There have been many times in my life where there was good and bad leadership. Whether it was in a classroom or playing sports, leadership played a big role in my life.

I was able to watch the leaders throughout my life and learn from their good ideas and bad mistakes. According to Jim Collins, in his book GOOD TO GREAT, there are five different levels of leadership. The leadership is ranked from level 1, being the most common, yet least effective leader, to level 5 which is the most effective. It isn’t until level 5 leadership where a leader really stands out.

These are the rarest group of leaders. Level 5 leaders build lasting greatness. They tend to blame mistakes on themselves when something goes wrong, and value others when things go well. These leaders have no ego and put their company before their selves. I can relate the idea of five level leadership to the leaders I have grown up with in my life. They mostly consist of players and coaches on sports teams. I played football my whole life and throughout high school. I had witnessed the culture of our program change from when I joined the team as a freshman, to the last game of my senior year. Throughout the years I played, I was able to identify the type of leadership that went on.

Because of the leadership, the program went from being one of the best to one of the worst.

On this team I was able to identify level 1 to level 4 leadership. The level 1 leaders were the players who sat on the bench, but helped make practice effective. Theses players used their little amount of skills to contribute to the team. The level 2 leaders consisted of the players who started on the team and played the most. These players used their capabilities to achieve goals for the team. They were the ones out on the field winning the games. The level 3 leaders where some of the players who labeled themselves as “captains”.

The captains led the stretching lines and spoke at team meetings, but some of them weren’t respected by other players. Captains who were respected and had players believe in them were the level 4 leaders. They were helping the team build a culture to become better. Their teammates wanted to play for them. Level 5 leadership was attempted but failed by the Athletic Director of the school.

This mistake inevitably caused the program to nosedive.

Our head football coach became Athletic Director when I was a junior in high school and put us in a harder division. Our team was playing harder teams and each year we kept losing talent. This caused the team to lose more games and less students wanted to play. Players started to not show up at practice and because we were a small school, it didn’t look good with the program. I would consider our coach as a level 4 leader because he cared about the football program and wanted it to be a great one.

He made people believe that he can make the program strong, but his ego took over, and his self–interest of wanting the program to be more than what it was caused it to fail. If he was a level 5 leader he would have put the program back into the weaker division, but his ego got the best of him. He was unable to take the blame for the mistake and do what’s right for the team.

I believe that if our coach drops his ego and turns the program around, he can potentially become a level 5 leader. He is an alumni of the high school and grew up in the town. He cares about the team and its reputation because he has been coaching for over 15 years.

Level 5 leaders are usually found within the organization and that is where he comes from. This will be difficult to achieve though because there is less talent on the team and the amount of players are diminishing.

Maintaining a healthy lifestyle is vital for your overall health and wellness in life. The way that best fits for me to do so is through conscientious routine and consistency.

Since 2012, when I went on my first International competition outing in Puerto Rico, I kept a training log to monitor my progress. I started this log to have a form of accountability for myself when my coach (Dad) wasn’t around. This log consisted of everything from how my mood was that day, the weather, and how fast my intervals were or how many miles I ran. I also logged how I felt emotionally because in the sport of track and field, I believe the majority of it is mental.

I found that even if the log did nothing for me, it was a consistent routine of self-reflection. When analyzing areas within yourself in which you desire to change, it is a good Idea to keep track of how you feel and what the aspects of it are so that you can attain your goal and monitor progress. My training log is also psychologically vital to my overall health because in high school when I didn’t always have others there to talk to during stressful home life, I was able to shut my door, focus on my reflection, and vent anything that was bothering me onto paper.

Even if I didn’t ever reevaluate the log that I wrote for the day, it was good to get it off my chest so I can sleep better and prepare for the next day of work.

At the top of each page of this college ruled composition book I wrote a statement or quote to live by for that week. I often wrote my goals in this space as well, that way I keep them fresh in my mind and constantly remind myself of them so I do not lose sight.

Reflecting on my past, physical activity has had a huge impact on my life and without it, I do not know where I would be today. My upbringings weren’t all that great, I lived in 23 different houses, and attended 10 different schools up until I was 18 years old. I come from a very low (if any) income household with 6 siblings and a total of 9 family members under the same roof.

I lived in a very stressful environment with a dysfunctional parenting style being one that my parents never agreed upon anything.  The dysfunctional relationship between them had a negative impact on our family atmosphere. Overall, there was a lot more to it than just them arguing. Their un-agreeableness and their lack of financial support led to many problems within my family life that were very challenging to cope with at a young age.

Luckily there was no alcohol or drugs in my household but there was unhealthy amounts of control and mental abuse.

Ultimately, my “norm” was one of pure chaos, stress and agony. Exercise for me, was an escape of my reality. It allowed me to exit the building of pain which I lived in at home. It gave me hope, it restored my emotions, my attitude, my stress levels and my spiritual well being.

That’s when I found that running, to me was much more than just a competition or a leisure activity that most people do simply to stay in shape. I found the love for exercise through my unhealthy home lifestyle that I was trapped in yet I could escape it in two ways, my dreams, and my running.

At a young age I knew I was in a place in my life where I was unsatisfied, and I wanted change. My biggest dream was to travel the world and do what I love. What would be better than doing something that you are gifted at, and earning a salary for it? I did not know exactly what that would look like but I knew I wanted it. I knew traveling the world is very expensive, so how could I possibly travel for free? Seems impossible.

Hope is how, Hope is how seemingly impossible things become possible.

The way that I was able to make that transition to change was that I had an endless amount of focus on my dreams and visions because I wanted it more than anything. I thought about being great every single day, not a time passed when I wasn’t thinking big, imagining myself being great, and one day being free from stress.

After years of running consistently, I was able to develop quite a skill for something I did for fun. I have a competitive edge that flows through my veins and whatever the activity may be whether its back yard basketball or a friendly game of kickball, I wanted to win!. I started to see that I have special abilities that come to me more naturally than others, this is when I found my true self, I found hope for my future, I found my vision.

