The Sad Part of Coaching: Saying Goodbye

There’s a sad part of coaching no one really prepares you for. It’s not in the books or the certifications. It’s rarely mentioned in coaching circles. But if you’ve coached long enough—especially youth or young adults—you know exactly what I’m talking about.

It’s the goodbye.

A Team RunRun athlete at the Cocodona 250 finish line, which may also mark the end of a coach-athlete partnership.
A Team RunRun athlete at the Cocodona 250 finish line, which may also mark the end of a coach-athlete partnership.

The day every athlete, eventually, moves on.

When a Coach-Athlete Partnership Ends

Sometimes they head to a different program. Perhaps they age out or shift their focus. And sometimes, they just outgrow what you can offer. It’s not always a dramatic departure. Often, it’s quiet—gradual even. A drift. A change in goals. A new direction. And while we know from the beginning that we’re part of a journey, not the whole story, it doesn’t make it any easier when the chapter ends.

I was reminded of this recently as I scrolled through old group photos—snapshots from workouts, races, and post-run coffees taken over the last decade. Faces frozen in time. Some I knew would stick it out. Some surprised me and did. And then there were the ones I was sure would-be lifers, but they never made it past the start line. Smiles, heartbreaks, tears, and joy—all wrapped up in these people. Every one of them shaped me as much as I may have shaped them.

Because the truth is, as coaches, we pour a little piece of ourselves into every athlete. Not just into their training plans and feedback sessions—but into their growth. We see potential they might not yet recognize, and we help them discover what’s possible.

And then, one day, they go.

A Relationship Destined to Cease

That’s the job, really. To take someone as far as they can go with you—or as far as they want to go. And then, to let them go, hopefully more prepared for whatever’s next.

I actually try to acknowledge this truth right from the start. I tell every athlete I work with: if it ever stops working—if your needs change, if life shifts, if it just doesn’t feel like the right fit anymore—don’t stress about it. Don’t overthink it. Just say, “Hey… thanks… but…” and I’ll understand. That moment isn’t a failure. It’s just part of the process. And it remains the sad part of coaching.

Coaching isn’t about holding on—because coaching, at its core, is about giving. It’s about believing, building, and eventually becoming a spectator on someone else’s journey.

I still enjoy getting the texts and phone calls—hearing how someone did, where they are today. Sometimes they call me as the coach. Other times, it’s validating as an observer. But that’s life. And honestly, it’s a privilege either way.

Corey Turnbull is a Team RunRun Coach based in Ottawa. He works with beginners just starting out or with seasoned runners looking for a breakthrough. Corey helps athletes maximize the limited training time they have, prioritizing consistency, focus and fun.