As physical aspects of becoming a mom – bearing children – recede as a reason for halting an athletic career, another is emerging: Is it possible to be a top athlete and a good mommy?

Now that women can compete at high levels into their 30s and 40s – whether in golf, tennis, soccer, or basketball – female professional athletes get to engage the challenge working mothers have faced for decades: How do you do your job (honor your identity and passion) and still be an engaged parent?

This has long been the third rail of feminism. The fault line between employed mothers and “stay-at-home” mothers (all moms work) bumps up in daily life from the scheduling of school events (classroom volunteers needed 10:45-11:15: Who’s available?) to the matter of which mom has the most high-powered e-mail address or a calendar too jammed to send in paper cups.

If the Mommy Wars (and some argue it’s all imagined) have taught us anything, however, it’s that there is no single correct approach to being a parent. If the goal is to raise good kids and be involved in their lives there are many ways to do this – and do it well.

The very phrase “Mommy Track” has been tainted by the view that it is career-lite. But increasingly, making work flexible is a tool for keeping top talent — and it does not decrease intelligence, drive, or skill. Sure, some people multi-task better than others (but the argument that working moms are distracted misses all the work-day internet poker that can be equally distracting). Accommodating talent buys loyalty and quality work (or play).

How does this apply to pro sports?

Many athletes already have more flexible schedules (in terms of training) than many traditional professionals. Competition does present a particular challenge – but so do big presentations and conferences. The point: The schedule is workable.

The New York Times on Monday observed the falling number of LPGA golfers taking advantage of the tour’s Child Development Center while noting that superstars Lorena Ochoa and Annika Sorenstam retired at the top of their game, apparently to devote time to family.

Yes, there may be factors that explain this stat: 1) competitors are younger 2) competition is stiffer and 3) there is more international travel on the Tour.

But the matter for the LPGA – as for other women’s pro sports – is that it’s time to talk about quality childcare. Not good babysitting or ski-school-like people willing to watch kids while mom plays, but the sort of waiting-list-worthy early childhood education program (and well-advertised) that makes parents rave. Have a system of childcare so that whether you are in Illinois or Florida, there is continuity. Salaries and prize money matters. But so do benefits. Ironically, such an initiative could drive more women into pro sports – and keep them longer.

By Savanna Johnson

If you had the chance to run seven miles up and down a ski mountain, with walls, tunnels, water obstacles, and lots and lots of mud in your way, would you do it? How about if 80% percent of the field was men?

At the inaugural Tough Mudder event near Allentown, Pennsylvania, that’s just what I did. And it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

Conceived by Harvard Business School alum Will Dean to be “the toughest one day endurance race on the planet,” Tough Mudder comprised eleven waves of enthusiastic competitors, roughly 5000 in all ( including three tall men dressed as Na’vi!). Before each wave set off, we were required to shout the Tough Mudder pledge of teamwork and abstention from whining.

At 11 a.m., the first 500 runners set off down the steep grassy hill in a William Wallace charge. I was jazzed to be the very first woman off the starting line. Then came a very long, steep hill under blazing sun and a crawl through melting ice and snow. Next, we ran across the mountain and then struggled our way under 200 meters of cargo netting.

Down the mountain, we came to “Hold your Wood,” an obstacle that entailed carting a log up and down a small hill. Half the mountain later, the “Cliff Hanger” lay before us. Originally slated to be doused in water, the race director told journalists the night before that if this black diamond slope were muddied, “you would have to know how to levitate” in order to get up it. Another female competitor and I scrambled up this behemoth while grunting encouragements to each other. Hearts racing at the vertical exertion, we reached the top.

I hardly balked at crawling through a narrow fifteen-foot metal pipe to get to the water station on the other side. Down the hill we ran, and in the woods came to our first real chance at mud: the Swamp Stomp (through cold, muddy water).

Next was for me the most difficult obstacle: A classic military barrier which forced us to crawl on our bellies under 10-inch high wire. After arm surgery a month before, I’d barely worked my upper body, and I felt it as I tried to pull myself through the thick mud and long grass. Everyone else seemed to be going faster, and I struggled to catch my breath.

