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How Do You Know When It's Time to Move On From Your Sport?

Most of us spend our entire lives being told what's next. School tells you. Your coach tells you. Your parents tell you. The system tells you. But then one day, you're standing at a crossroads and no one's giving you the answer anymore.


If you're an athlete, that crossroads is inevitable and usually comes sooner than you expect.

So how do you know when it's time to move on from your sport? And more importantly, how do you make that decision without feeling like you're giving up on yourself?


Is It Normal to Question Whether You Should Keep Going or Just Move On From Your Sport?


Let me be clear about something first: questioning your future in sport doesn't make you weak. It makes you human.


I've sat across from enough athletes to know that the ones who never question anything are usually the ones running on autopilot. And autopilot works until it doesn't. Until you wake up one day and realise you've been going through the motions for months, maybe even years.


Jamie won a premiership, played State of Origin, had the career most players dream of. But even he hit a point where he had to ask himself hard questions. Not because he wasn't good enough. Not because he didn't love the game. But because life was asking him to think bigger than just Sundays.


Here's what Jamie said: "Your identity shouldn't be relying solely on your rugby league because everyone's going to get forgotten one day."

That's not pessimistic. That's honest. And it's the kind of honesty that can save you years of confusion if you're willing to listen to it.


The reality is that questioning your future doesn't mean you're done. It means you're awake. And being awake is the first step to making a decision that's actually yours.


What Are the Signs That It Might Be Time to Transition?


There's no universal checklist here. No magic moment where a buzzer goes off and someone hands you a certificate that says, "Congratulations, you're officially done."


But there are patterns. And if you're honest with yourself, you'll recognise them.


You're playing for the wrong reasons.


Maybe you're staying because you don't know what else to do. Or because everyone expects you to keep going. Or because walking away feels like admitting failure. Jamie Soward talked about this when he transitioned out of coaching. He was desperate to get back into it, chasing the next job, the next contract. Until he realised he wasn't chasing coaching because he loved it. He was chasing it because it was familiar. And familiar felt safer than starting over.


But here's the thing: playing it safe rarely leads to fulfilment. It just delays the inevitable.


Your body is telling you something your mind won't admit.


Injuries pile up differently when your heart's not in it anymore. Recovery takes longer. Motivation disappears. You start dreading training sessions instead of looking forward to them. Your body knows before your brain does. And ignoring that voice doesn't make you tough. It just makes you tired.


You're curious about what else is out there.


This one sneaks up on you. You start noticing what other people are doing. You wonder what it would be like to have a different kind of schedule. To explore interests you've pushed aside for years. To build something that doesn't rely on your physical performance.


Curiosity isn't betrayal. It's growth trying to happen.


How Do You Make the Decision Without Regret?


This is the part that keeps most athletes stuck. Because the fear isn't really about leaving. It's about leaving and then wondering, "What if I stayed?"


So let me ask you this: what if the bigger regret isn't walking away too soon, but staying too long?

Jamie Soward retired, sat on the couch for a couple of months, and then his wife told him he needed to get a job. So he went and sold toilets at Harvey Norman. Premiership winner. State of Origin player. Selling toilets.


And you know what? He talks about it with pride. Because it wasn't about the job. It was about proving to himself that he could start from scratch and still show up. That his value didn't disappear the moment he stopped playing.


Here's what I've learned from every athlete I've worked with who's made a successful transition: the decision to move on isn't about certainty. It's about courage.


You don't need to have the next ten years figured out. You don't need a perfect plan. You just need to be willing to take the first step into the unknown and trust that you'll figure it out as you go.


Because here's the truth: athletes are some of the most adaptable people on the planet. You've spent your entire life learning new skills, adjusting to new coaches, bouncing back from setbacks. Those same skills apply off the field. You just haven't given yourself permission to use them yet.


What Can You Do Right Now to Start Preparing?


If you're reading this and thinking, "Okay, maybe it is time," then here are three things you can do today. Not next month. Not when the season ends. Today.


1. Start exploring what interests you outside of sport.

You don't need to commit to anything. Just start paying attention. What do you find yourself reading about? What conversations light you up? What skills do you wish you had? Jamie didn't know anything about water policy when he started his traineeship. But he knew he was good at connecting with people, at listening, at communicating. So he leaned into that. And it opened doors he never expected.


2. Talk to people who've made the transition.

Not just athletes who are crushing it in their second careers. Talk to the ones who struggled. The ones who had to start over. The ones who felt lost for a while before finding their footing. Because those are the stories that will give you permission to be imperfect. And imperfection is where real progress happens.


3. Build something now while you're still playing.

This is the one Jamie wishes he'd done differently. He said it himself: "If you put a lot of money in the bank, you don't pull it out straight away. That's how you have to look at your professional career. What can I put in the bank now to keep working towards?"


You don't need to quit tomorrow. But you do need to start investing in your future self. Whether that's studying, networking, building skills, or just having conversations with people outside your sport. Put something in the bank. Because one day, you're going to need to make a withdrawal. And you'll be grateful you started early.


What's Waiting for You on the Other Side?


Here's the part no one talks about enough: life after sport can actually be better.


Not because sport wasn't incredible. But because you get to be more than one thing. You get to explore. You get to fail without 60,000 people watching. You get to build a life that doesn't end when your body does.


Jamie Soward is doing work now that matters to him in ways footy never could. He's creating pathways for Indigenous athletes. He's learning about water access in rural communities. He's picking up his kids from school on a Monday afternoon and realising, for the first time in his life, that he doesn't need to win on Sunday to feel like he's winning.


That's what's waiting for you. Not perfection. Not certainty. But possibility.


So if you're standing at that crossroads, wondering if it's time to move on, let me ask you this: what would it look like if you trusted yourself enough to find out?


You've spent your whole life proving you can handle pressure. Maybe it's time to prove you can handle possibility too.


If you want to hear more stories from athletes who've made the transition, check out the 2ndwind Podcast. Real conversations. Real struggles. Real clarity. Because the second wind isn't about what you leave behind. It's about what you're brave enough to step into.


 
 
 

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