Self-belief was a huge factor to maintaining not only a healthy lifestyle both physically and mentally, but having a small minuscule amount of hope can go a long way. I often think of quotes that motivate and inspire me and one that I came up with is “If you take a simple word, give it direction and purpose, it can go a long way.” So I would think of simple encouraging words and phrases that are uplifting and I gave them purpose and direction. “Bailey you CAN succeed” “BELIEVE in your abilities” “TRUST in your training.”

What I mean by this is through various forms of self-efficacy, self-assessment and monitoring self-progress, there is a lot more to maintaining a healthy spirituality than it may seem. I developed my self-confidence through positive self-talk, trial and error, and testing my abilities by pushing my limits on the track and in life. I would climb trees, go exploring, run up the wall and do a backflip, breakdance, ride a unicycle, walk along tall and narrow fence lines, all of which are random skills.

Whether it be learned or natural that I incorporated into my arsenal of abilities. I just let my true identity speak for itself.

Once I compiled and established all these random skills. I was able to realize that all these activities that seemed purposeless actually played a huge role in who I am today. Little did I know that the more back flips I did, the more trees I climbed, my desire to explore, create, and accomplish allowed me to form a foundation.

From my adolescence, my abilities, visions and mentality have exceeded my physical age by being aware of my surroundings. I am very observant and constantly learn from my experiences. I learn from other people’s actions, people I’ve met, places I’ve been and the things I’ve seen. With that being said I have always been good at forming my own ideas and goal setting. I know exactly what I want, and I work backwards from that to my current situation and develop a plan of action.

My dreams of going to college, running on team USA, and becoming financially independent for example would not have come if it weren’t for my focus and determination. Factors that I took into account on a daily basis such as nutrition, sleep, hydration, preventative maintenance activities, and positive reinforcement were those of which I focused on in order to achieve my goals.

I was so focused on my goals that the big picture was much more beautiful than instant satisfaction of leisure activities. I would rather be getting the right amount of rest needed to perform well in my next interval session than to be staying up late at night with friends. In our society, it is very easy to give up on your dreams if you’re not careful.

“There is always going to be an option to give up, and there will not always be a reason to keep pushing.”

Too many things in my life atmosphere were telling me to give up, quit, stop trying so hard, the odds are against you but I would never quit, so I did the opposite. Deep down inside of me there was that will to succeed that outweighed anyone’s negative remark or doubt in me because the most important aspect is that I believed in myself more than anyone could ever doubt me. I believe that if you’re going to do something at all, might as well give it 100%. I’m not sacrificing my whole lifestyle to be mediocre, I am in it to be great. Those were some words that I lived by in all areas of my life.  None of the less, I stayed focused and accountable to myself through monitoring my progress in my training log and stayed consistent throughout because consistency is key in this game.

My dad always said, “Son, if you want to be so great, you need to master the small things in life and the big things will come easier”, this gave me a perspective that changed my life. All the small things I did such as stretching, ice baths, rolling out, and getting a good amount of sleep allowed me to be ready for the tough challenges I faced in both running and in life. It is not always what you go through or experience in life, it’s how you handle them that shapes who you are.

Another quote that my dad always said was, “Small successes are the stairway to great performances,” this was a reinforcement to my self-confidence because I was setting myself up for success not failure. He always believed in me 100% and with that, my outlook on this had a huge impact on my performance because I did not fail, I set realistic goals, and I attained them. If I exceeded my goals whether short or long term “icing on the cake” as my dad would say.

Throughout my upbringing of struggle, I was able to become resilient to adversity. Through the various places I have lived and the exposure to real-world environments have allowed me to form the ability to adjust. As simple as that may sound, I consider it one of my finer qualities because without it, I would not be able to cope with the amount of stress and overload that my body withstood.

Running has allowed me to maintain a healthy stability throughout any form of hard ship I have encountered and meet my goals regardless of the situation. I am a survivor and I use that to my advantage when I need to adjust to a new environment, situation or place in my life. I use my survival instincts to fuel the fire for my success. Instead of letting stress get the best of me, I make it work for me not against me. I apply my developed resiliency to maintaining a healthy lifestyle and focusing on my priorities.

I am currently a sophomore in college, living my dreams and enjoying a healthy lifestyle.

Because I never gave giving up a chance.

I’ve traveled to multiple foreign countries, I’ve won national championships, I’ve crushed national records and I’ve won a Pan-American gold medal. Little did I know that this all came from a little hope, a little boy with a big dream. From staying focused and monitoring my steps of self-planning, I’ve been able to consistently attain a healthy lifestyle. With my competitive edge and my will to succeed, I am always looking for avenues to improve on within myself.

Being a sophomore now, I have adjusted to the life of being a D1 student athlete and it is quite tough to balance all that entails. With that being said, I constantly monitor my progression and still keep a running log to this day. I have come up with ways that I can better myself through evaluating areas in which need improvements.

I started a “Life Log” a few months ago that allows me to keep track of my priorities, goals and steps of action because the journey to the ultimate goal is how the goal will eventually be attained. Each day I set time out and use my Life Log as an accountability check that forces me to prioritize what is important and allow me to stay focused. Even if it 5-10 minutes and a few sentences of reflection, it keeps me in check with where I am, and where I want to go.

I choose to prioritize this plan of action so that I do not allow any negativity that I can control to affect my life. I have control of my current life situation as a student athlete, and I have big goals. I’m going to keep continuing to use these methods to allow the big things in life to come easier from the mastery of the small things.

Bailey’s Recommended Resource for other athletes: 

Running for My Life by Lopez Lomong

Lopez Lomong is a big inspiration and one I have had the chance to meet in person. He is a Nike sponsored US Olympian who grew up in Sudan during the Sudanese Civil War. He inspired me to never lose hope and even when there was no reason, to keep pushing.