Finally up from the Kiss of Mud, I took off for the two-mile run along a narrow woods trail that lead out onto the lake, then the next six obstacles. First we navigated a rope bridge over a narrow offshoot of the chilly lake (the ropes sagged with our weight), then a surprisingly breathtaking bob under three rows of half-sunken barrels. Back on shore, we took a pirate’s plank plunge and swam back to land where we overcame four eight-foot high barrier walls and then a zigzag run up and down and up a steep slope to a gigantic slip-n-slide into the water.

Seeing the man dressed in a kilt and blue face paint who had been directly in front of me at the start line cheering me on after the slide, I had an extra burst of energy for the last half mile of the course. At 12:44 p.m., I ran through two closely-spaced lines of burning hay bales and a flaming half-circle to the sound of Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.”

Why did I do this crazy thing?

Because it looked like so much fun. I tested myself and came away totally spent, but with the memory of a day that felt like my birthday all day long. I also came to realize that even in events where the gender expectation is skewed one way or the other, with the right attitude and organizational ethos, all competitors can feel welcome, encouraged, and empowered.

That's me in the blue, heading up Heartbreak Hill

By Davi-Ellen Chabner

On this morning of the 2010 Boston Marathon, I‘m thinking about where I have been for the past nine years:  At the starting line in Hopkinton, wondering if I have it in me to run through pain and 26.2 miles to the finish line.

Why, one might ask, did I — at age 57, never a distance runner, not in the qualifying-time group, and on the heels of breast cancer treatment – decide in 2001 to run Boston?

In the summer of 2000, my daughter (who usually motivates me) had said, “Mom, you should start running again.”  I had run in the 1970s and 1980s, but stopped after knee problems and followed that up with 20 years of non-aerobic activity on the golf course.  So my husband and I entered a 5K race supporting “Friends Fighting Breast Cancer” for the Massachusetts General Hospital Cancer Center.

By some great fluke, I came in first in my age group (50 and up) and was handed a huge trophy! At that race, the woman organizing a Boston Marathon team for MGH approached me to join them. I was doubtful about accepting the challenge. I had never run 10 miles, let alone 26.2!

So, why did I say “yes?”  Looking back on that decision these are my thoughts:

– Growing up in the 50s and 60s when there were few opportunities for women to play sports. I had wanted to be “in training” and do something extraordinary athletically. I saw the marathon as a great challenge and that chance – even at 57.

– Of course, I also wanted to convince myself that I was still strong and healthy, even after surgery and chemotherapy for breast cancer.  I thought about other women who had faced serious illness and wanted to prove something for them as well.

Bottom line: I was passionate about the challenge and not afraid to put myself through the grueling training, including daily runs in winter cold and wind, painful stretching, and cross-training. I read Jeff Galloway’s book on marathon training and believed him about being able to train ANYONE to run a marathon.  I believed in myself.

Once I started down that first momentous mile in Hopkinton and heard the crowd cheer, I knew it WAS all worth it — every minute, every hamstring and piriformis twinge, every screaming quadriceps and hip flexor. When the going got tough, I chanted my “YOU CAN DO IT” mantra and with conditioning, endurance and mental toughness on my side, I willed myself through the miles to the finish that first time in April 2001.

So why do it again – nine more times? (I did New York in 2002). Sure, I craved the excitement and euphoria that I knew would be there on race day.  But, what I really discovered was that the marathon had became a metaphor for my life. It was about meeting serious challenges to the body, mind, and spirit in both training and race – and deciding to summon the determination and courage to finish, and finish strong.

And because I received my number by raising money for the pediatric oncology unit at MGH, I was not just doing this for myself. I was helping kids fight cancer. That was a huge motivator.  Over the years, those brave kids became a part of my life and journey.  Knowing that they were battling more than 26.2 miles, cheering ME onward, and counting on me to finish, propelled me forward – and inspires me today.

Look for me. I’ll be cheering.

