I Don’t Speak Sports (Except Maybe I Do)

There are many descriptors I’ve used to talk about myself over the years.

Friend.

Daughter.

Marketer.

Entrepreneur.

Coach.

Auntie.

Do you know what word has never made that list?

Athlete.

As I often tell my clients when trying to land a sports metaphor: I don’t speak sports.

My athletic peak was the occasional tennis game with my best friend, where hitting the ball into the neighboring court was more rule than exception.

Athletics has never been my bag.

Enter: pickleball.

When I moved to Asbury Park last fall, I decided to try this latest craze. It appealed to me for a few practical reasons:

• I walk far less here than I did in NYC and wanted a way to move my body year-round

• There’s an indoor facility conveniently two miles from my house

• And in a new town, I was genuinely interested in meeting new people

I took my first lesson last November and - unexpectedly - got hooked.

By January, I got the head nod from the coach that I was no longer a beginner-beginner. I was officially an advanced-beginner.

I called family and friends to celebrate. This had never happened before. Advancement in something sports-related? Moi?

Since then, I’ve been practicing consistently with a goal of moving up to intermediate before spring.

This post isn’t really about pickleball. It’s about noticing a shift in why we keep showing up - and what happens when our motivation is anchored in something deeper than enjoyment or ease.

This inquiry surfaced a few months ago when I led a retreat for a group of entrepreneurs focused on CliftonStrengths - a strengths-based lens I use often in my work.

I believe deeply in this approach. I help leaders design how they lead and live so they are more likely to tap into flow and not grind themselves down to their core.

When the retreat wrapped up, I realized if the travel gods were on my side, I’d make it home in time for… you guessed it…pickleball.

Yet as I drove home, a more pointed - and more personal - question surfaced:

What gives?

How was I - little miss “kick the ball in your own goal” - so excited to end a long day by heading on the court versus other things that so often win my attention? At first blush, I was not playing to my strengths.

And how did that choice square with the beliefs I hold about energy, alignment, and doing work that feels sustainable over time?

With a long drive ahead, I had space to get on the balcony and reflect on who I was being about all of this - not just what I was doing.

This was the real turning point for me: I realized I believed in the vision itself.

I want to be someone who can drop into a pick-up game, play with friends easily, and feel competent enough to join. That picture matters to me.

Even on days when putting on my sneakers feels like a stretch, that vision is strong enough to get me moving. And it’s consistency - especially when the work isn’t fun and exciting - that creates real change once the dopamine wears off.

Then I looked at all of this through the lens of my top CliftonStrengths - Maximizer, Achiever, and Connectedness - and what was going on became even clearer.

Pickleball fits - not because of what it is, but because of how I engage with it.

As a Maximizer, I’m motivated by moving things from good to great. And while I’ll never be naturally gifted at pickleball, there is enough foundational ability that the desire to get better keeps me going.

As someone high in Connectedness, I’m energized by shared effort. I’m surrounded by people who are learning, fumbling, and sticking with it together. Nothing makes me happier than playing with other advanced beginners who are just as committed to getting better.

And Achiever? That one explains why I am able to show up consistently. That’s meaningful to me, even if the results remain on the horizon.

This is the nuance we don’t always name - especially for leaders navigating growth, change, or expanded scope in the day-to-day work of growing their leadership edge.

Yes, strengths matter.

Yes, being in flow is key for sustainability.

But we also need some part of our work to live at the edge.

Choosing the right kind of stretch matters, not because of what it is, but because of how we engage with it. 

When we can name an envisioned identity and orient our effort toward it, the work stops relying on motivation alone and starts to feel anchored in commitment. From there, consistency follows and capacity gets created.

~~~

If your organization wants leaders who can orient their effort around who they’re becoming - not just want comes easily. Let’s talk.