The Importance of Teaching Risk Taking

I found this poster as I was cleaning. Most people wouldn’t look at a picture of themselves cross-dressing as a defining moment. For me it is one of many.

 

I was coaching a girl’s travel soccer team that year. Falmouth had a very competitive soccer program and I served on the soccer board.

 

My daughter had made the “A” travel team and they already had a wonderful group of coaches.

I decided to help coach the “B” team with my friend Steve McDavitt.

 

Steve played soccer in college and had the perfect personality for coaching young women. We were in deep agreement that a positive win in a moment is a positive win for a lifetime.

 

We celebrated every great effort and every successful moment.

 

As a dad, and a person, I’ve always felt it was important to teach kids to take risks, embrace life and not worry about what others think.

 

This helps us all to be present in the moment. 

 

During that fall as Steve and I devised interesting drills and cheered loudly from the sidelines we were rewarded with many life fulfilling, humorous moments. 

 

During our last regular season game we were not hustling. At half time I challenged the girls to simply give their best effort. In that present moment, I told them that I would dress up as a female cheer leader for our first playoff game if they lived up to the challenge.

 

Their eyes lit up and the giggling started. It is amazing how effective a coach or a mentor can be when they positively challenge their athletes while taking on a nonconforming risk.

 

As I suspected their individual pace and effort to the ball increased dramatically. The cheering for each other increased and when we made a substitution the athletes would simply ask if they hustled enough.

 

We didn’t win the game, but we won the moment. As we discussed the game and talked of the playoffs the next weekend, I rewarded them with the news that I would be coaching dressed as a cheerleader because their collective hustle and effort was terrific. 

 

They erupted in cheers and excitedly ran to their parents to let them know the news. There may have been some mixed reactions from the parents but Steve and I didn’t receive any negative feedback. We just saw and heard a lot of laughing.

 

Janet Bruen was an alumnus of Falmouth High school. Her daughter, Mary played for the “A” team. When she heard what I was planning she offered her classic 1970s Falmouth High School cheering uniform and pompoms.

 

If you are going to take a risk and be authentic it is important to go all in. Now that I had the “uniform” I just needed a little lipstick, makeup, earrings and pregame focus.

 

I told Steve to do the pregame drills and I would come running on to the field just before game time.

 

I dressed at home. When I arrived at the field, I sat in my car with my 7 or 8 year-old son Sam in the backseat as I applied my makeup and lipstick.

 

There were a few good doubletakes from parents who noticed as they arrived for the game.

 

The players continually asked Steve where I was. He acted like he wasn’t sure. 

 

About five minutes before the game I told Sam to go to the sidelines. After he was by the field I took a deep breath, opened the door and took off running toward the field screaming “Go Falmouth” in a high pitched voice.

 

Instead of running straight to the team I took a lap around the field, stopping in front of parents and fans to perform a “Will Farrell” type cheer.

 

There were certainly some bewildered looks from some parents. The majority simply laughed and cheered. When I ran to the team they all came to meet me cheering and laughing, ready for the game.

 

If this was a Disney movie script we would have kicked the winning goal in overtime. 

 

We hustled and lost.

 

What I hope Steve and I achieved during that season was to simply build self-esteem and the idea that we all need to take positive risks in life to enjoy it fully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

College Admissions Scandal

The recent college admissions scandal hit close to home for me. My son Brandon graduated from Georgetown University, one of the schools implicated in the scandals, and currently coaches there.

It reminded me of Brandon’s own process in getting into Georgetown, and how deeply he cares for the student-athletes he works with.

From kindergarten through junior high Brandon did fine in school. Nothing special and no issue. He was a good, smart, athletic kid who cared much more about sports than school. While we always repeated the mantra of the importance of college, there was no big push for any particular school -- other than the unrealistic thought, on Brandon’s side, that he might go to Duke simply because he loved Duke basketball.

At the beginning of Brandon’s freshman year, he chose running cross country over soccer. His team won a state championship and he began to develop into the record-breaking runner he would become.