Davi-Ellen Chabner is an avid golfer, photographer, instructor of medical terminology and author of 3 books: The Language of Medicine, 9th edition, Medical Terminology: A Short Course, 5th edition, and Medical Language Instant Translator, 4th edition. She has run 9 Boston Marathons and 1 New York Marathon in the past 9 years. She mentors in an after-school program for inner city girls (Mellon Academy of Goodwill Industries) and is on the board of The Boston Conservatory and Friends of the MGH Cancer Center.  She is perhaps best known as grandmother to Bebe, Solomon, Ben, Gus, and Louisa Rose.

]]> http://fairgamenews.com/2010/04/why-at-57-i-decided-to-run-the-boston-marathon-nine-times/feed/ 1 http://fairgamenews.com/2010/04/kristine-lilly-oldest-and-fittest-on-team-talks-age-physical-play-and-practicing-smart/ http://fairgamenews.com/2010/04/kristine-lilly-oldest-and-fittest-on-team-talks-age-physical-play-and-practicing-smart/#comments Fri, 16 Apr 2010 13:51:25 +0000 Laura Pappano http://fairgamenews.com/?p=1250

Boston Breakers Co-Captain Kristine Lilly with teammates after practice on the Harvard fields.

By Lindsay Rico

Soccer is — if you look at the rosters of Women’s Professional Soccer — a sport played by 20-somethings. When #13 Kristine Lilly takes the field for the Boston Breakers’ home opener against the Philadelphia Independence on Sunday she will be, at 38, by far the oldest player on the team and one of the oldest in the league. Many of her U.S. Team colleagues who won the world cup in 1999 — players like Mia Hamm and Brandi Chastain — have retired.

And yet, on the official media day last week, as players finished practice, showered and grabbed bag lunches in the Murr Center Lounge at Harvard Stadium, word filtered out that she was also the fittest. Yep, the athlete who in pre-season conditioning had come out on top. “She is Superwoman to me,” says Leslie Osborne, who with Lilly is co-captain of the team.

The point is that Lilly is not merely hanging in (understandable given her impressive resume, two-time World Cup and Olympic champion, second leader goal scorer in the world…). She is today a key playmaker and scorer on her team. She was named to the WPS All-Star team last season. Last month she was called up to play for the U.S. National Team against Mexico (US won 1-0 on a snow-covered! field), bringing Lilly’s world cap total to 344 (she was already the world’s all time leader in caps, man or woman).

Sure, her life is more complicated (married with a 20-month-old daughter will do that), but defender Stephanie Cox, formerly of the now-defunct L.A. Sol, says Lilly may be older, but that’s not necessarily a negative. “I’m almost jealous because she has had so long to figure out her body and she’s knows herself really well,” says Cox, 24. “She is probably the fittest she’s ever been.”

Age does matter. But it’s not the whole picture. FGN spoke with Lilly about how she gets the most from her body — and her experience.

FGN: What do you differently fitness-wise now than when you did years ago?

KL: The biggest difference for me now is an extra day off here and there. It’s not about over-doing it and doing extra, extra, extra. I’m more efficient with my time and I make sure to get rest. We practice five days a week, have a game on Saturday, and Sunday is for recovering. I might do a lighter session or take an extra day off here or there. Fitness has always been the backbone of my game. So I make sure I’m fit.

FGN: How do you approach the game differently now than when you started playing professionally?

KL: When you step on that field there’s a competitiveness. You want to win. It’s all the same. For me, the difference is my life off the field.

FGN: What does experience count for?

KL: Sometimes young players are still worried about everything. If you are out there, focus on two things you can do and do that well. Don’t try to solve the world’s problems in one practice. You see the eagerness in [young players'] eyes. It’s great to see that. You want that passion. But realize that everyone makes mistakes.

FGN: After the ponytail pull last fall in the college playoff game, there has been talk about how physical women’s soccer has become. Is it rougher?

KL: It’s physical. It’s been physical since I played in high school. Players today are better and stronger. But there is not a moment when you are not having some bodily contact. And it can teeter on the line of foul or no foul. That is just part of it.

FGN: How long do you plan to play? Any plans to retire?

KL: No! We’re just playing it by ear. I’m taking care of my body. I’ll know when it’s time.

FGN: Do younger players ever tease you about your age?

