What To Do When the Season Implodes
- Coach Dave
- 19 minutes ago
- 3 min read
Why working harder is not always the answer
15 years ago I decided I wanted to come back to running. For the previous few years I’d been playing Rugby League—at an age when I probably should have known better!!! When I started training to sprint again, I had lofty goals: I wanted to run at my first ever Stawell Gift… at 43.
However… reality hit fast. My body wasn’t used to the load, injuries cropped up, and life kept getting in the way. Some weeks I’d be perfect with training, other weeks I’d miss sessions and feel like I was starting from scratch. My plan was ambitious, but it didn’t always match what I could actually do. And yet I kept feeling that harder work alone would fix it.
Here’s the ironic part: at the time, I was coaching masters athletes. I already knew all the principles—consistency, realistic goal-setting, monitoring progress, adjusting programs for life and injury. But applying that knowledge to myself? Totally different. Suddenly all the things I’d been teaching my athletes for years—the small nudges, the adjustments, the structured check-ins—became much harder to follow. It’s one thing to see it clearly in someone else; it’s another to live it when it’s you on the line.
I survived that first season—only just—but it was a slog. There were weeks when I questioned whether I had the discipline, or even the body, to make it work. I could have doubled down, pushed harder, tried to force my way through—but experience told me that approach would break me faster than it would help me.
That’s when I brought in a coach and mentor into my own training. Not because I didn’t know what worked, but because I needed someone to keep me accountable, to remind me to apply the same standards I had been applying to my athletes for years. Small adjustments—nudges on training volume, realistic goal-setting, structured check-ins—made all the difference. It wasn’t about working harder; it was about staying consistent, following the plan, and trusting the process.
Over the next few seasons, I trained around what my body and schedule could realistically handle. I measured progress, adjusted for injuries, and made sure my goals were ambitious but achievable. That approach didn’t just protect my performance—it changed the experience of training itself. Workouts felt purposeful, not punishing. Gains came steadily, and setbacks became temporary, not season-ending.
The biggest lesson? Seasons implode not just because of missed sessions or minor injuries—they implode because we ignore the small, subtle things that shape consistency and effectiveness. Inconsistency, unclear intent, unrealistic goals, and a lack of measurement compound quietly until the season feels unrecognizable. Even when you know the right principles, it can be almost impossible to apply them to yourself without guidance.
Having someone to hold you to the standards you already understand can make a massive difference. It’s not magic—it’s perspective, accountability, and early course corrections before small cracks turn into big ones. For masters athletes, especially those balancing life, work, and injuries, that kind of support can be the difference between a season that sputters and one that actually delivers.
Looking back, that first season back taught me something - it’s a lot easier to know the right answer than to live it. And sometimes, even a coach needs a coach.
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