In 1867; a certain Isaac Newton, still trying to dodge falling apples, was working on the 3rd law of motion – ‘For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’ I’d like to discuss how this law worked for me, by giving me as much energy and inspiration to fight a disease that took so much from me.

But first, it’s only fair that I shed a little context on my life leading up to my depression diagnosis. When I was 10, I endured a life changing battle – one that I’m so proud to say I’ve won, but in no sense unscathed. My life up until November 2004 was, in search for a better word, easy. I had excelled athletically; with the physical strength of a boy that lived life to play football (soccer in your language) and run up mountains (Something that I did once to the despair of my dad, whose screams became all too distant to notice).

Then, on the first week of November I was ill. I writhed around in agony on the sofa for the better part of a week, having been diagnosed with gastroenteritis (a viral stomach bug) by a trainee doctor. Unfortunately, he made his diagnosis majorly wrong. As I lay there twisting in pain, my appendix was ready to rupture and change my life.

The next conversation I had with a medical professional went like this:

“Calum, the anesthetic hasn’t seemed to work yet. I’m going to have to put this mask on you to put you to sleep. Count down from 10 for me will you” “10…. 9….. 8……7…………”

My eyes closed, not to awaken again for another week. Unbeknownst to me, I had suffered peritonitis due to 2 litres of poison ripping through my body like a pinball shooting around a machine, smashing into healthy organs and cascading around me. My body couldn’t cope and shut down every organ (barring my heart and brain) whilst I lay there in a coma; able to hear fragments of my parents conversations and prayers but without the consciousness and physical ability to respond.

The following year was nowhere near as hard for me as it should have been, due to the most incredible family and friends. I will value their unequivocal love and support forever. From the moment I woke, the life I once knew was history and I had been shunted onto a new path.

This new life required me to learn how to speak and swallow again. I had so much muscle damage that it took me another week to build enough strength to turn my head and raise my arm.   Over the years, through physiotherapy, I’ve reached a stage where I can walk again and participate in life without many obvious impediments.

However, such a life altering moment wears down on you.

Like attrition, life chipped away at my resolve. At the age of 17; these small stones of not being able to play sports to the ability I once could, embarrassment of my situation, and the added pressure of fulfilling a life I felt fortunate to live, had carved a hole in me. It had worn me down and knocked me into a deep dark pool with no ladders. It had knocked me into depression. Being a naive kid that had never suffered from any signs of poor mental health, I did what too many people in my situation do.

I convinced myself that it’s just a phase and woke up every day, opened the wardrobe and grabbed another disguised face of happiness to wear. It wasn’t until late 2015 that I forced myself to visit the doctor, and received an official diagnosis. Sometimes in life, moments come along and you think ‘That’s changed everything’ these moments may include: Hearing the unimaginable beauty of Daft Punk for the first time. The first taste of Ben & Jerry’s that leaves you contemplating the meaning of Ice Cream.

For me, the diagnosis was one of them. I turned to Newton and realized that if this depression had been dragging me down for 4 years, then there’s at least 4 years of energy that I’m going to use to not only beat this illness but to completely obliterate it.

Step One

The first and arguably the most profound benefit of being diagnosed, was that it separated me from my illness. Up until that point, I thought my mood was as intrinsic to me as the birth scar on my neck, or my inability to perform tongue twisters.

Discovering that depression was an alien illness that had not only invaded me; but was making itself at home in my head, sipping a cup of tea whilst flicking through Netflix documentaries, gave me something to fight. It’s hard to fight a battle when you think you’re the enemy. Recognizing that depression wasn’t a fabric of my life, but more of dirty piece of cloth that had attached itself to me, I decided to reconnect to a former depression-free version of myself.

In a sort of premature mid-life crises, I began immersing myself with things that I had based my life around as a child. I started cycling again, surrounded myself with books from ranging from Fiction to Historical Fantasies, Memoirs to Classics, all in an attempt to rediscover what made me happy. I believe this to be such a vital aspect of maintaining a happy lifestyle. For one that is so simple, it’s often overlooked.

Whatever makes you happy, do it, do it as much as you can because the main person you’re responsible for keeping happy, is you.

For any True Detective fans out there “Life’s barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at” – Rust Cohle Matthew McConaughey’s nihilistic and detached character delivered many pertinent life lessons in True Detective, but this one grabbed my attention to most. Life is short, and if you can only master one thing in life, make sure it’s something you truly believe in.

Step Two

Use the resources around you to help others, and yourself in the process. I’m fortunate to be studying Marketing Communications & Advertising at Sheffield Hallam University – located in England. Sheffield is a great place, full of students and brimming with people that want to work collaboratively to end this mental health crisis. The depression I suffered with, gave me the inspiration to use my marketing modules to help break down the stigma attached to mental illness.

I, along with a team of students, have been working with a local mental health charity to redesign takeaway boxes, which incidentally are as familiar to students as krill is to whales. The new boxes (With different stick faces, catchphrases and colors on them) are designed to surprise and amuse students, encouraging them to share pictures online and using marketing to build awareness for the great work that Mind are doing in Sheffield.

Secondly, I’ve had the pleasure of working with the University ‘Social Enterprise’ team, to raise funds for a new concept. The concept (Cafe Branches) would be a local cafe that employed mental health practitioners to sit with and aid customers that wanted an informal chat about their health. In a similar-to-Uber style app, customers could choose their guide and see what debates and lectures were taking place.

Step Three

I became my own biggest fan. Imagine that battling depression is like a boxing match. It’s been a hard fight and you’ve taken some fair blows, you’re tiring and struggling to keep your breath after 8 hard rounds of sparring. The bell rings and you go back to your corner, sit on the stool and wait for the sweat to be wiped away from your brow. In jumps the trainer, but instead of Paulie (Rocky Balboa reference), it’s actually you, re-energising and demanding that you believe in yourself.