The thought of earning a college scholarship -- and being able to get into the college of his choice -- began to take shape, which impacted the importance of grades and selection of classes for Brandon. 

He realized he had been placed in a lower level science class and advocated to be moved to another class. Knowing this, his time and focus on school increased.

His grades improved to honor roll level but nothing close to being a top-level student.

After playing basketball his freshman year, he decided to focus on running year-round and he continued to improve.

He avoided parties where drinking was involved, went to bed early and started thinking about schools he could attend. Duke was still on his list.

As an enthusiastic and caring Dad, I also started reaching out to schools to “market” my kid to the coaches of the schools Brandon was interested in -- and some that he wasn’t. They included William & Mary, Villanova, Stanford, Oregon, Brown, Boston College, Georgetown, Providence, Duke and others.

During a wonderfully successful Junior year, where Bran led his school to state championships in cross country and outdoor track while also setting state records in the indoor 800-meters and outdoor 1600, the idea of actually attending one of these schools became a reality.

Part of Brandon’s strength and weakness was his ability to focus and not care what others thought. When his high school college advisor asked to meet with him, he kept telling her where he was going to go school and she kept telling him he didn’t have the grades or SAT scores to get in. He refused to meet with her.

In the spring of Brandon’s junior year we went on a family trip and visited Georgetown, William & Mary, Duke and Villanova.

Brandon immediately bonded with Georgetown coach Pat Henner and by the end of the trip, Brandon had made up his mind that he was going to go to Georgetown.

We had his transcripts sent and I continued to contact other coaches. Once the July 1  deadline passed where coaches could contact Brandon, the calls started coming in. Brandon wasn’t interested in talking to any coach other than Pat Henner.

On one memorable night the UCONN coach called right around 9 p.m. Brandon was in bed. He was irritated when I told him the coach was on the phone and said, “Why is he calling so late?” I snapped back and told him to just get on the phone.

In a less-than-polite exchange on the phone, Brandon told the coach he was going to attend Georgetown and hung up the phone.

When I asked what the coach had talked about Brandon said, “He wants a miler and says he has scholarship money for me.”

“Then you need to talk to him,” I insisted.

“I’m going to Georgetown.” was Brandon’s response and he quickly went back to bed.

The next day I called coach Henner and explained that Brandon was turning down scholarships, saying that he was going to Georgetown and I needed to understand the actual process and money available to Brandon.

Pat explained that he had taken Brandon’s transcripts to the admissions office and he was supporting Brandon’s application. He assured me that he was using one of his spots to get Brandon accepted, but that Brandon had to improve his SAT score by 50 points to meet the GU minimum.

He also explained that Brandon was not receiving a scholarship and could earn one over time. The burden of payment would be on his mom and I, and financial aid.

That night Brandon and I had a long heart-to-heart. I was pushing hard to get him to talk to other schools and looking into getting his college paid for with a scholarship.

It wasn’t an easy discussion for a father and son to have. Finally, Brandon said “Dad, you always told me I could go to any school I got accepted to.”

I’m a passionate, honest and deeply caring dad. When those words sprung from Brandon, I simply had no choice. He was right.

We hired a tutor and Brandon studied to take the SAT again. This time he increased his score by 75 points and met the standard for Georgetown.

From that point forward, whenever anyone asked about school we said Brandon was going to Georgetown University.

Of course, friends and others reacted very positively that he would be going to such a prestigious school.

That spring we waited for the official acceptance letter as Brandon’s friends started reporting where they were going to school.

Late in the spring, coach Henner called. I handed the phone to Brandon and watched as the blood drained from my 17-year-old son’s face . When he got off the phone he said “There is a problem with my application. The college counselor wrote in her letter of recommendation that she didn’t think I could handle the academics at Georgetown.” Yes, this was the counselor that Brandon had refused to meet with.

As my heart sunk and the anger rose, I listened while Brandon explained that he would have to write a letter to GU explaining why he felt he could handle the academic load. It would go to a committee that would say yes or no.

Because of Brandon’s focus and determination get go to GU, he had not applied to any other school.  Panic and disappointment in myself as a parent also ensued.  “How could a kid who did everything right get screwed like this?” I thought.

