I’ve written a lot about my 13-year-old daughter being a competitive swimmer. She’s now training at the highest level for our swim club after having achieved her first sectional cut in August. What that means right now is that she has 21 scheduled two-hour practices between Dec. 19 and Jan. 5.
Last week, as she was getting ready for her second practice of the day, my father-in-law said that he thinks her practice schedule is “too much.” He said he doesn’t think young kids should be pushed so hard. I would agree with him if we were pushing her. I might even agree with him if I thought her coach was pushing her. But SHE is the one who wants to be present for 21 practices. SHE is the one who decided about a year ago to up her weekly practices from four per week to five or six per week. SHE also is the one who started seeing the results in the pool as her times began noticeably dropping. And as she matured, her mental game matured as well — she began reading about her sport, learning more about nutrition, hydration and dry-land training, and practicing mental racing strategy before meets. She started listening more attentively and incorporating more thoroughly the suggestions of her coaches.
But things weren’t always that way. My DD began swimming competitively at age 6. And the first five-plus years of her swimming “career” looked much different from her swimming commitment today. When she was in our “bronze” training group, several of her friends got moved up to the “silver” group ahead of her. Her father and I didn’t pound on the coach’s door, demanding to know why she hadn’t moved up with her peers. We knew why. When her friends were swimming laps to build endurance, she was taking bathroom breaks. When her friends were doing the drills to improve their strokes, she was swimming to the bottom of the pool and pretending to be a dolphin. But once her friends got moved up ahead of her, she had a new motivation. Still, it was for purely social reasons that she kicked things up a notch in order to advance.
As my DD progressed through the next two levels of our swim club, she practiced three times a week, and we often had to insist on that third practice. We had to remind her of her commitment and suggest rewards for attendance (i.e. getting to go to travel meets) and consequences for skipping (i.e. NOT getting to go to travel meets). Some of her peers were practicing five days a week at that point, and I even heard of 9- and 10-year-olds who were practicing six days a week. Maybe we could’ve made our daughter attend more than the minimum practices, but I wonder what purpose that would’ve served. Certainly, her practice ethic showed at swim meets. She didn’t embarrass herself, but she wasn’t at the top of the pack. Sometimes she made the relay, sometimes she didn’t. She bore the natural consequences of her time, or lack thereof, at practice.
Now, at the age fo 13, the threat of not “letting” her attend a swim practice is just about the only discipline my husband and I have to use to reduce backtalk, improve sibling relations, or motivate the completion of chores. She just WANTS it.
According to this article, by the time girls reach age 13, 70 percent of them will quit soccer and other team sports. Maybe those 13-year-olds were pushed too hard at the age of 8, 9, or 10? According to a CNN.com interview with Cal Ripken Jr., “seriousness occurs naturally in a sport.” He also encourages parents to “just allow the process to unfold.”
Don’t get me wrong — my husband and I have made our mistakes when it comes to being swim parents (and when it comes to being parents in general, for that matter). We’ve failed to hide our disappointment when she adds time at a meet, even when the coach told us it would happen. We’ve tried to “coach” her before races, even though neither one of of us ever swam competitively. We’ve compared her to other swimmers, despite advice not to do so. But we’ve also learned a lot along the way. We’ve got some great “role model” parents in our club — parents of older children who have learned the fine art of supporting their young athletes. We’ve also got great coaches who offer up words of wisdom, like “Do you know realize how many other swims your son/daughter is going to have between now and the end of college? That (DQ, missed race, etc) is no big deal.”
So I guess my amateur answer to the “how much is too much” question is this: It’s too much if you’re having to push your child to do it. And I think most parents who say their children “need to be pushed” are probably fooling themselves. That’s like saying a child needs to be pushed to play. Certainly, a child may need to be pushed to finish schoolwork or chores. But a child should enjoy his or her sport. I agree with Cal — seriousness occurs naturally in a sport. If that natural progression is allowed to happen, then I believe there is less likelihood of burnout.