‘It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep on going etc etc’. Big yourself up every day, be biased, be encouraging. It doesn’t matter how trivial it is. Sometimes I give myself a pat on the back when I choose the perfect song to listen to, or even when I add a new word to my vocabulary. Constant self appraisal is the perfect antidote to the self-loathing and self-ridicule I used to partake in when I was at my deepest points, and I attribute it to my sanguine (Giving myself a pat on the back for that one) attitude now.

So back to Newton; if his law states that for everything in life, there’s an equal and opposite force, then I believe depression brings with it the tools to defeat it. Depression can rob you of the happiness you once thought was your default setting, so go back to the very things that brought you that happiness. Depression spreads false rumors and doubts in your head, so do the opposite and big yourself up as much as Kanye does (Just maybe not as publicly).

“You will never make it,” “You need to play club,” “You’re only a show-off.”

As the engines started to roar and the giant metal bird started to take flight my head spun in a million directions. My time had finally come to leave home and move abroad to embark a new challenge; against all odds. I started to grin, I had proved everyone wrong. I went against the current and decided against what everyone told me and stuck to my own believes.

I knew that my path to D-1 was harder by going my own way, but that is what felt right for me not what others said. I knew I would get to American University and my playing time would be almost non-existent my first year because of my decision but that’s what I wanted to do. However, the offer arrived and I grasped it with both hands and there is no way I’m letting others push me back for not listening to them.

All those negative remarks from back home are what push me every day to push through class and my training, followed by study hall and gym time. I want to be the best I can, to be able to prove everyone wrong and show them I wasn’t a showoff as some labeled me.

I got to DC it hasn’t been any different from what I envisioned, the team has flown to Florida for the first game if the season and I wasn’t named on the roster. Although I half expected I wasn’t going to travel with the team, it was still a hard pill to swallow. It left a bitter taste of agony inside. But the saying goes, it isn’t about how many times you fall but how many times you stand up and keep moving forward. The difference between being considered a player or legend is all the work done behind the scenes no one can see.

That is what is going to get me on that field and prove that I deserve to be there.

I might not play this season at all or maybe I will, I don’t know. But one thing I do know is that it won’t be for lack of effort. Someone can be better than me or more talented but no one can try harder than me.

I have battled against forces pushing me back and negative influences all my life and got to where I am today. So I won’t let one more negative feeling push me down. Instead this will be the drop that turns the glass and makes me become the player I know I can be.

This will be what pushes me to be great.

Growing up, I always had these dark spots all over my body.

My skin was sensitive to anything. I would always pick at my scabs on my legs and arms or even scratch my mosquito bites. At one point I got chicken pox and my skin got worse than ever before. More dark spots started appearing on my skin and my skin looked horrifying.

People always asked me as a little kid why or how I had some many dark spots on my skin. I would always tell them the same thing, “Oh it’s just mosquito bites.” All of their responses would be the same, “Those are a lot of mosquito bites.”

Everywhere I went, people constantly asked me about my dark marks. After some time I started to feel embarrassed, ashamed, and ugly because of the dark marks that appeared. I stopped wearing shorts at a young age and wore more pants and capris.

I thought that would fix the problem with everyone asking me where I got all of my dark spots from.

In elementary school, many of my classmates made fun of me for my dark spots. They called me a Dalmatian like it was a fun nickname. I never told my parents or siblings about the remarks because I didn’t think they could do anything about it.

One day in middle school, I got the courage to wear shorts, but that was a big mistake. The questions started coming from my teachers and classmates about my dark spots. They would ask “Does it hurt?” “How did you get so many?” and “What caused that to happen?” I just started to feel embarrassed again and I finally went to my mom because I was tired of the people always asking me about my skin.

I went to a dermatologist and he gave me a cream to help fade away my dark spots. After some time I could tell that the dark spots were starting to fade, but the cream wasn’t too healthy for someone my age.

I stopped using the cream and didn’t have anything else to use. I officially lost all confidence in myself. I didn’t think I was pretty because I didn’t have skin like the rest of my classmates.

When I started running track in 6th grade, I still paid attention to my legs, but my main focus was to be the best on the team.

I would wear long pants all the time because I didn’t want my teammates or the people in the stands to see my legs.

Eventually I couldn’t wear the long sleeve stuff anymore because it started to get hot outside. During one track meet, a lot of my teammates asked me about my skin and I gave them the same response I gave everyone. “It’s just mosquito bites.”

I hated having people come up to me about my skin, but at that meet I was so angry that I used all my anger in my race and won. After a while, I started to just put everything I had into track.

I was still self-conscious about my arms and legs, but I was more focused on winning. I started to progress over the years in track in middle school and started to fall in love with the sport.

Track was my escape from everything. It was my main focus.

As I got in high school, my self-esteem went even lower. Girls were showing off their pretty skin and all I would wear was capris so no one could see my skin. I still did not want people to look at my skin because it was ugly in my opinion.

I would wear short sleeve shirts and people still asked me about my skin. I didn’t think I would ever have beautiful skin like everyone else because I didn’t see any changes in my skin.

Even during track season I still wore long clothing as long as possible to hide my skin. Once it got hot, I always had to expose my skin, but this time not many people asked about my skin. I started to feel comfortable at track practices during my first year of high school.

I wore short sleeve clothing once my freshman year and I thought I made the biggest mistake because so many people looked at my skin with disgust and I just didn’t even want to be at school. After a while I just kept hiding my skin, but during track season I escaped from all of my problems.

Finally, during my junior year, I was known as the “track star” at my school. This boosted my confidence a lot. Many people did not pay attention to my skin, they paid attention to my talent.

I started to wear more short sleeve clothing.

Even though I still got questions about my skin, I didn’t care anymore. Nothing could take away how much recognition I was getting for track. My passion for the sport was steadily growing and I couldn’t be any happier.

I lacked confidence until my senior year. I was still known for track, but I started to drift away from longer clothing to shorter clothing. I was able to start using a product that would help my skin and I was actually seeing a change. Some of my dark spots were clearing up and training for track was going very well.