KL: Yeah, there are some comments out there, but it’s all in good fun. I just make sure to give it right back to them!

It’s time to think beyond the court.

Sure, there’s a lot of back-and-forth about whether UConn’s dominance – winning streak of 78 and beating almost all opponents by double-digit margins – is bad or good for women’s college basketball. The basic argument: Is it too boring to watch? Or will everyone tune in to see what the fuss is all about? (BTW lately looks like people are tuning in as Nielsen rating for UConn-Baylor was 2.6 or 2 million households on Sunday, more than Red Sox-Yankees or PGA Golf).

But the horse-race aspect of this debate misses what we have here: A genuine image of what women look like when they lead. In a sport in which players mostly stay for all four years of college with legitimate majors and career plans, watching how this team approaches their on-court work reveals far more than awesome ball-handling skills. I see young women I would hire – and vote for. Here’s why:

1. Preparation.  From the minute they step onto the court at practice, these players are full-out. They drill like they play (sometimes unfairly out-matched), and take seriously the details of their game. It doesn’t matter that opponents aren’t likely to measure up. They stride into the meeting, the contest, the debate fully ready.

2. Mental Toughness. It is not easy to win. Constantly. By wide margins – and not lose focus. Many athletes play to their opponents. Many people outside of sports lack the mental fortitude to stay on track when no one is challenging them to be great and do it right. That’s why inner city schools fail; why Toyota is spending a fortune on a recall.

3. Team Play. Yes Tina Charles is a superstar and so is Maya Moore. But this is not the Charles-Moore Show; it is UConn women’s basketball. This is how things –on court or off – really get done. In Congress, in companies, in the world.

4. Relentless Pursuit. Beyond the mental toughness to play to their own standards when others fall away, this team keeps it at a sustained high level so consistently that they have created a new reality, a new image of what (phenom Brittany Griner aside) women’s basketball looks like. Or should I say, women leaders playing basketball?

5. Self-Discipline. In 1995, after Connecticut won that critical title, Rebecca Lobo quipped on national TV that “now I can go back to being the worst post player in America.” It’s no secret that Geno Auriemma is tough. Tina Charles and teammates have heard and taken more “coaching” than most people could handle. They have kept cool and listened. They have stood up and worked harder. Who doesn’t want a leader who can take the guff and stay in control?

Go ahead, tune in, if you want to see what all the talk is about. But don’t forget to notice what’s happening on that court — besides basketball.

In sports, there is always some arrogance on the side of youth. When an athlete of twenty-two faces an athlete of forty or fifty, one assumes the younger player will win—he or she must be stronger, fitter, faster. This notion is completely false — and I learned it on a squash court.

Recently, I have taken up doubles squash (played on a court that is 25 feet wide and 45 feet long as compared with a singles court which is 21 feet wide and 35 feet long). North American doubles is also played with a hardball, which moves around the court differently from the soft ball used in the College Squash Association.

After playing all of the Under 25 age group tournaments, I decided it was time to flap my wings. I entered the William White Tournament at Merion Cricket Club in Haverford, PA. My partner is another college senior in college, and we played nos. 1 and 2 on the ladder at Wellesley College. We work out, we train hard, and our squash has gotten better. In the second round of the William White, we faced two players who were in the fifties. Finally, we thought, we’d have a win.

Molly and Jen, our competitors, crushed us. Like bugs! Young bugs, but bugs none the less.Hardball doubles taught us a valuable lesson: youth may bring strength, but it does not equal experience.

In a racquet sport, especially one where the ball (a hardball) can be so erratic, it was clear that the players who have had more experience on the larger court know the angles and the ball better. At a camp I attended, the Princeton Squash coach told us we had to hit at least 100,000 balls for the shot to be solidified in our muscle memory. I haven’t hit nearly that many doubles balls — and Jen and Molly probably have. They’ve been on the court longer, and know where the ball is going to go when I shape up to hit it. But, you might say, they can’t move around the court as quickly. But what does that matter when they use more surprising shots? They want to end the point (that means they don’t have to move as much).