Brandon wrote his letter and his mom heavily edited it. We sent it in and waited.

Finally, coach Henner called. Brandon was not in …yet. He would have to attend Georgetown for five weeks in the summer and take two classes. If he passed with at least a “C” he would be accepted.

Of course, we would have to absorb the additional $5,000 in cost.

I’ve never seen Brandon look so lonely and overwhelmed as we drove him to GU, bought his books and moved him into an off-campus apartment.

The only funny moment was when we bought his books: I realized that we had just purchased more books, for only five weeks of classes, than Brandon had probably ever read in his life.

He called home every night and we would talk for a long time. With no other freshman taking classes he was alone, lonely and bored.

At the end of five weeks he came home and shortly after, we found out that he had passed his classes and was officially accepted at Georgetown.

My wife’s mother passed away early that spring and we used her life insurance inheritance to pay that first-year bill. In following years we took out and co-signed loans.

Brandon’s leadership skills were evident to coach Henner early and when Brandon became a senior, he was named captain and earned a scholarship.

After graduation he became a graduate assistant coach at GU and then left for two years to coach at Syracuse.

He returned to GU in 2013 and has become the head coach of men’s cross-country team, and also coaches indoor and outdoor track. His student-athletes have had some amazing accomplishments over that time with nearly 60 All-America designations. He’s had six athletes break four minutes in the mile, and has also led the Hoyas to four straight Big East cross-country championships.

His biggest accomplishment has been to be there for all his athletes of various backgrounds. He knows how hard it is to get into to GU and how tough it can be to adjust once you are there. His own process and experience helps him be a better coach and person.

I think you will find this with most of the coaches at GU.

Pete Bottomley's Induction Into the Maine Running Hall of Fame

Yesterday my good friend Pete Bottomley was inducted into the Maine Running Hall of Fame.

I was honored to introduce Pete and talk a little bit about his wonderful individual running accomplishments.

What is clear is that Pete's proudest accomplishments and deepest friendships came from running for Dirigo RC.

Pete has always been a person who doesn't talk about their own accomplishments and he only told a few friends he was being inducted.

When I was introducing Pete, I was surprised by how emotional I became. Running has had a deep positive impact of me and my children, so I guess I should have known that would happen.

When I was done speaking Pete walked up, shook my hand and gave me a big hug. I stepped aside and as Pete stepped to the podium he said, "You weren't supposed to make me cry." Of course, that's when my eyes really started to well up and I stood there with my arms folded across my chest holding myself tight so that I didn't start crying.

As expected, Pete didn't talk much about himself, but immediately said that, "The reason I chose Cameron to speak is because he is a great friend and I've known him a long time and he lives and breathes running, like most of us in this room, but it's really in his DNA."

This is the point when I started hugging myself hard and my mouth started to quiver. Then he mentioned that Kourt and Bran were college coaches and told the story of Sam's long journey from trying to break eight minutes in the mile in high school to now being able to run a marathon under eight minutes. Then he pointed to Sam, who was sitting at our table, and said, "So Sam stand up!" Sam shyly stood up while the crowd applauded, and I hugged myself a little tighter. "The room is full of inspiring people and you are one of them." Pete said over the applause.

He went on the thank the folks on the board of the Maine Running Hall of Fame for setting the event up and Jim Toulouse for doing an analysis of Pete’s Beach to Beach to Beacon accomplishments. The analysis shows what an incredible runner Pete has become when you use “age-graded analysis” of his performances. Pete used this information in his self-deprecating way to make fun of himself for “being a slacker” in his younger years.

He spoke with reverence about fellow runner Todd Coffin “jump starting” Pete’s career in 1977 when Pete, as a JV runner, watched him “float around” the cross-country course, winning and inspiring Pete to want to “run like Todd Coffin”.

The best part of the speech was when Pete spoke of his wife, Marlene, and her support of his running dreams. When he looked at her and thanked her for being his best friend and “adventure partner” for the last 37 years, you knew it was heartfelt and true.

