Set Boundaries or Burn Out

Being the president of a youth sports organization is exhausting, if you truly care.

And most people who step into these roles do care. They come in with the right intentions, wanting to make a difference. But this isn’t a paid position, and the reality is that most of us are already balancing full-time jobs, families, and other responsibilities.

That’s where burnout begins.

During my first year as president, I gave everything I had to turn the organization around. And while we made progress, it came at a cost.

Everything else, except for my day job, took a back seat.
My wife. My kids. My health.

The stress was constant. The sleepless nights added up. I stopped working out. I became consumed with making everything perfect, building reserves, fixing systems, making sure every detail ran the way I thought it should.

Game days started at 5:30 AM setting up fields and often didn’t end until 7:00 PM. Some nights stretched even longer.

Twice, I didn’t walk through my front door until midnight.

One of those nights was a playoff game. The other was something I’ll never forget.

I got a call about an injury on the field. As I pulled into the park, I saw multiple sheriff vehicles arriving with lights and sirens. My first thought was this is more than just an injury.

I jumped the curb, parked in the dirt, and ran straight to midfield. Coaches were huddled around a player on the ground. As I got there, so did law enforcement. They told me the initial report was a missing minor, unconscious at the park.

Thankfully, it wasn’t what it sounded like.

Paramedics evaluated the player, and I asked one of his longtime coaches to ride with him in the ambulance while I followed to the hospital. That player, one of ours, one of my kids, was released later that night and ended up being okay.

But those moments stay with you.

That’s the level of responsibility you carry when you truly care.

And it doesn’t stop when the games end.

The calls. The texts. The feedback after losses. The constant stream of “what could be better.” It’s nonstop.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

You have to be available for what matters, but you cannot be available for everything.

If you try, it will break you.

Because that’s exactly what happened to me.

Between the organization, my career, and my personal life, the stress caught up. I ended up in the hospital myself. I had neglected the one thing that made all of it possible, my own health.

It took me a full year to really understand this:

You can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself first.

So now, I operate differently.

I set boundaries.
I delegate.
I prioritize what actually matters.

To the board members and volunteers out there:
Take care of yourself. This work is important, but it’s not worth sacrificing your health or your family.

And to the parents:
Give your volunteers a little grace.

They’re not getting paid. They’re giving their time, their energy, and a lot of themselves because they care about your kids.

At the end of the day, we all want the same thing.

A better experience for the kids.

The only way we sustain that is if the people leading it are still standing.