My Week: Canceled rounds, desk swings, and reel views

Missed opportunities summed up the past seven days, but not all is lost.

Tuesday and Wednesday this past week were nuts here. Tuesday was Hurricane-day, one every parent is fully aware of—the day before school. It’s an amalgamation of emotions, from optimism to skepticism, excitement, and fear. And that’s just for the kids; for parents, add clean clothes, bus schedules, and, worst of all, the return of making lunches. Who knew that final piece was such a chore, and I defy you to find one parent who doesn’t dread that task.

With school barreling down, my scheduled Tuesday round took a backseat. In its place, thanks to the work-from-home world, was a fantastic driving range session on my lunch break Wednesday. And it was there, roasting in the early-afternoon sun, where I found a form of mental health that I didn’t know was missing.

From leaving my house to returning home, I was gone for 43 minutes. I’m lucky—we have a course 0.8 miles from our house, and it has one trait that seems to be fleeting: an actual grass driving range.

One quick drive, one small bucket (37 balls), and one sweat-soaked outfit later, I was back at my computer, ready to finish the day. And I was happy.

The Tuesday round didn’t happen, but I found an alternative that accomplishes a few things. For one, playing actual golf isn't necessary as I continue to tinker with my grip and familiarize myself with my new clubs. Reps are what counts, and there’s no better place than the range. You lose the need to pivot and hit shots based on varying factors, but that comes later. If your quest is to improve your game truly, the course's pressures and stresses won’t get you there.

The bulk of your time must be on the range. Using it wisely is critical; understanding why something is—or isn’t—working is the purpose.

But above all else, being on the range, just you, your clubs, and a bucket of yellow balls, is where it comes together. For me, it’s also a chance to improve my game without taking away family time, which, as we roll into the school year, is less and less. Play dates, work events, homework—it all adds up. That lunch hour range session is not only a way to destress and do something I enjoy, but it brings that enjoyment to light without the burden of guilt.

Desk Swings

Speaking of working from home, get yourself one of these. I bought this in high school, lost it in my parents’ shed for years, and recently discovered the joys of such a simple swing tool. This model, in particular, focuses on grip alignment and allows unlimited reps with no space or worry of an errant ball breaking a window (unless you stand too close to a window and break it with the club.

If that happens, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Sitting here now, between work emails, zoom calls, and writing this letter, I find myself picking it up and gripping, re-gripping, and repeating.

Rep after rep.

Reel Views

I mentioned in my introductory mail that this newsletter would follow along as my good friend Chris Strahm attempts to qualify for the U.S. Open as an amateur. After discovering the Shot Tracer app, Chris makes videos of himself using the tracer, playing rounds, or just on the range.

One of the good aspects of social media (to which there are VERY few) is the ability for a broader audience to follow along on an adventure. Chris is proof of that with his videos, and they’re catching on:

His story is inspiring, not just because he’s my friend, but because of what it stands for overall. He knows he’s not going pro (at least I hope he does); he’s not going to win a big purse; and the odds are stacked against him from the sheer volume of players attempting this same goal. But these do not stop him; they almost seem to fuel the fire.

I have always been a dreamer, and a lot of the time, it’s been a detriment. Not an unrealistic dreamer; I never put my all into becoming president. But for years, the dream was becoming a “writer,” whatever that means in this new world. And I accomplished a lot, but not the ultimate goal, and for long stretches, that perceived failure beat me down. But as I get older, it’s fun to watch others chase their dreams firsthand and see that it doesn’t always have to be the totality of the dream.

Sometimes it’s just about making one cut, at one event, and knowing you put your all into getting there.