I ran into Molly at the US Doubles Squash Championships in Baltimore, Maryland last weekend.  As we watched the women’s open age group semi-finals, she turned to me (we were watching Natalie Grainger and Diana Dowling play Lee Belknap and Natarsha Tippett McElhinny). “You get so much better by watching this,” she said.

I thought about how much more of this, on court and off, Molly had seen. And there was plenty of evidence that longevity in the sport has benefits, just considering the legends in the game in addition to the women I was watching: Alicia McConnell played in the 40 plus age group. Narelle Tippett Krizek and her partner Suzie Pierrepont (okay, she’s 30-something) played us in the first round of the tournament (they ended up winning), and Joyce Davenport captured the William White title while competing in the 50 plus age group.

In another post, I wrote that I was scared that athletics would end after college. But the beautiful thing about being whupped by these women who were older and better than me, was that for the first time, I felt a new possibility: As I get older, I will actually get better.

When Jonathan Hall captured the air-rifle individual title at the NCAA Rifle Championships, held at Texas Christian University last weekend, he realized what a big deal it was. “I had to represent the men,” said Hall, according to an NCAA news report. (Hall was the only guy to make the finals.)

The all-female TCU team won the overall NCAA national title and the team air-rifle title; Sarah Scherer of TCU won the small bore individual title.

While this was a big day for men — and for Columbia (Ga.) State, which just started a rifle team this year — it also serves as a reminder that men can compete in sports with top female athletes and sometimes win.

Or, put another way, in some sports men and women can compete with and against each other. No problem.

NCAA College Rifle is a co-ed sport. What makes this so interesting is that in Olympic competition, rifle is divided by sex. And not just divided, but assigned different rules.

In rifle, for example, there are some events women don’t compete in at all (sound familiar?) and others — like the 50m, 3 position (prone, standing kneeling) where the men take 40 shots and women just 20. In the 10m air rifle, guys take 60 shots standing; women 40 (same deal for the air pistol). Trap, double trap and skeet shooting call for 125 targets for men and 75, 120, and 75 (respectively) for women. But why?

Having different divisions and rules in an Olympic sport in which males and females already effectively compete together at the college level makes no sense. For those who argue that making Olympic shooting competition co-ed would cut down on chances for medals, I’d say: Make more categories.

In 1976 when Margaret Murdock “tied” for a gold medal with Lanny Basham and was awarded a silver by the judges, it was a co-ed competition — and then divided after that. “Men didn’t like having a woman beat them,” Murdock told me a few years ago in an interview.

Now, of course, they are used to it. Maybe the IOC can be out front here: There’s still time before London…

Obviously Danica Patrick struggled in her NASCAR debut.

After finishing 6^th in the Lucas Oil Slick Mist 200, a race to “get comfortable,” she crashed at the Daytona International Speedway (finishing 35 out of 43 drivers), finished 31^st (three laps behind winner Kyle Bush) at Auto Club Speedway in California, and crashed again in Las Vegas trying to pass Michael McDowell.

For now, Patrick is back driving Indy Race cars (they look more like toy racers than regular cars; quick video here on the difference between Indy and NASCAR).

The message to her crew after Daytona? “Thanks guys,” she radioed. “Sorry I sucked today. But I’ll figure it out.” Her point in a USA Today story was that she was at the start of a learning curve. “You know what? This is a whole new ball of wax for me, and it’s all different. I have to disconnect from my results for quite some time because they’re probably not going to be what I’m used to.”

What I like about Patrick is that she’s coming back. After Annika Sorenstam played a spectacular first round at the PGA Colonial in June 2003, but failed to make the cut in the second round, she curtsied, and ran for the exit:

“I’m glad I did it, but this is way over my head,” she said. “I’ve got to go back to my [LPGA] tour, where I belong.”

Danica gets that when you compete at a high level, you may not come out on top your first time out. She knows she must learn, adjust to the equipment, conditions, and competition. In other words, the problem is NOT that she is a female in a male-dominated sport.

Maybe this is a valuable lesson (and not just at elite levels of play): It is not always about gender. Sometimes it’s a matter of practice.

No one will forget how well Sorenstam played under tremendous pressure (her participation was cast as an updated “Battle of the Sexes”). Imagine if she would have done what Danica is doing? Who’s to say she couldn’t hone her short game tools to play in a run of PGA events? (I bet they’d love to have her now).

