A New Perspective from the Red Tees

I came to golf in the typical way many women find the game - an invitation to a corporate outing.

In fact, it became a pivotal, motivating event because I was paired up with our CEO and I discovered that even she had the right clubs, the cute matching plaid shorts and polo, and at least a semblance of poise on the course. Me: rental clubs, running shoes, and a polo shirt that still had fold marks from the department store. Worse, except for a little putt-putt experience, my golf skills were obviously lacking.

Immediately after that event, my co-worker, Linda and I returned to Maryland and signed up for lessons with a crotchety old golf pro. He taught us how to hold our clubs like we were holding baby birds, to address the ball like we were sitting on a bar stool and that our arms needed to swing free of our chests…hah!

But we completed our lessons, bought our clubs and were adopted by two nice gentlemen, clients of Linda’s that wanted to help us learn golf. And we were completely overwhelmed. They instructed us on the finer points of golf, including all the gadgets we needed: 2 different kinds of tees, a certain kind of golf ball, a steel toothbrush to clean our clubs. This game is complicated.

We got better. I won’t say we became great, but because of the consistent play and regular partners, we fell into a pattern of play that was easy to track improvement and see progress. In fact, Linda and I signed up for golf camp the next summer in New York. And golf lessons in Pinehurst. We kept coming back for more.

Then I moved to North Carolina, which in my mind is the golf capital of the East Coast. I was playing Pinehurst within a month of moving here, in February no less. Heaven.

Or Hell? Because now there was so much golf, so many places to play, so many people to play with, my game fell apart. It seemed that the more variables I had in a round, the worse I did. A new course or a new partner were sure to distract and stress me out, making golf less fun and more work each time.

Over the next 10 years, I’ve played inconsistently, maybe 5 rounds a year. I’ve maintained interest in the industry, first becoming certified in a program that customizes Pilates for the golfer, then working with a PGA professional—Doug Hodges—to develop ThinkWorkPlay.com and the Creative Golf Teambuilding Experience. Yet, my own golf has suffered.

That is where the fun has begun. With nothing to lose, I’ve embraced Doug’s mental game principles. They aren’t magic. They require a lot of you as the client. And I can’t say I am actually good at them yet. But what is interesting to me is the principle of releasing a need to control the outcome.

As I was playing with Doug on Wednesday, I attempted the concept of not caring. To not worry if I hooked a shot or dribbled off into the woods. But I couldn’t do it. I judged every swing, made mental criticisms about each shot and kept a (negative) commentary running the entire round.

So I am anxious to out again and try to improve upon my lack of concern.

I want to no longer care what my score is.

I do want to swing a club and not make a judgment about where the ball lands. I want to find the place where I pat myself on the back for swinging freely and athletically; which I know is possible and definitely more fun. I really want to swing the club, hit the ball and walk away calm, unfettered by where the ball has landed and how my next shot will play.

For me, the energy and interest in my own golf is back because I have a new experience I am ready to find. It is a different game for me now than it was when I began to play, but one I believe will become more rewarding and enlightening as I progress.