Practice

There is an exceptionally long list of things I’d rather do besides run. In middle school, running was a significant part of football conditioning. Two-a-days, where we’d practice before and after school, were followed by running laps on the trail behind our school.

The trail was nice enough. It had soft hills and curved behind trees. The entire team ran as a group. A few of my teammates shared my anti-passion for running. We began to cut corners, literally, to decrease our steps.

One day, we hatched a beautiful plan. The farthest point from the coaches was also the nearest to the trees. We splintered off into the trees and waited for the team to circle back around. After breaking an initial sweat, we skipped every other lap. As the team came back through, we just quietly rejoined the rear of the herd, where we often trailed anyway.

Frequently, a coach would say something about the importance of practicing. I, or a fellow goober, would use a sing-songy voice to say, “Practice makes perfect.” If Coach Lutz heard this, he would stop us and use a very serious tone to say, “Practice doesn’t make perfect. Only perfect practice makes perfect.”

Coach’s message was that practicing alone was insufficient. We must practice intentionally and properly to get better. If we practice bad habits, we will grow and develop those bad habits. He was right. We practiced running, but we weren’t doing it properly. Games were hard because we weren’t properly conditioned.

In an online discussion called Invisible, David Whyte said, “You are always practicing becoming something.” Day in and day out, I am doing things. Wherever I am investing, my time is my practice. That is what I will become. It is what I am. Whatever it is that we value or choose to be identified as, we must invest our time and efforts into it.

Am I skipping laps and cutting corners? Am I practicing the right way? I am practicing becoming something, is that something what I want to be?