One person helped me a lot with building my confidence. He never questioned me about my skin and always made me feel beautiful no matter what. He never focused on my skin, but the person that I was. I am truly thankful that God has allowed me to meet such a wonderful person because he has helped me a lot with building my confidence.

I am a sophomore in college now and my confidence has only increased. I have been trying a lot of new stuff to help my skin and I am so happy that the products are working. I am going to my track meets feeling confident and the only thing on my mind is my race, not my skin or what anyone has to say about it.

If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self then I would. I would tell her to not lose her self-esteem about her skin, but to build confidence from it. Your skin is what makes you different from others.

No one looks alike, so why should you want to look like anyone else?

Flaws and all you’re still beautiful. Your imperfections make you the person that you are today.

God has created us all different for a reason and to look like someone else wasn’t his plan for me. My flaws have helped me realize a lot about myself. I’ve grown tremendously as a person and I am happy for my flaws.

I have embraced my flaws, because no matter what, in God’s eyes I am still beautiful.

A change in leadership can be difficult, especially when it is unexpected. In most cases, when a leader needs to be replaced their departure usually comes at an expected time. Usually.

Toward the end of my junior year of high school my football team’s head coach passed away unexpectedly. The news shocked everybody. It not only impacted the football team, but the school and the whole town.

The school had two problems to deal with. The first was to handle the chaos and sadness that surrounded the school. The second was to try to replace a leader. The first problem can be solved with time. The second problem is a more difficult problem to solve.

Replacing a leader is always a hard thing to do.

The school had to replace not only the head football coach, but also a teacher and an administrator. He was the football team’s only head coach in school history.

In his last season, he took the school to the playoffs for the first time in school history. His team was becoming a team that worked hard to get better every day. He was instilling a winning culture. The program was trending upwards and then it all came to an unexpected stop.

The process of finding a new head coach took about two months. There were dozens of applications from all over the country. The athletic department decided to promote the assistant head coach.

As the new head coach he kept most of the coaching staff. He found good replacements for the coaches that did leave. However, he did not continue the culture change. Despite being the assistant head coach and knowing the plan, he did not continue it.

It is understandable for a new coach to want to make a few changes.

But that first year, it seemed like there was no plan or sense of direction. The team didn’t feel as motivated to play for him as they did for the previous head coach.

The difference between the two head coaches was the level of leadership and their emotional intelligence. The first head coach was able to motivate players in different ways. He was also able to establish a relationship with his players that was similar to a father-son relationship. Players wanted to play hard for him.

The second head coach yelled at his players like his predecessor did, but the yelling didn’t have the same effect. And he failed to establish close relationships with his players. The players didn’t have the same desire to play for him.

The team made the playoffs this past season, which was the new head coach’s third season as the head coach. This may mean a plan is in place and a culture of winning is being established. The only way to tell is to judge the program by its ability to sustain success.

Change is hard. Changing a culture under a new leader is even harder. It involves implementing a plan and establishing a culture. Both of these things are easier said than done. But it all starts with having the correct person in charge.

I have always been very adventurous, outdoorsy, active, and energetic; I’ve been this way since my childhood. I became an avid runner and deemed most valuable player on my high school cross country team. Outside of school, I rode my bike, roller-bladed, traveled to the mountains to white-water-raft and the beach to try my hand at surfing.

I placed an extreme amount of value on new experiences trying new things. In college, I was granted the opportunity to study abroad twice- both times in London. While there, I visited Scotland, Wales, and Amsterdam of the Netherlands. I made some amazing friends, had some incredible cuisine, and had two true adventures of a lifetime.

At my United States University, I was living the all-American dream lifestyle. I was in an awesome program- Communication Studies and I loved most of my classes and teachers. I had two roommates that I considered best friends. I had a part-time job at The Gap and all of my co-workers became a close network of friends who did everything together. Oh, and did I forget to mention I attended college at the beach? Life was great, but I hit my prime the year after I graduated.

For a job, I became a brand ambassador and worked in sales and promotions.

It paid well, but it was very erratic and I was left with a lot of spare time. But that was the way I liked it. I became great friends with a very adventurous group of people- I had found my perfect companions. We played Frisbee golf every weekend, went zip-lining, skiing and snowboarding, jet-skiing, kayaking, hang-gliding- you name it. When I was outside or partaking in an adventurous activity, I was in my element.

About ten months into participating in these adventurous and outdoorsy activities, I discovered the long-board. Although it didn’t give the rush of flying three thousand feet in the air like hang gliding provided, long-boarding lent a new kind of adrenaline kick. For those of you who don’t know, a long-board is similar to a skateboard, but is made for cruising. My friends and I were long-boarding down roads, paved trails, and even parking garages. This new-found activity offered the most adrenaline I had ever experienced- looking back on it, I wonder if I was getting adrenaline mixed up with fear. But it was a new feeling and experience, so I was basking in its glory.

I had been borrowing a friend’s long-board, so the day mine came in, I couldn’t wait to break it in. I immediately called my friends and we hit the hills. In our boarding expedition, we came upon some new and uncharted territory. We all stopped and stared in awe at a steep hill. Not too much later, I hopped on my board nonchalantly, wanting my friends to think of me as bold and fearless.

I started the hill and went down a curve, only to realize the hill stretched on. The hill was longer and more daunting than I could have imagined. But it was too late now; I had already committed to it and was progressively picking up speed. I went around a second curve and that’s as much as I can tell you. According to my friends, I collected a bad case of speed wobble. Unfortunately, I could not recover, and what happened next started a new, foreign, and life-altering chapter of my life. I flew up in the air off of my board and came crashing down on the back of my head. Oh, yes- I forgot to mention: I was not wearing a helmet.

This is the part I find hardest to type because as much as people need to hear this story, I absolutely hate reliving it.