Not once during his speech did he mention any of his own accomplishments. He simply pointed to others who inspired him and that is one of many reasons that Pete inspires me.

Sam's First Marathon

Sam just completed his first marathon. His goal was 3:30 which equates to 8:00 minute pace. As a freshman in high school his goal was to break 8 minutes for one mile. Sunday his was trying to do that for 26.2 miles. Kourt helped with coaching and planning. Brandon had a recruiting trip that allowed him to be in town so the three is us were able to be be Sam’s support team.

Sam and I got to the course bright and early on a very cold, rainy morning. Pretty soon Kourt and Bran we’re calling to see where we were. Big races can be chaos to try and meet. I dropped Sam with the things he needed and Kourt and Bran met him at the starting line to grab his warmups and give him last minute encouragement.

My job was simply to get to mile 8 and 16 to hand him GU for energy. I took off to find my way through blocked roads and detours.

I was able to get close to the 8 mile marker but the volunteers weren’t sure what mile marks they were volunteering at.

I settle in at a very cold spot and waited while Kourt and Bran called to complain about the same issue.

I went online to track Sam but the online tracking was down so I stood at the imaginary 8 mile mark and waited. I was afraid I’d somehow missed Sam and anxiously squinted to see if I could recognize his stride. The group running 3:20 passed. Then the group running 3:30 passed. Next the group running 3:40 passed and I was sure I had missed him. Suddenly, I saw this tall, strong, smooth runner and I started screaming his name and encouragement. I ripped open the GU packet and handed it to him as he threw his baseball cap to the ground.

It seemed that he was way off pace.

Kourt, Bran and I connected by phone and decided to meet at the 16 mile mark. They took an Uber and I drove. Fortunately they was a discount liquor store right at 16 miles. I bought some beer, used their bathroom and waited for Kourt and Bran to arrive. Once they arrived we started the Sammy count down. We saw the the 3:30 group pass and then the 3:40 group. Like the supportive, sarcastic dad I am I looked and Bran and Kourt and said, “ Should we call an Uber for Sam?”

Quickly, Sam appeared in the distance and again we all started screaming encouragement. As I stood with his GU in my hand another runner tried to take it. After letting him know I wasn’t an official I handed the GU to Sam. Then Kourt, Bran and I jumped in the car to get to the next spot.

As coaches Kourt and Bran were concerned with Sam’s pace.

We were able to weave through back roads to somewhere around 20
miles. Kourt ran a half mile or so and reported that he was strong and doing great. With his slow early pace we were estimating 3:32 to 3:33.

At the next stop about 2 miles down the road Sam had moved up significantly again. We all yelled encouragement and this time Kourt jumped in to run with him.

Brandon and I got caught in traffic at a stop sign and kept checking in the rear view mirror to find Sam and Kourt. Suddenly, there they were. Sam’s face was focused and he was running faster than he had the entire race. As I like to say “he was cranking along”.

Kourt jumped in the car with us. She was excited as she explained that he was “fucking killing it” and that he wanted to focus on his own for the last 2 miles.

At this point we knew he had a shot at breaking 3:30.

We screamed our last words of encouragement and then slowly worked our way through traffic. I dropped off Bran and Kourt, parked the car and hurried to the finish line.

Kourt and I found a cold, shivering, exhausted Sam and immediately asked him what his time was. He slowly lifted his arm and pointed to his Garmin...3:29:50! Of course Kourt and I exploded with congratulations and Bran arrived a couple minutes later to join the celebration.

Sam reach his goal with the help of love, support and encouragement but the real story is his personal odyssey to change his physicality and be fit and healthy. Within the race itself he knew how his body and mental process would work best in his race approach, even when two college coaches and his dad doubted it. When he needed to focus the most he was able the reach within and find more. That’s called grit.

He has a wonderful story to tell of the overweight teenager trying to run 1 mile in 8 minutes who can now run 26 in a row.

Congrats to you Sam. You inspire me every day.

As a writer it is time for you to tell your own story and help inspire others.

