Hanging Up Your Gear: Life After College Athletics

Hi everyone,

Today’s post is dedicated to the ones that put everything they had into their college talent, and feel a bit disoriented about their identity once they cross that honorary carpet and get the diploma in the mail. A hint: it’s NOT all downhill after the “glory” years. You’re still a boss. Just a different type of boss.

Let’s go over some immediate positives from college athletics retirement:

➳ Those nagging shin splints or your suffering shoulder will finally get some time off. You might actually be able to go on a hike without complaining to your friends to carry you because of that four hour match the day before. Maybe that’s just me though.

➳ You will have free time to do your other hobbies. All of the things you put on the back burner in order to get 45 minutes extra of sleep before that alarm went off, you can now do. Your mind could be blown here.

➳ You have time to have a job and make some income. I’m not condoning rushing into an immediate job post college to fill your time, I’m referring to any part-time position that you’ll have fun with and meet a new crowd. A tip though: maybe try to branch out from talking about your gym routine, what you ate that day, or how you’ve mastered incorporating yoga clothes into daily wear from experience. Sometimes people want to talk about other things.

➳ You can TRAVEL. As someone who is planning trips to Iceland and other destinations on the bucket list with savings I’ve accumulated, I think about how I couldn’t train and also take time off that much due to the fact that my sport was year round.

➳ You have complete control over what you wear (bye team uniform), what you eat (shout-out to Red Robin french fries once a month), and where you go (getting home at 5 AM). I’m not saying go crazy and ruin your good habits, but you can live a little. If you were doing this already in college, well, congratulations.

➳ You can experiment with your time and interests and start to think about your future outside the classroom. I’ve been graduated since summer and haven’t been in the classroom since May, and I’m ok. I appreciate my college education because it was amazing, my mentors were incredible, however, you learn the big stuff when you’re actually out in the world. It doesn’t have to be scary just because it’s more real.

I’m not going to lie to you, I miss the competition. I miss winning an amazing match and feeling so proud of myself after for how hard I worked. I miss the feeling of motivation to do better next time when I lost. I miss the adrenaline. But I gave myself a couple weeks, not months or years, to sulk a bit before I told myself it’s all about perspective. You’re not just good at one thing. You did that sport a major service for four years, and now you can embrace something else.

Tennis isn’t technically meant to be a team sport, yet there I was every day in a team setting. I like to work alone (yes I know that’s not always a good thing to say), but I’d rather be honest about it. I played doubles through college and only really liked it one year with a particular partner (Frankie Katafias!) but I made it work because I loved representing my school. I didn’t have the perkiest school spirit, but one of the best things is being appreciated for hard work. And I worked my a** off.

I haven’t played tennis since May, and I haven’t been keeping up with the Slams because I’m not completely ready to look at tennis without studying it for technique. I’ve put my dedication into other things that I want for myself, things that bring me a similar motivation. Tennis gave me a mental release most of the time, and it got me to college and kept me super focused to achieve my optimal potential in the classroom. It gave me drive and persistence. I won’t ever take that for granted. But it also gave me a major feeling of being burnt out. Towards the end of it all, especially after getting a taste of being abroad fall semester of senior year, I got unfocused. I started to drift to other things, the other interests I’ve always had. It was just time. And it was still hard, but a lot of things have to have an expiration date.

Looking back on it, the little things that made college athletics great wasn’t just my performance. It was my professors and mentors genuinely wanting me to exceed in both settings and watch me grow through the years. It was the development of time management and drive. You develop these skills along the way that truly will benefit you once you’re graduated, and I advise you to focus on those and not the fear of what will happen when your routine changes.

We all make choices. If you’re reading this as a soon to be graduated (or graduated already) college athlete, you will be okay. In fact, you’ll have an advantage if you keep your head on straight. When you go into interviews, mention how you’re different because of college athletics, how it shaped you. Not because of the stats, but because of you.

You’re more than your college talent.

You’re more than the stats on the wall or the end speech at your last performance.

Don’t believe in peaking. Because you never have to.

Much love,

–  Kelly

College Expectations Unsaid

You heard in high school that college would be the best four years of your life. Let’s the discuss the major flaws in this statement.

What’s on my mind: What you don’t expect from college. The uncensored, unedited version of that educational environment you spent a previous four years staring at a GPA and preparing standardized test scores for.

We go through life often looking forward to a future result. We plan ahead, we set goals, and one of these goals is often where we attend college, and what we will study when we get there. But what happens when you actually get there? For me, I completely resent the idea of saying college was the best four years of my life. I’d like to consider it a trek for the better, a battle won for myself.

Life after college is not a set path, there is no universal option. There are opinions, expectations, social norms. You might want a pet chamelion as opposed to a dog, you might not want kids, or a van, or a big kitchen. You might not want a permanent postal address. And this is okay. Whatever it is, you build on it after you leave the college security blanket.

Rather than write out the reasons why I personally reject this statement, here’s a different format:

You’re doubtful in

your steps on the way to class,

Or your choice to stay in.

You second guess

Your surroundings,

Your purpose,

Your point of view.

You slip from optimism to the open-ended,

As you stare at numerical figures

To represent your worth,

Your capabilities.

You think of the real world,

And how you’re not a part of it,

As you muster up hypothetical elevator talks,

And convince yourself you’ll turn a corner

In a week,

In a day,

And everything will make sense,

Exactly as you planned in your

Decorated journals

And proudest essays.

Yet you are finished,

You hit a milestone that

Was meant to be an overpowering

Revelation,

That has only brought you uncertainty.

Four years flew by,

Without your conceding.

You chase something else,

Something to fill the gaps,

That widen as you struggle down

the honorary carpet.

The truth: The best years are relative,

Limiting you from pushing the bar,

From being amazed at small details,

Engrossed in still moments,

Appreciate what you have yet to do.

You have so much to do,

Darling,

Don’t sell yourself short.

xx – Kelly