Blog 120: Life lessons and Sports

By Lorna McAvoy

At the turn of the New Year, an advert on LinkedIn caught my attention. It was looking for volunteers to join the Scottish Women in Sport (SW/S) Digital Committee. I found myself asking, “What is that?” and wanted to know more. Some of the words in the advert jumped out at me: “bloggers, writers, Mailchimp, Canva experts, and social media stars.” My interest was piqued, my ears perked up. But then, that familiar inner voice chimed in—”You’re not any of these things.” I told the voice to shoosh.

Despite my doubts, I decided to reach out. I’m not an expert in any of these areas, but I do have some experience, and what I lack in technical skills, I make up for in enthusiasm and a willingness to learn.

Three weeks later, I was in a meeting with incredible women from all around Scotland who had also answered the call for volunteers. Maureen McGonigle, who was leading the meeting, explained the work of SW/S and what we would be involved in. The diversity of backgrounds in the room was inspiring. I was impressed by Maureen. I was impressed by the other women. And then the inner voice whispered, “Why are you here, Lorna?” Shoosh.

After the meeting, I told Maureen I was in. Two weeks later, I was on a Teams call with the entire Digital Committee, planning blog content and social media strategy, and the voice was still there—”What are you doing here?” Before I knew it, I had agreed to write a blog post and take some creative responsibility for an upcoming project. This was a world apart from my professional background, but I was facing my fears and doing it anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?

So, why SW/S? Why now?

This story starts in 1993 at a high school in Coatbridge, Lanarkshire. I was in S3, and it was last period on a Friday—core PE, a timetable jackpot! The class was full of characters from the east end of Glasgow: Baillieston, Bargeddie, Coatbridge, Townhead… Our teacher was doing her best to contain 34 of us on four badminton courts. I was playing against Susie—loud, full of nonsense, but able to hit a shuttle. It was competitive. It was fun. But it was the 90s, and this kind of fun was in short supply.

I had always loved PE, but back then, our school had no extra-curricular sports. The only teams were for boys. There were no Active Schools Coordinators running after-school clubs. Sport, as far as we knew, was for the boys. Beyond PE, girls had no opportunities to get involved in sports, so no one did.

Then, Susie and a group of forward-thinking, tenacious girls changed that. Their decision set me on a path that would take me around the world—and now, into the Digital Committee at Scottish Women in Sport.

They had approached the teacher who was trying to start a boys’ rugby team. Their goal? To start a girls’ team. That Friday afternoon, after our badminton match, Susie suggested I come along to a training session on Saturday morning: “You’ll love it,” she said: “It’s just a laugh.”

So, nervously, I met her the next morning, and off we went. Before I knew it, rugby was just a regular part of my week. We played matches against other newly established girls’ teams: Hamilton, Biggar, Balerno. The road trips were as much fun as the sport itself.

We had a brilliant Home Economics teacher who managed the team and took us under her wing. Our coaching was top-notch, thanks to Jan Rawlings and Kim Littlejohn—both playing for Edinburgh Accies at the time, with Kim captaining Scotland. We couldn’t have asked for better role models. In 1994, Scotland stepped in to host the Women’s Rugby World Cup after Holland withdrew, and our team was asked to be ball girls for the tournament. What an experience—missing school to watch (and work at) an international sporting event! These women became my heroes. Women’s rugby was in its infancy, and I was thrilled to be part of it.

When it came time to leave school, I knew I wanted to pursue a career in sports. There’s no doubt my involvement in girls’ rugby played a huge role in getting me into university to study sport—it was my point of difference, my leverage. I kept playing, first for my local club in Coatbridge, Waysiders/Drumpellier, where I was team captain and the ladies’ rep on the club committee, then at Hillhead/Jordanhill in Glasgow, playing Division 1. I also played for and coached the University of Strathclyde women’s team and was selected for the Scottish Universities squad, facing off against English Universities and a British Army select team.

The friendships I made through rugby remain some of my closest to this day. The same goes for the friendships I built at university while studying sports. Neither would have happened if I hadn’t agreed to go to training with Susie that Friday.

One of those university friends took up volleyball coaching for a bit of extra money. Through her, I met a group of volleyball players—including one who would become my partner. He had studied sports science and worked in sport, too. In 2009, after six years together, I took another huge step—I moved to New Zealand with him. Sport was our ticket. He got a job with a rugby team, and I was sure I’d find work, too. Sixteen years later, we’ve finally made it back home.

Sports took us around the world—his rugby career led us to New Zealand, France, and even a US baseball team. Meanwhile, I carved out my own path, teaching PE, coaching, and immersing myself in sports communities in every country we lived in. I played volleyball in Scotland, New Zealand, and France, snowboarded in Scotland and New Zealand, joined a Masters swim squad in New Zealand after learning to swim as an adult, fell in love with running during lockdown in France, and even tackled Tough Gal in New Zealand with an incredible group of women. Sport wasn’t just something I did—it shaped my experiences, my friendships, and my outlook on life.

Looking back, I can see the pattern—every time I stepped into something new, there was always that same hesitation, that same doubt. But sport taught me to push past it. That first rugby session with Susie? That was just the beginning. It set me on a lifelong journey of saying yes, even when I wasn’t sure I belonged.

And now, here I am again—saying yes to a new team, a new challenge, and a new way of making an impact with Scottish Women in Sport.

If sports has taught me anything, it’s that the best things happen when you say “yes!”—so here I go again.