My Funny, Wonderful Grandmother

I remember my grandmother as a vibrant, funny and smart woman willing to expose her own foibles in hysterical stories about herself.

She always made me feel good around her and the self-effacing stories she told became part of my own personal mantra.

She was staying at our house in the winter of my eighth-grade year when I went streaking in front of the K-Mart in Falmouth, Maine. She was the first person I told, and she laughed delightfully, surely realizing that a cold winter’s night is not the time for a male to go streaking. Thankfully there were no cameras or social media.

One of my favorite stories she told me, highlighted her resourcefulness, openness and off-color sense of humor and performance.

Gran and Me. I think I was about 16. 

She was shopping for clothes at a department store in the 50’s or 60’s. Back then, many stores made you pay to get into the bathroom stalls. You would have to insert a nickel and sometimes more and then turn the handle to use the toilet. As the urge to use the restroom on this day hit Gran hard, she rushed to the ladies room, to find it was a pay toilet. Rummaging through her pocket book she found that she didn’t have any change.

Thinking quickly, she decided that even though she was dressed in a skirt, she would lay on the ground and try to scoot under the bathroom door. As she worked her upper body under the door her rather bulbous butt got stuck. She struggled mightily but only managed to get herself stuck more securely, feet flailing as she lay on the floor wondering what to do next.

The only option was to work as hard as she could to push herself back out from under the bathroom stall door. By now, tired and desperate to pee, she began for force herself back out while her dress caught and slowly moved up over her bottom.

Her panic now was less and about peeing and much more about someone walking in!

Finally, her skirt untucked, and her body moved quickly across the floor. She scrambled to her feet, straightened out her skirt and as she caught her breath, that overwhelming urge to pee came flooding back.

Looking around quickly she saw the bathroom sink. At least you didn’t have to pay to use that!

She immediately pulled down her underwear, hiked her skirt and jumped up on the sink to finally relieve herself. Ah, what a moment of satisfaction that must been!

Fortunately, no one came in and Gran was able to pull herself together, wash her hands and go back to shopping.

When she got home from her shopping trip she couldn’t wait to tell my grandfather the story. As she finished her story, Gramp simply scoffed and didn’t believe she did or would do such a thing.

Still wearing the same skirt she went shopping in, and standing in the kitchen, my grandmother reached down, dropped her underwear, hiked her skirt and jumped up on the kitchen sink and peed again.

This time my grandfather believed her, and I doubt if he ever doubted her again.

Celebrating Our 50 Years at Camp

I was fortunate to be raised in a family in which my parents loved each other and worked toward common goals.

In the mid-60s as my dad pursued his career as a town manager and my mother began her teaching career they found that they had a little extra disposable income.

For the past few years they had rented a cottage in their hometown of Surry, Me. for a week in the summer. The joy and connections they received from that experience convinced them that they should purchase their own cottage.

In 1968 they found a modest “camp” of 2X4 construction, built in the 1940’s on Crescent lake in Maine. The location allowed us to spend our summers there with my mother, while dad commuted to work in Falmouth.

I don’t know if my parents had the forethought to know what would happen to their children as that simple purchase changed the course of my life and the lives of our neighbors and friends.

Over the last 50 years my sisters, my kids and the families in the camps around us have shared rich experiences and created bonds and personal histories that will last forever.

I met my lifetime mentor and friend Steve through the camp and I really can’t fully explain how he and his family had an amazing impact on my life.

With this in mind, I decided to host “The 50^th Celebration of the Bonsey Camp”. I invited the surrounding camp families and friends who had visited the camp over the years. My one request was that they allow me to videotape their story or stories of how camp impacted them.

Once everyone had arrived we huddled around our picnic table and grill, drinking beer, eating hamburgers and started to share our stories.

After my daughter, Kourtney told her boisterous story if getting caught streaking, at night, by a father in a neighboring camp, everyone seemed to laugh, relax and tell their story.

My sister, Lorna’s stories revolved around the crush she had on Chunky as he sat behind her laughing and enjoying the attention and the acknowledgement that he still has great hair.

