Over the last year, I had fallen out of the habit of exercising regularly. Like so many people, I had plenty of excuses. My workdays were too busy and exhausting. There were household chores that needed attention. And sometimes, I simply felt that I deserved a break.
Eventually, I decided it was time to do something about it.
I figured I would start with something simple: walking.
How difficult could that be?
The next question was how far I should walk. In my subdivision, I have mapped out four different routes: one mile, three miles, five miles, and seven miles.
In the back of my mind, I could hear my wife, who is a physical therapist, telling me not to overdo it.
“Start slowly and build yourself up.”
Sound advice, certainly.
Unfortunately, even though it has been more than 30 years since I was a competitive athlete, my brain is still wired to compete.
I decided I was going to walk seven miles.
Almost immediately, that little voice inside my head began speaking.
“Come on, Juice. Three miles is good enough.”
When I reached the three-mile mark, I ignored the voice and continued.
As the miles added up, my foot began to hurt, and my back started to ache.
Five miles.
“Oh my God. That’s enough. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve done plenty.”
There it was again. That little voice trying to convince me to stop.
But I had made a commitment to myself.
I wanted to finish what I had started.
As I continued, my lungs were feeling the effort, and my legs were getting tired. Eventually, I reached the point where I simply thought:
“To hell with it. I’m going for it.”
And I did.
Seven miles.
Looking back, I probably should have listened a little more closely to my physical therapist wife. There is a difference between challenging yourself mentally and ignoring physical pain. Part of becoming a smarter athlete is understanding that difference.
But the experience reminded me of something I had spent years trying to teach my daughters.
Sometimes, our greatest opponent isn’t the person standing across from us. It’s the voice inside our own head.
Where do these limiting beliefs come from? Why do our minds sometimes convince us that we have reached our limits before we have truly discovered what we are capable of accomplishing?
Overcoming self-doubt is a constant challenge, even for adults who have the benefit of experience and maturity.
Now imagine what that battle must be like for a 10-year-old, a 12-year-old, a 15-year-old, or even a 20-year-old athlete.
As parents, we spend countless hours helping our children develop their physical skills. We drive them to practices, pay for camps, find trainers, and encourage them to improve.
But how much time do we spend helping them develop their minds?
I believe the mental battle is one of the most important challenges any athlete will face. It can be the difference between being good and becoming great. And sometimes, between being great and becoming truly exceptional.
Throughout my daughters’ athletic careers, I tried to reinforce three important lessons.
These are three conversations I believe every sports parent should consider having with their child.
1. The Enemy Within
The first step in overcoming limiting beliefs is recognizing that they exist.
Every athlete, regardless of age or ability, experiences moments of doubt.
“I’m too tired.”
“I can’t do another one.”
“I’m not good enough.”
“I’ll never be as good as that player.”
These thoughts can become powerful obstacles if we allow them to control our actions.
When my daughters, Hailey and Grace, were growing up, I frequently talked to them about the relationship between the mind and the body.
One of my favorite lessons was that our minds sometimes want to quit before our bodies have reached their actual limits.
I reinforced this message repeatedly.
When they thought they had taken their last shot, completed their last repetition, or run their final sprint, I would challenge them.
“Okay, okay. Just one more.”
One more shot.
One more repetition.
One more sprint.
My goal wasn’t to push them beyond what was safe or appropriate. It was to help them recognize that they were often capable of a little more than they initially believed.
Over time, those small moments can build something powerful: confidence.
There is a terrific book called Atomic Habits by James Clear. One of the ideas that resonated with me was the concept of becoming just 1% better every day.
Think about how powerful that message can be for a young athlete.
You don’t need to become an entirely different player overnight.
You don’t need to make 100 more shots today than you did yesterday.
You simply need to find a way to improve.
Maybe you take a few extra shots after practice. Maybe you spend another five minutes working on your ballhandling. Maybe you concentrate a little harder on your defensive footwork.
Small improvements, repeated consistently, can eventually produce extraordinary results.
More importantly, they teach your child that improvement is something they can control.
The first conversation is about recognizing self-doubt and learning that it doesn’t have to determine what happens next.
And this isn’t a conversation you have once.
It is a message you reinforce throughout their athletic journey.
2. Go Hard or Go Home
When I was a freshman in high school, I went out for the football team.
For those of you who played football years ago, do you remember two-a-day practices?
Those were some long, hot days in August.
We had an agility course that included tires, nets, and several other obstacles. I remember running through that course one afternoon while our head coach watched.
When I finished, he called me out in front of the entire team.
He accused me of not giving my best effort.
I was frustrated.
“Coach, I was going as hard as I could!”
He wasn’t buying it.
He told me to get back to the starting line and run the course again.
This time, I had to do it by myself, with everyone watching.
And wouldn’t you know it?
I ran it faster.
I pushed myself harder.
The coach had made his point.
I thought I had been giving everything I had, but there was another level of effort I hadn’t discovered.
It was a powerful lesson, although I don’t think I fully appreciated it until several years later.
As my daughters grew older, I would occasionally ask them a simple question.
“Do you play hard all the time?”
Think about that question for a moment.
Not when the game is close.
Not when the coach is watching.
Not when you’re playing against your biggest rival.
All the time.
The answer, for just about every athlete, is no.
We all have moments when our concentration slips. We all have possessions when we could have worked a little harder. We all have practices when we aren’t completely engaged.
That’s human nature.
But what separates athletes is their willingness to recognize those moments and hold themselves accountable.