Where to begin? I had suffered a subdermal hematoma, or often called a traumatic brain injury. I spent twelve days in a coma. Upon waking up, I couldn’t walk and had no use of my left arm. I had a shaved head, no sense of smell, and a ventilator in my throat, making it very hard to talk. I spent two months in the hospital doing in-patient physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy. I had to learn how to transfer back and forth from a wheelchair to a bed. Being left-handed prior, I had to relearn how to feed myself. I had to relearn how to get dressed with the use of one hand.

I remember my family members wanting me to remain positive but realistic. They kept reiterating how lucky and very fortunate I was to not have suffered any mental deficits, but they also told me it was going to be a long road to recovery. Shock and denial kicked in and I chose not to hear them. I was going to return to my adventurous, care-free life in no time. I had only hit a little snag, but this would all be a distant memory. Not so much.

After being discharged from the hospital, I did out-patient therapy for a month. I then found a private physical therapist an hour away from home and I began to visit her once a week. My mom and brother rearranged their lives for me. They were at my beck and call 24/7. Thankfully, my mom was already retired. My brother took a semester off from school and they looked after me around the clock.

Two months passed and I graduated from a wheelchair to a walker. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, this was going to be a very long journey. I remember a specific time about six months after my accident. My family had taken me to Lake Johnson in Raleigh, a lake with a three mile loop trail surrounding it. I was still using my walker so I was a bit slow in my gait. We had only been walking for a few minutes when we came up on a slightly upward hill.

My mom and brother suggested we turn back and walk in the other direction. Ignoring them, I took two strenuous and unbalanced steps forward. Having only one hand available to hold the walker was making it all the harder. I stopped and looked around. There were two girls in yoga pants and tank tops jogging past and chatting away. I looked at their hair pulled up in cute pony tails and hearing them talk and laugh happily and carefree. I used to be those girls. I broke down, sobbing, as the realization finally dawned on me that I may never get back to running and being carefree.

Although I progressed and regained my ability to walk independently, life was still an everyday obstacle. I had been so physical in my past life and to have that aspect stripped away from me was almost more than I could bear. I went from having adventures, being in top athletic shape, and priding myself on my independence and efficiency to a disabled individual, having a difficult time even doing minute things such as getting dressed.

It’s been five and a half years since that tragic event. Let me update you: I walk better than I did, but I still have foot drop and I walk with a limp. As far as my arm goes, I still have very little movement. But that’s okay; I’ve made modifications as I learn to live one-handed in a two-handed world. I wear braces on both my foot and arm. I’ve finally learned to be grateful that my accident wasn’t worse. I easily could have acquired mental deficits, and I’m extremely thankful that I didn’t.

Whenever I get down, I just remind myself that the brain injury didn’t affect my memory, my ability to talk, and my capability to read and write. If I had suffered mental deficits, I may not have been capable of writing this story. I’ve had to work hard to gain back confidence under this new development. Yes, there are some things I can’t do, but there are plenty of things I still can do.

I’m still picking up the pieces of my life and putting them back together.

I set goals for myself each year and work hard to achieve them. This year’s goals: landing a full-time career and getting my driver’s license renewed. I turned my attention inward and started looking at work from home jobs. In the meantime, I applied for an internship in human resources with a virtual record label called Hit Records Worldwide. About six months into it, the instructor called me to inquire about another position I might like. It was in the marketing department, which was perfect as it was directly related to my college major. Working in that department for a year has allowed me to work my way up to Senior Regional Social Media Marketing Manager.

This internship has been extremely rewarding. We are working towards starting a non-profit called Getting Out Records, which will be an online community for foster care girls who want nothing more than to reach their goals of becoming music artists. I am very passionate about assisting these girls as I completely understand hardships and adversities. Some of the foster care girls my CEO has taken under his wings ironically long-board. I have spoken with them on the phone and have stressed the importance of helmet use. I think, or at least hope, that my story touched them and had some influential meaning.

My mom and I are writing a book about my journey and advocate for the importance of helmets. We see kids all the time biking and skating without helmets. I would like to educate them and tell them my story in order to make a difference in their lives. A helmet can make the difference in life and death.

I was extremely fortunate to have lived to tell. Since my accident, a lot has happened and a lot has changed. There have been very high highs and very low lows. There have been many laughs and many cries. Though I’ve suffered loss, I’ve still made gains. And though I’m limited in my capabilities, I’ve made many modifications and have still found a way to live life.

But most importantly, I’ve learned. I’ve learned to accept my accident and disability, and learned to move on and forward.

I’ve come to believe we choose how to play the cards we’re dealt. I’ve learned that it is okay to have bad days, but not to dwell on it. To try to be positive, and know that it could always be worse. I’ve come to believe that we are all on a journey of self-discovery.

In no way, shape, form, or fashion would I have believed that this is where I would be in my life right now. That being said, I now believe that this had to happen in order for me to end up where I do one day. This belief helps me cope and keep moving forward, knowing that this is only a part of my path. I don’t know what I’m destined for yet, but I do recognize that I had to go through this tragedy as a part of my journey. Perhaps I had to overcome this adversity in order to gain strength. Perhaps this strength will be put to use in the future.

I’m very hopeful that this will all be a thing of the past. They are making strides in stem cell treatment every day, and we are coming closer to finding cures. And perhaps I will not fully recover, but only partially. This will still be a good thing. However, I will always keep hoping.

Everyone is fighting a battle and undergoing a struggle, no matter how big or trivial. If you ever feel alone or feel like quitting, just remember that you are not alone and that there are millions of people trying to overcome adversities and underlying circumstances. We are all a team, rooting and cheering each other on through our trials and tribulations. We all are hoping that we can pull each other through the tunnels of darkness to see a sunnier sky.

So no matter how bad things get, just know in your heart that we are pulling for you. “Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.” Andy DuFrane, The Shawshank Redemption

Sports have always been my thing. I started playing soccer when I was three. It was my first love, but I never thought 19 years later it would be the reason I landed my first job.

