  told her that I had read part of her work. I made the comment about her eye for the telling detail. I'm not sure she realized she lifted almost onto tippy-toes while we talked and she needs to focus on breathing, but I really hope she keeps writing and working at learning the craft of writing.

The prize, though, goes to a young man in the back of the class.

I brought in copies of my books, including the new home inspection book. We were about halfway through the class when he raised his hand and asked a simple question.

"Did you know you have a grammatical error on the cover?"

The oxygen level in the room went to zero as all the kids sucked in air and I'm pretty sure my eyebrows were trying to climb over my forehead.

"I do?" (I'm great with witty repartee - always after the fact.)

He read it to me. I did. And twenty pairs of eyeballs waited to see what the Author in front was going to do.

I exploded with, "Thank you!"

Which might have been the most shocking thing I could have said to him, and in front of all of them. I reinforced the thank you with a  quick lecture on always thanking people that have helped you in your writing. This young man had done me a very large favor in pointing out something that literally hundreds of people had missed, including some professionals.

It impressed me that he had the gumption to speak up, both in front of the class and in front of me, and ask an honest question that would be sure to elicit  response. There was no way for him to know how I would react.

Neat, neat kids, all the way around. I enjoyed all the questions about writing and self-publishing, and even the discussion on story-telling after the class was over.

The quest was to find a particular wine shop. I found it - and it was closed. Sadness.