I threw 58.40 meters, my shortest mark of the year, although only about 80 centimeters below some of my other difficult competitions. My shoulder had been bothering me for the last few months, my preparation was inconsistent, and physically I knew I was not in the same shape I had been earlier in the season. I guess these are excuses, but also facts.

Still, I am glad I competed.

The meet gave me a chance to look back at the season and think about what I can learn from it, both as an athlete and as a coach.

Why Did I Compete?

My wife Mattie is usually my North Star on these things. In the weeks before the meet, she questioned why I was competing again. She could tell I was tired and hurting, and I knew she had a point, but didnt admit it!

The answer was simple. My college coach, Coach Wallin, had asked me to compete.

Coach Wallin was the throws coach at Dartmouth College, my alma mater, for 40 years and had an enormous impact on my career. He helped shape my belief in myself and my love for the sport. When he asked me at a September competition if I would come back for the final meet, I committed.

That realization gave me one of the more meaningful coaching lessons of the day. After all these years, I trust Coach Wallin enough that I know if he asks something of me, I will probably learn from it, enjoy it, or contribute something worthwhile.

As a coach, I have to ask myself whether I have developed that level of trust with my athletes. I am not sure I have yet, but it is something worth pursuing.

Making the Most of a Difficult Day

Physically, I did not have much to work with. My shoulder had progressively become more irritated over the previous couple of months, with a burning, tendonitis type feeling that sometimes kept me awake at night. Once I warmed up, it usually improved, but during this competition the early throws were painful.

When my shoulder does not feel right, the rest of my technique changes. It becomes harder to set the legs, lead with the hips, stay sideways and allow the arm to come through later. Instead, everything wants to happen at once.

I was probably struggling to throw 55 meters in warmups, so getting to 58.40 during the competition was actually a small success.

More importantly, I enjoyed myself. There were some excellent Masters athletes and a couple of high school throwers competing. One of them, Micah, threw roughly a seven foot personal best. Congrats to Micha! I had dig deep to pass him on my final throw.

I stayed positive, tried to bring energy to the group, and did the best I could with what my body gave me that day. There is value in learning how to COMPETE well even when you are not capable of THROWING well.

I Was Out of Javelin Shape

Looking back, the larger issue was not what happened on competition day. It was what happened during the weeks and months leading into it.

Earlier in the year, particularly in May and June, I had much better general athletic fitness. I was running, sprinting, jumping, throwing balls, performing Olympic lifts, and completing more general strength work.

By the end of the season, much of that had disappeared. This is what I mean when I say I was out of javelin shape.

For me, these qualities are not separate from javelin performance. They give me the physical capacity to hold positions at speed and put pressure into the ground without hesitation.

When I lose those qualities, the throw begins to feel like everything is happening at once.

Coaching Lesson #1: Start With the Competition Calendar

This reinforced something I want to emphasize more with my athletes: the competition schedule and training plan need to be designed together.

We do not have unlimited energy. An athlete cannot maintain high training volume and intensity month after month while also competing frequently and expect to remain fresh indefinitely. Eventually, productive hard work becomes grinding.

If an athlete has an important championship, I want the training plan to create the physical preparation necessary to arrive there ready to perform. That may mean putting substantial work in one or two months before the championship and training through less important competitions.

It also means we cannot arrive at that important training block already exhausted from five months of trying to be in peak shape.

The goal is to find the balance between fitness and freshness.

Coaching Lesson #2: Loss of Discipline Is Information

Another important lesson came from my mental state. Toward the end of the season, I had trouble focusing. My mind wandered more. I had an increased urge to check email and social media. During training, I wanted to mix things up rather than patiently follow the plan.

I have seen the same pattern in athletes. As fatigue builds, warmups get shorter. General strength work starts disappearing. Athletes take more unnecessary days off or start adding random things because they want training to feel different and exciting.

When an athlete who is normally consistent suddenly cannot concentrate on basic training, I think coaches should pay attention. Rather than simply demanding more discipline, it may be time to look at total training load, recovery, motivation, and the length of the season.

For me, the answer is usually not something new. It is often some combination of rest and returning to the basics. Do the warmup correctly. Run the tempos. Complete the general strength work. Cool down. Breathe while you stretch. Stop searching for something more exciting.

I was at my best as an athlete when I was most disciplined.

Six Meets Were Too Many for Me

I competed six times this year from June through October. For where I am in my life now, that was too much.

The season was too long physically, but it also did not match my priorities. Traveling to competitions takes time away from my wife and family, and competing frequently is simply not important enough to justify that tradeoff.

Next year, I want to try something different. I would rather get myself into excellent general athletic shape, choose one meaningful competition, put it on the calendar, and build toward it.

That creates a little more pressure, but I think that makes it more exciting.

Can I Still Throw 70 Meters?

I would love to throw 70 meters before I turn 45. Part of the attraction is seeing where that would put me historically among Masters throwers, but the distance itself is not my biggest reason for continuing.

This season showed me a possible path.

My approach improved significantly, particularly my rhythm and posture. At times in practice, I hit positions that may have been better than anything I achieved earlier in my career.

My old habit, however, is still there. At higher intensity, my upper body tends to become involved too early. When I was younger, I had enough shoulder mobility and arm ability to save some of those throws. I cannot rely on that anymore.

Next year, I need to arrive at my target competition with my general fitness at a very high level and my throwing arm in exceptional condition.

That preparation will require carefully periodizing some of the tools that have worked well for me, including 2 kg ball throws and 900 g javelin throws. Those exercises can be extremely effective for me, but they are also demanding.

Doing close to 100 moderate ball throws per week in August and September probably contributed to how my shoulder feels now. The lesson is not that those tools are bad. The lesson is that dosage and timing matter.

The Real Reason I Still Throw

A 70 meter throw would be gratifying, but I am realizing that there is another reason I continue doing this.

This year, I did not always do that particularly well. I gave in too often to the urge to do something different, add something, skip something boring, or chase the immediate reward rather than patiently following the process.

That may be the most useful lesson of the entire season.

Next year, I want to exercise my discipline muscles again. I want to prepare deliberately, choose the right competition, build the physical qualities I need, take better care of my arm, and see what happens when I arrive on that day truly prepared.

That process will make me a better athlete, but I think it will also make me a better coach.

And fortunately, javelin is still a lot of fun.