Growing up, I was a tomboy and always wanted to spend my time around anything to do with sports. With a fitness instructor mom, a football coach father, and an extremely athletic older brother, sports were always happening around our home. SportsCenter was the show of choice in the Conklin household and schedules were always made around weekday practices and weekend tournaments.

Blacksburg, Virginia became home for me after a late recruiting process. My mom went to Virginia Tech, and as a little girl, I dreamt of playing soccer in the ACC for the Hokies. My dad knew how badly I wanted to be a Hokie, but we kept to what extent of it from my mom knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold it in.

I’ll never forget leaving Blacksburg after a soccer camp in 2010 crying to my dad in the car about how badly I felt Tech was the place for me. I didn’t know why. I just had this feeling and knew it was where I needed to be.

My recruiting process was interrupted during my sophomore year in high school when my dad was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer. Soccer was my emotional and mental outlet, but searching for schools fell far down my to-do list.

It became an even less important “to-do” when he passed away January 20, 2011 when I was a junior in high school.

My dream came true a few months later when I received a call from Chugger Adair, the head coach of Virginia Tech, on my way home from an indoor track meet. He invited me up for a visit on campus. I remember trying my hardest to keep my cool, but once I hung up, I screamed at the top of my lungs with tears streaming down my face. My mom did the same when I called her after I caught my breath.

I visited campus once more and committed on April 2, 2011. Five years later, I look back at my four years on the Virginia Tech women’s soccer team and truly feel like I have accomplished my childhood dream; the only thing I ever really envisioned as a child.

I earned a scholarship after my freshman year, we made it to the College Cup my sophomore year, and I earned a starting position by my junior year. I had an assist on my first and last games on Thompson field, and even as a defender, I scored a collegiate goal.

It was more than I could have imagined when I was that little girl just wanting to be a part of the Virginia Tech soccer team.

Five years later, I also look forward to a new dream that came to life during my time in Blacksburg, one that finally answers the question of why Blacksburg seemed so special to me when I was in high school. Yes, it is a special place. I think anyone who has ever visited Blacksburg, Virginia will tell you that there is something about it. And they can’t quite say what it is; you just have to experience it for yourself.

For me, Blacksburg is the place where my dreams have come true. Both soccer and my dream of being a sports broadcaster – neither would have been accomplished or put me on the path to accomplishing them if it wasn’t for the time I spent at Virginia Tech.

Since sixth grade I wanted to be an orthodontist. I love teeth. I had braces when I was younger and loved them. I also like working with people and loved the idea of being able to help people with their confidence through helping them with their smile.

That aspiration came to an end after my first semester at school.

I was a straight-A student in high school and got a C in the science major biology class, which was a required class. I would make sure I got 100’s on all my homework grades because I knew I was going to fail the tests. After making a four-year plan of the classes needed to graduate, I called my mom, believing I was having a premature quarter-life crisis and knowing I wasn’t cut out to be a science major.

Then came the real issue of having to figure out what I wanted as my major and what I wanted do with my life after soccer. I felt like a failure because all I knew was that I liked sports and working with people, but that’s just what led me to broadcasting.

My dad’s brother, also my godfather, works in an industry surrounded by professional athletes and celebrities. To this day I call New Jersey my second home due to all the time we spent visiting him as a child. Visiting him threw me into a world where all these professional athletes were around.

Through those experiences I was reminded that, at the core, they are just normal people. The time we spent around different celebrities made me comfortable interacting with them. Charles Barkley once told me and my brother he would kick our asses if we didn’t do well in school – see – normal.

After realizing how important it was to work with people and how much I l loved the sports industry, I decided sports broadcasting would be a dream career for me.

As an athlete, I know my story, and I know every single athlete has his or her own story. I love that – I want to share those stories.

I switched my major to Multimedia Journalism, and one of my first assignments was to interview a professional in the field I wanted to work in. As a member of the athletic department, I knew people worked to cover the Tech sports’ games but didn’t know who they were or exactly what they did.

I googled “Virginia Tech sports broadcasting” and came across Bill Roth’s name. I knew the legendary name Bill Roth, Voice of the Hokies, as he had called Virginia Tech football and basketball for 27 years.

I didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced student by reaching out, even though I was, so I emailed Andrew Allegretta. Andrew is the Assistant Director of Broadcasting and voice of the baseball and women’s basketball teams.

Little did I know that email would be the beginning of an incredible journey.

I learned Andrew was in charge of the student broadcaster internship through IMG at Virginia Tech. When we met, he explained that they call all the Virginia Tech Olympic sports games, so his students were the ones covering my games. My interest was sparked, but it was going to be somewhat of a challenge to find my niche.

Andrew mentioned they had not had women in the internship before. He thought I would be a good addition to their soccer coverage, but more importantly, he was willing to work with me to create opportunities. I mentioned I was interested in sideline reporting and we worked together to create that position for ESPN3 games.

To this day I am so thankful to him for helping me create a position that would give me the best experience possible.

I started in the internship in the fall of my junior year doing color commentary for the men’s soccer games on HokiesXtra. Then Andrew was brave enough in the spring to put me on my first ESPN3 broadcast – covering Clemson vs. Virginia Tech baseball. I’m not sure why he trusted me, but it was probably because he knew I had been studying every possible sideline hit and post game interview done by Samantha Ponder that I could find.

That brings me to today; I have worked four ESPN3 games as a color commentator for men’s soccer and women’s volleyball and over 10 games on the sideline covering all different sports such as softball, baseball, women’s lacrosse, men’s soccer, and men’s and women’s basketball.

I also worked with Andrew and covered the 2015 Virginia Tech spring football game. By far one of the most surreal moments of my short career was working that game and interviewing Bud Foster on the sideline in Lane Stadium.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they let little me cover ACC basketball and football, but I am forever indebted to the ones who trusted me enough to be out there.

After my senior season as a member of the soccer team, I really focused on post-graduate opportunities. As an ACC student athlete, there are opportunities within a post-graduate internship program called ACC Futures. There are six companies that hire ACC Futures Interns.

