https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes daily 0.75 2026-03-08 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/field-notes-9-when-the-light-comes-on-you-have-to-have-something-to-say monthly 0.5 2026-03-08 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/field-notes-8-somewhere-in-the-world-over-coffee monthly 0.5 2026-03-07 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/field-note-5-yesterday-i-did-the-dishes-maybe-today-i-start-my-new-life monthly 0.5 2026-02-08 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/field-notes-4-the-depths monthly 0.5 2026-02-08 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/12-things-i-would-say-to-myself-right-now-if-i-knew-everything-was-going-to-be-okay monthly 0.5 2026-02-02 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/so-lets-start-here monthly 0.5 2026-02-01 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/6924dc38a4abd27f9a12a3aa/3ba19fe8-b4ff-49f9-a000-a4f2b9a71c58/IMG_1590.jpg Field Notes - So Let’s Start Here I am an athlete. I am a tennis player. I play tennis—not professionally today, but one day, yes: that could be my reality. My body is strong, and I have been waiting a very long time to get to this point: the point where I can write about what I am facing, what I am working through—in the gym, on the tennis court, in the Core Energetics practitioner chair (as a student), and as a man, and where all of this intertwines. There is a center somewhere. I have ten thousand projects that I’ve abandoned, and I have shame around that. These field notes—my work as a beginning practitioner—feel like another place to fail: to quit, to not make the grade, to psych myself out before trying. Patterns are a motherfucker. So are the stories I tell myself: about what a Core Energetics practitioner is supposed to say and not supposed to say; about whether it’s useful to share my athletic journey and my tennis plans; and whether I can hold space for others while still growing and changing so much—while still sorting out so much internally. That voice, the inner critic: god, I know that voice. “Stop, Jordan—what are you doing? Who do you think you are, really? Watch—you’ll make a promise to yourself to write about your Core Energetics ‘practice’ for a couple of days, maybe a week, then, like everything else, life will get in the way, you’ll get scared, you’ll psych yourself out, and you’ll give up. This is who you are, Jordan. This is how it ALWAYS goes.” Those demons are real, and they’re coming for me this time—for real. Every word that I write, every time I take up space and share a hard truth—even with myself—they’re chomping at the bit, wanting to devour me, to eat me alive, to fuckin’ humiliate me. Honestly, I don’t even know from what place within me I’ll draw the strength I’ll need to keep showing up and keep trying. Maybe this will fail. Maybe I’ll quit and no one will ever read this. If you are reading this, you probably don’t know me, and I probably don’t know you. You might not care that I want to be a top-300 pro tennis player, even though I played soccer in college rather than tennis. You definitely don’t know that I spent 90 minutes in the gym today, working on my core strength and speed and agility and flexibility with a strength and conditioning coach who I’m confiding in and trusting completely to get my body, heart, and mind ready for the storm that’s about to come: the tournaments I’ll play in this summer; this first serve that’s far from a weapon, and the second serve that I don’t even have a clue about yet. A lot is going to have to change for me to get to where I want to go, but I’ve already come so far, really. Core Energetics is painful. The work hurts. I have my own practitioner and, although we don’t see each other as often as I want, this much is clear: almost the entire time, the work does not feel good. My shadows do not like being examined—they hate being looked at and questioned. That part of me, the one that begs for protection, zero friction, and being everyone’s best friend, likes my life just the way it is: mostly small, mostly hidden and unknown. So what? Tonight the score is 0–0, and a fresh start is being offered. Fifteen minutes of writing these field notes, day 1... That has to count for something.. https://www.redoaksathletics.com/fieldnotes/blog-post-title-one-cs7w5 monthly 0.5 2026-02-01 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/6924dc38a4abd27f9a12a3aa/1764111262980-WAXI2NEI8OWNJC5DPJMR/unsplash-image-Hzbq4de24kQ.jpg Field Notes - The Ball Goes up in the Air . . . - The ball goes up in the air and you feel something —- a lump in your throat, or butterflies moving in your chest. Your breath jumps, but you’re not sure: is it anticipation, excitement, fear, joy? If you had more time, maybe, you could name what you’re feeling — put words to the sensation and explain it to yourself in a way that brings clarity. If it’s soccer, then maybe the ball going up in the air means that you’re going to have to bring it down gently with a chest trap - or if you’re a goalkeeper, maybe this means you’re going to have to come off of your line on an in-swinging corner kick —- be bold (or what might feel like boldness), and snatch it out of the air before it meets an attacker’s forehead. If it’s tennis, and the score is ad-in and you’re up a break in the second set, then the ball going up in the air might mean it has just ricocheted awkwardly off of the frame of your opponents racket and is hovering above your side of the net . . . just waiting to be resolved with an overhead smash. But did you make your last overhead, or what about the one before that? If it’s football, and you’re a wideout and find yourself sprinting down the left sideline, maybe you can’t even see (yet) the ball going up in the air, but you can just tell by the baited breath and lingering swell of the crowd that your quarterback has just launched it way down the field and soon —- like in a few split seconds —- you’re going to have to turn to your right, locate the ball, and run under it (or go and get it). And by the way, there’s also a cornerback draped over your shoulder, and a safety just a few steps away, who’s approaching fast. Not only do you know —- I have to catch this one, but also, I have to make sure I don’t get clobbered by the safety. If you find a few free moments, first thing in the morning, before bed — or really anytime during the day see if you can answer this question — preferably with a pen or pencil in-hand and a notebook or sheet of paper at your ready: what do I feel, most often, (1) Just before a ball goes up in the air; (2) While I’m watching a ball go up in the air then starts to come down, and (3) Just after a ball that was once up in the air, has landed again? ____________________ - Jordan Myers - 11/25/25 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/blank daily 0.75 2025-11-24 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/services-old daily 0.75 2025-11-24 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64f0a4610f250e0159eb6aeb/41a1914d-8167-442a-b3c0-997d34f84d21/Stocksy_comp_5061784_V3.jpg https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64f0a4610f250e0159eb6aeb/23a01fd1-e738-4f24-b235-a0c66724daa7/Stocksy_comp_3636289_V3.jpg https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64f0a4610f250e0159eb6aeb/24477200-1278-4449-9ca1-8fa9c1257474/Stocksy_comp_4792777_V3.jpg https://www.redoaksathletics.com/privacy-policy daily 0.75 2025-11-24 https://www.redoaksathletics.com/home daily 1.0 2025-12-03 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/6924dc38a4abd27f9a12a3aa/1764031922370-SS9KA3K7XJGPQJ3DGS7L/unsplash-image-NcjqQ3rDTa0.jpg https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/6924dc38a4abd27f9a12a3aa/85f40de3-4285-4934-824e-1847009e6a31/Jordan+-+Website+Photo+-+Final.png