I wanted Hailey and Grace to understand that effort is a choice they get to make every day.
You cannot always control your shooting percentage.
You cannot always control how many minutes you play.
You certainly cannot control how talented your opponent might be.
But you can control your preparation, your attitude, and the effort you bring to the court.
And when you believe you are already working hard, it’s worth asking yourself whether you have another level to give.
Not every workout needs to be harder than the last, and recovery is an important part of athletic development. The real goal is to give your best appropriate effort in each situation.
The second conversation is about teaching your child to take ownership of their effort.
Because talent might open the door, but consistent effort is what helps an athlete walk through it.
3. Keep the End in Mind
Becoming a successful athlete requires an enormous investment.
There are countless practices, workouts, games, camps, and summer club tournaments.
There is the financial commitment parents make, but perhaps even more significant is the investment of time and energy made by the athletes themselves.
Think about all the experiences our children sometimes miss.
The summer afternoon at the beach with friends.
The birthday party.
The weekend spent relaxing instead of traveling to another tournament.
It’s a lot to ask of a young person.
So what’s the point of all that sacrifice?
What makes it worthwhile?
When my daughters were young, I would tell them that I wouldn’t ask them to make these commitments unless I believed there was something extraordinary waiting for them down the road.
Something so special that, once they experienced it, they would understand why all those hours of preparation mattered.
I was trying to build a dream in their minds.
I wanted them to see beyond the next practice or the next game.
I wanted them to imagine what might be possible if they committed themselves to something meaningful.
And eventually, I got to witness one of those extraordinary moments.
During Hailey’s senior year of high school, she had the opportunity to play varsity volleyball alongside her younger sister, Grace.
As a father, watching my two daughters compete together was an incredible experience.
They weren’t just on the same team.
They were playing right next to each other on the court!
That season, they helped lead the Kettle Moraine Lasers to the program’s first trip to the state tournament in school history.
I will never forget the excitement and emotion of winning that sectional championship.
In the middle of all that celebration, I had the opportunity to remind my daughters of something I had told them so many times before.
The payoff comes later.
And when it finally arrives, how sweet it can be.
But here’s something I understand even more clearly today.
My daughters didn’t need to reach the state tournament for all those years of work to be worthwhile.
Sure, that moment was special.
Very special.
But the real reward was something much bigger.
It was the mindset they developed along the way.
The discipline.
The work ethic.
The ability to persevere when things became difficult.
The confidence that comes from setting a challenging goal and working toward it over an extended period.
Those lessons extended far beyond athletics.
I saw them in the way my daughters approached their academics. And I have seen them in Hailey’s approach to her work as a medical assistant.
Those are the gifts that keep giving.
Another example involves Grace and her basketball career.
When Grace was in third grade, I began telling her that she could become the greatest basketball player in Kettle Moraine High School history.
That was a pretty big dream for a little girl.
But I wanted her to have something extraordinary to work toward.
At one point, I called the athletic director at Kettle Moraine High School and asked about the school’s all-time basketball scoring record.
The answer was 1,223 points.
So I went out and purchased stickers for the basketball pole in our driveway.
I put one number on that pole.
1,224.
One point more than the school record.
That number became a reminder of what Grace was working toward.
Every time she went outside to practice, there it was.
A goal.
A dream.
Something worth pursuing.
Years later, Grace finished her high school basketball career with 2,294 points.
Think about that for a moment.
A little girl who was encouraged to dream about scoring 1,224 points eventually scored 2,294.
Of course, putting stickers on a basketball pole didn’t make that happen.
Grace had to put in the work.
She had to practice when she was tired, develop her skills, overcome disappointments, and commit herself to becoming a better player.
And ultimately, it had to be her dream, too.
But I believe that giving a young athlete something meaningful to work toward can be incredibly powerful.
The goal doesn’t have to be breaking a school record.
Maybe your child dreams of making the varsity team.
Maybe it’s becoming an all-conference player.
Maybe it’s winning a state championship.
Or maybe it’s simply becoming the best player they can possibly be.
What matters is that the dream belongs to them and inspires them to keep moving forward.
The third conversation is about helping your child develop a vision of what they want to accomplish and understand the work required to get there.
Dream big.
Set goals.
Put in the work.
And when that little voice inside their head begins telling them they can’t do it, remind them why they started.
Final Thoughts: The Greatest Victory
As parents, we all want our children to succeed.
We want to see them make the big shot, win the championship, earn recognition, and achieve their goals.
But somewhere along the way, I came to appreciate something even more important.
The greatest victories aren’t always recorded on a scoreboard.
Sometimes, the greatest victory is watching your child develop the confidence to attempt something they once believed was impossible.
It’s seeing them overcome disappointment.
It’s watching them choose hard work when taking the easier path would be so tempting.
And it’s realizing that the lessons they learned through sports are helping them become successful young adults.
Looking back at my experiences with Hailey and Grace, I believe some of the most valuable things I ever gave them weren’t additional practices, training sessions, or basketball lessons.
They were conversations.
Conversations about believing in themselves.
Conversations about giving their best effort.
And conversations about dreaming big enough to make all that hard work meaningful.
As parents, we cannot fight every battle for our children.
Eventually, they have to learn to fight those battles themselves.
But perhaps we can help them prepare for one of the most important battles they will ever face.
The battle within.
I would love to hear your thoughts. Have you had conversations like these with your son or daughter? What lessons have you tried to teach your young athlete about mental toughness, effort, and believing in themselves?
Please share your experiences with me at youthbasketballparent@gmail.com.