In order to get an interview, I had to pass the application round through my school and then once again through the ACC. By the time interviews came around I was one of 16 students interviewing for six openings with companies such as the ACC, the Orange Bowl, Fox Sports South, and Fox Sports Florida.

When I met with Fox Sports Florida, I knew they were one of my top choices. The job description was something that I was extremely interested in, and once I met with one of the producers within the company, I was hooked. We had a 30-minute interview and then a 15-minute break after the fact. I went into my interview a few minutes early and ended up missing my break because I was talking with them for so long.

One week later I got a call; they offered me a position at Fox Sports Florida as a production intern. At the time of the call, I was actually in San Francisco for Super Bowl 50 weekend with my brother and godparents. To this day, that was the best weekend of my life.

My story has highs and lows, but now I look back and know exactly why I cried to my dad about wanting to go to school at Virginia Tech.

Virginia Tech is where everything was made possible.

As for the future, I don’t know what it holds, but all I know is I am moving to Florida in a few months with an open mind and thankful heart, ready to enjoy the ride.

(Written by Kimberly J. August, Esq.)

This story is a snapshot of my Godson, Devon Gales, and the relationship he shares with his Godfather, Coach Gantt. This story is the inspiration for the book project they are working on about Devon’s life and injury; their relationship and the commitment to clinging to faith in the midst of adversity.

I have a snapshot of Devon Gales and Coach Bryant Gantt in my head that replays repeatedly like the reel in a silent movie. Coach Gantt is feeding Devon pecans. The vision of this in and of itself is enough to make me laugh uncontrollably, especially since I’m privy to the massiveness of Coach Gantt’s hands and the overwhelming UGA Championship ring he wears with great pride.

However, my laughter quickly subsides once I embrace the tenderness of the moment and how it came to pass. It occurred early in Devon’s rehabilitative process but it speaks volumes of the wonderful relationship between the two men.

Coach Gantt was asked to sit with Devon while we ran errands and he agreed.

While we were away, Devon decided to get a snack and he struggled with accomplishing the task but Coach Gantt, stepped in and feed him.

That’s my snapshot, Devon so vulnerable and determined; and Coach Gantt so big and strong; but sitting together sharing a tender moment filled with camaraderie, empathy and compassion. Devon comfortable with allowing him to help, not prideful or embarrassed; and Coach Gantt figuring out how to offer assistance without being emasculating.

Prior to this snapshot, for months I bore witness as men watched Devon struggle with mastering basic tasks during their visits with him at the Shepherd Center and their response was to ignore his effort and wait until the medical staff or a female caregiver intervened.

Never to help. Their hesitation grounded in sexism, culturalism, but mostly because football isn’t for wimps and their own inability to acknowledge their fear.

Nevertheless, Coach Gantt an imposing man looked past all that, stood in his fearlessness, and found the balance. And Devon met him without hesitation or reservation; and so their balancing act began.

They found common ground in a relationship that is more than Coach/Athlete or Mentor/Mentee.

They are forever intertwined and so connected that the relationship of Godfather/Godson seems a bit inadequate when I think of them together.

However, God is definitely in the relationship they share. Coach Gantt is old enough to be Devon’s father but is still a boy in so many ways because of his love for this game that is part battleground, part playground is able to offer life lessons to this man-child as he navigates the world.

Devon the eager student that absorbs Coach Gantt’s lessons like a sponge not realizing he is teaching as well. He is offering Coach Gantt lessons in courage, strength, and living a life that completes his worth. Their relationship will transcend time and it will bear fruit because it is strong and exists for a purpose bigger than itself, it exists for GOD.

Devon and Coach Gantt have challenged everything I thought I knew about faith, unconditional love, hope, and men.

Ultimately, the book we’re writing is the result. It is not only the story of Devon Gales and Coach Bryant Gantt but also the story of how GOD has hardwired us all for glory.

We all have the capacity to be a part of something far bigger than our own small existence. This book will inspire young men to be brave, believe, trust, and commit to something bigger than themselves.

I’m going to be perhaps a little too honest with you guys from the get-go. I never meant to start a business and I absolutely never considered myself to be an entrepreneur – that word alone scares the hell out of me. But here I am, writing this, trying to explain what it is exactly I hope to accomplish.

I’ve officially been out of the world of media – or should I say journalism since technically I still work in media – for about a year now.  It took me being approximately two weeks removed from the industry to realize that I missed it. Holy hell did I miss it.

Looking back, the 3 and half years I spent working in sports journalism were 3 of the most chaotic, challenging, frustrating, enthralling, and wonderful years of my life.  Good or bad – I wouldn’t change a single experience I had. Okay I maybe would have gotten in a few less Twitter fights and reacted quicker that time I got tackled on the sidelines (shout out to Ryan Switzer for my first concussion) but you get the point.  I would however, have appreciated it more.

The one issue I had with working in sports journalism however, was that I often times found it very limiting. I could only talk about certain things. I was only allowed to have an opinion on this, not that. I needed to “stay in my lane,” and after awhile it got too frustrating for me. I wanted to have a real voice, on real things and most importantly on my own terms.

So I started dijananotdiana.com (catchy title, I know) in hopes of getting my voice out there and showing fellow journalists they don’t have to be limited to one topic or field of journalism. Launching the website was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. In a world where everyone has an opinion on the Internet, I was terrified at the response I would get. And then … something weird happened. People were supportive, encouraging even, and they actually liked what I had to say. People read my articles and listened to my podcasts and suddenly I was a millionaire!

Yeah JK, that last part didn’t happen at all. I record my podcasts out of my closet. I write my articles after my 9-5 actual job and on weekends. I am one-woman team. Starting my own site was very liberating and exciting but it’s also a lot of work and pressure; mostly pressure that I put on myself. It’s a lot of pushing myself to the limit, giving up free time, and realizing it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

This is going to take time, patience and a lot of hard work – all of which you have to be willing to put in when it comes to being an entrepreneur.