Rosie Brennan, a member of the Dartmouth College XC ski team who spoke with FGN contributor Sarah Odell, offered this explanation:

You do not have to change skis. In fact, it used to be against the rules to
change skis. In many races, it still is. The officials will put a stamp on each
of your skis and you have to finish with at least one of the skis with the
stamps on it (allowing for mishaps and breaking skis). Recently they have
changed the rules and allow for skiers to change skis in the longer races. The
reason you would want to change skis in a longer race is because you might have
missed the wax and either have slow skis or slick skis that make it hard to ski
up the hills. Additionally in long races, kick wax (the sticky stuff just under
the foot that allows you to propel yourself forward) wears off after awhile so
it can be beneficial to switch skis part way through. The reason it was so
prevalant in this Olympics is because the conditions were changing often and
quickly making chosing the right wax very difficult.

Let’s take a breather. Time out from Lindsey Vonn and women in bathing suits. For me, one of the most frustrating aspects about Olympic coverage is that we usually can only watch sports that the United States dominates (or sports that are surrounded in controversy). As a result, many sports I know little about. So this week, I talked to Rosie Brennan, a member of the Women’s Cross Country Team at Dartmouth College. Rosie explained how the sport works, and that it’s much more than the image I had — of my father climbing the hill in my yard and skiing down it.

FGN: I need a crash course in competitive Cross Country Skiing…
RB: Cross Country skiing is made up of two disciplines, freestyle and classical. Like alpine, in order to win the World Cup, you have to be good at both. Although racers tend to be better in one or the other, they are forced to compete in both. There are six different events at the Olympics and the technique used, freestyle or classic, switches every Olympic year.

FGN: What are the events this year?
RB: This year the events are:

– The 10/15 km individual start freestyle. This race is a time trial event where racers are started every 30 seconds.  (The women ski 10 km and the men ski 15 km)

– Classic Sprint. In the Classic Sprint, men and women must pass qualifying rounds to make it into the finals. Only the top 30 men and women will move past the initial round. The course in Whistler is 1.7 km for men and 1.4 km for women. Classic Sprint races are very exciting because athletes crash as they dash for the line. The Whistler course has a big 180 degree downhill corner and a long finishing stretch. The United States has been very successful in this event.

– The 15/30 km pursuits. The 15/30 km pursuits feature both the freestyle and classic technique, with a mass start. Racers begin by skiing classic and finish skating

– Team Sprint Freestyle. The team Sprint freestyle uses the same course as the individual sprint, but the teams are made up of two skiers who trade skiing laps of the course until three laps have been competed. There is only a semi and a final because of the overall length of this event. Both distance skiers and sprinters come together in the Team Sprint.

– 4X5/10 km relay. The 4×5/ 10 km relay is a mass start as well, with each skier going 5/10 km before tagging their teammate. This event features a rivalry between the Italian and Norwegen men.

– The 30/50 mass start classic. The 30/50 km mass start classic is considered one of the best events. It takes place at the end of the games, and is a long and grueling event, but is often very exciting because a lot can happen through the length of the race.

FGN: How are events judged?
RB: All events are solely based on time. Obviously, there are rules as to what technique you can use and such, but it is purely who is the fastest skier.

FGN: Who are the American women to watch?
RB: Kikkan Randall.  She is the star sprinter of the women’s team. She was the first American women to win a world cup and to win a medal at world championships — both in the sprint event.

FGN What is the least known fact about Cross Country skiers?
RB: Cross country skiing athletes are truly remarkable. They are without a doubt the most fit athletes in the world. The top level skiers train 750-1000 hours a year. These are hours spent constantly in motion. Unlike soccer practice where time is spent learning plays, moves, and drills, every single one of these hours is spent creating a higher oxygen capacity and getting stronger. All courses are made off big climbs and fast downhills. Skiers can reach speeds of 30 mph which is remarkable because cross country skis do not have edges. Balance and coordination play a key role in being successful.

Rosie Brennan of Dartmouth in a cross country ski race