By early evening I had recorded dozens of stories full of love and humor. I uploaded them all to YouTube, “unlisted” them to make sure I didn’t embarrass anyone and shared the link with them all.

Years from now we’ll still be able to listen to those stories right from the mouths of those whose experience it was.

Nothing gets better than that.

Celebrate the Dick in Your Life

My ex-wife and I decided to get a divorce in 2006 during my daughter’s sophomore year and my youngest son’s eighth grade year. Our oldest son was attending college.

It certainly wasn’t an easy time but we did our best to protect the kids and not bring them into end of relationship issues until we had them worked out ourselves.

We stayed in our house together and Kim would sometimes leave to visit her current husband Dick.

In the early spring we knew we needed to sit down with the Kourt and Sam to explain exactly what our plan was. I had already explained to our oldest son, Brandon that we were getting divorced when he came home from school earlier in the year.

When Kim and I called Kourt and Sam into the family room to talk they certainly knew that something serious was about to be discussed and of course they were intuitive enough to understand that life for the last few months had not been normal. Of course, anyone who knows my family knows that we have never been what the average person would consider, normal.

Kim and Dick Enjoying the Celebrate the Dick in Your Life!

Kim and I took our time and explained that we were getting a divorce and that we were also selling the house. I’m not sure how long that discussion took but when I felt we had discussed what was appropriate, I said, “Do you have any more questions?” Sam, who was always funny and irrepressible as a kid said, “I have something to say.

He looked directly at me and said, “Dad, find somebody hot.” Then turn to Kim he exclaimed, “Mom, don’t marry a Dick!”

In what could have been a deeply sad emotional moment, I burst out laughing giving a knowing look to Kim. Sam didn’t realize just how funny he was being in the moment but I loved it. We segued into eating ice cream and our divorce process began.

Kim would get a job working for Georgetown University, marry Dick and we went about the process of living our lives and treating each other with kindness and respect. Life was different but we still had kids that needed to come first.

Kourt, Sam and I stayed in Maine and Brandon would come home on school breaks and summer vacations. We had to sell the house and we moved almost every year to a new house or apartment. We even spent a year living with the kid’s childhood nanny, Jill.

In 2011, after my credit had “healed” I began to look for a house to buy. Sam and Kourt were both attending the University of Maine and Brandon was coaching track and cross country at Syracuse University.

For the first time I was able too really think about where I wanted to live and what type of house I wanted. My requirements were simple. Live as close to the ocean as financially possible and have some good local bars to frequent. I was lucky to find a modest ranch located behind some rundown summer cabins in Kennebunk. I knew it was the right house from the moment I stepped inside because the layout was open and felt kind and warm.

That first summer my kids had a wonderful time. Kourt and Sam found jobs in the Kennebunkport and Brandon came home for several weeks.

Immediately we opened our house to Kim and Dick. It is only three bedrooms so I always gave them my room. The first time they stayed there I short-sheeted the bed and one time I put our wedding picture above the bed. They took it in stride and we all got a good chuckle.

By 2013 we were having summer parties together at my house and in 2015 we started naming the parties and we even ordered pink tank tops with caricatures of Sam and Kourt drinking on my roof to celebrate their bachelor and master degrees.

In 2016 we celebrated Brandon’s 30^th birthday calling it the “30 for 30” and with Sam being nicknamed “Ders” based on a character in “Workaholics” we named his 25^th birthday celebration “The Quarders”.

While brainstorming for the 2018 party I realized that Kim and Dick’s 10^th anniversary would be occurring and Brandon’s friend Brian and I decided to call it “Celebrate the Dick in Your Life!”

We announced our plans at the “Quaders” as I explained the name of the party to everyone and let them know that we would celebrate my 60^th birthday in 2019 and call it “Celebrate the Dick in your Life” for a completely different reason.

We had a wonderful time telling friends and family about the “Celebrate the Dick in Your Life”. Most people simply laughed and then couldn’t believe that an ex-husband and ex-wife can have such an open and funny relationship.

For me it has simply brought people into my life that I never would have known and allows our children to enjoy both parents at the same time, without angst and with a great sense of love and laughter.