The World’s Okayest Golfer

This winter, my husband and I wanted to try something new. We have done of lot together to try and remain active during our time together. Starting with personal trainers at the gym, learning how to ice skate, play hockey, play lacrosse. All kinds of things. We wanted to keep that up and try a new sport.

This winter, due various circumstances, we found ourselves in Palm Springs, California. Living in the desert in the winter is a bit of a mindbender. The most enjoyable part is the ability to be outside more. In our neighborhood there are a ton of golf courses, and to help support the area, we joined the neighborhood affiliate program with the local golf course. The thing is. We don’t know how to play golf.

Well, that’s partly true.

I would classify myself as the world’s okayest golfer. I took lessons when I was a kid, at the behest of my grandfather and dad, and I even worked at a golf course for a couple of summers during high school. My dad was also an amazing golfer, so it was always in my bones in a way. But man, was I bad.

So we decided to take lessons. We reached out to the local golf course and connected with the pro there, a lovely woman named Mary Ann, and set out for our first lesson.

We arrive and are a little unsure of what to say and do, but I just tell myself to have an open mind and just go with the flow. One of the first things she asks us is, “Are you right, or left-handed?” Now, that has always been a less than straightforward answer for me. I write with my left hand, but everything else in sports has been with my right hand, and my right arm is stronger than my left. So, when I was younger, I took lessons with my right hand, because that was what was “just expected.” There wasn’t really any discussion of it being different.

So, I mentioned my handedness to her and she thought we should bring a set of right and left clubs with us. My husband, Mary Ann and I then started our lesson.

My husband needed more one-on-one for some fundamentals, so I spent a lot of the session just taking swings. I was rusty but was able to step up and be as effective as I usually was. Which is me being awkward, inconsistent, and tense. But I managed to get a few good swings, and felt I was as good as I usually was and felt just as—let’s put it—volatile—as I usually would.

We finish our lesson and head back home, talking about the things we just learned. I felt good doing it and feeling that I was “doing the thing” and that I would continue to learn and refine my game.

The next week, we go for our second lesson. Mary Ann shows up again with a right and left-handed set of clubs, and asks if we should try the left. My instincts were to say, no—that we should continue with the right-handed set since that is what I learned with and had used all my life. But she pushed me a bit and suggested we try the left, so I did.

I was totally ass backwards when I picked up the club. I didn’t even know how to hold it right. Mary Ann had to almost force my hands into the right grip, and there I am holding it and it totally feels wrong. Like violently wrong.

I step up to the tee and start taking some swings. Again, I feel incredibly awkward, like my body is resisting every step.

*snap*

OMG.

Without really thinking must about it, I connected with the ball and it sailed down the practice fairway and landed right down the middle.

I did it again.

…and again.

Now, I’m, like freaking out at this point. And just so we’re clear, these aren’t epic distance shots we are talking about, and I’m not about to start the pro tour, but my shots were way more consistent than they were before. Mary Ann, and my husband, just kinda looked at me with a wry smile on their faces. They both commented that I wasn’t attacking the ball, and that I just wasn’t fighting it as much this time.

I told them, that I felt I was fighting it the entire time, but that was only because I was approaching it differently in my mind, and that my mind was fighting me—not my body.

After a while, I noticed that my strong arm, my right, was naturally just carrying the club through the swing and my triceps were doing most of the work. Over time, I was able to bring the body rotation back into the swing and get more power, all while keeping the swing itself consistent.

I had some whiffs, to be sure—but overall, when I was able to confront and overcome my conditioned approach to golf, I was able to discover that I had a more consistent and reliable result. That being said, there is a lot of work that needs to be done to build upon that. But it wouldn’t have happened unless I picked up that left-handed club and powered through my doubt and discomfort.

That experience also made me think of work. (You knew it would be a parable for something, right?)

What are the things that I do, only because I have conditioned myself to do them that way? Is there a go-to approach that I use without thinking, sometimes with good success, that could be even more impactful if I tried a different approach?

I often tell folks, the phrase “we’ve always done it this way” is an incredible dangerous mindset. So while, I might change the environment, tools, and technologies that are part of an activity or initiative, I often *cough* always *cough* approach it the same way in my mind—and that is what I need to overcome.

Just like with my lame-ass right-handed golf swing. I can do it and it gets the job done. But pushing through the awkwardness of using other hand, and keeping at it, has uncovered something pretty remarkable and a new foundation that I can build on.

It will be interesting to find out what different approaches I can take at work and, frankly, in other areas of my life. Fortunately, I know where to share those experiences.

Right here, with you.