One of the most heart-wrenching experience to have as a parent (and as a coach) at a swim meet is to see one’s child/athlete dog a race.
The swimmer shows up behind the block and dives in, but his/her heart isn’t into it. He’s swimming but NOT racing. If he’s going to fail, he’ll fail on his own terms. Those are the kind of swims where athletes add considerable amount of time over that of their best performance ever. We may say things like: he didn’t even try.
It’s not easy for parents and coaches to witness such situations because we know how much more the swimmer is capable of and because we wish only the best for them.
This inability to go “all in”, ( whenever I talk about going “all in”, I see a game of poker and I hear Rudyard Kipling‘s words: “If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, in my head) manifests itself too in other less obvious ways at meets. We often see swimmers racing just fast enough to remain a little behind another swimmer, but without ever taking a chance to see if they can overtake that swimmer. They swim a good race but not a great one. They give just enough to make it look like a race, but just not enough to be all in.
In practice, coaches see that kind of behavior too. For example, a swimmer might swim several seconds slower than his/her pace time target during a pace set. They’re doing the set, but refuse to risk giving it their best shot fearing their best shot won’t be good enough to meet their target time.
In most cases athletes display this kind of behavior as a defense mechanism to protect their self-image. If they fail (at meeting expectations) without having gone all in, without having given it their best shot, they can perpetuate the image they have of themselves, where as if they fail after giving it their best shot, they have to adjust their self-image so that it fits with the failure.
This is not a simple behavior to adjust as there are so many variables to consider. Anxiety and confidence are only 2 of these variables. However there is something parents and coaches can do to work on this type of behavior and mindset without approaching the issue head on.
In my years of coaching and working with children, I found that the way I interacted with my swimmers, the environment I created for them when they were with me, had a huge impact on how keen they were on going all in, into what ever they were doing, be it a set, dryland or a race.
It wasn’t natural for me to create the kind of environment that would promote going all in, in my athletes, I had to learn to control, direct, adjust my behavior until it became natural.
The environment I create for my athletes, through the way I behave with them, is based on two pillars: care and feeling safe.
For athletes to be more inclined to invest all they’ve got into what they’re doing, they must be in a situation where they feel safe to test themselves. They must feel that in this specific environment, they’re able to give it their best shot without risking losing face if the end result of their best shot isn’t as good as they’d hoped or envisioned.
I like to compare that environment to a high tech laboratory where the most advanced safety measures are in place and allow the researcher to make the most risky and dangerous experiments. In the laboratory, athletes can test themselves without having to put their self-image on the line because they know and can feel that their coach cares about them as a person (not only as an athlete) and how that it won’t change regardless of the outcome of their experiments.
Coaches/parents show the athletes that they are loved regardless of the outcome through the care they provide and with their words and actions.
The best way I found to help me act and speak in a way that demonstrates how much I care is by seeing my athletes as younger versions of myself. Kind of like if I had the opportunity to travel back in time and coach myself at the age of my athletes. If you had that chance, how would you, knowing what you know now, treat and relate to your younger self?
Seeing my younger self in my swimmers helps me understand what they are going through and it helps me guide them gently, without antagonizing them, towards discovering different aspects of themselves and of life.
Giving my athletes my full attention whenever they speak to me and truly listening to what they are telling me goes a long way in making them feel how much I care about them as human beings and not just as athletes. Making sure I do not make them feel like they are wrong by the way I act and express myself, not tolerating any kind of bullying, as little as it may be, all help in creating a safe environment.
To give you an idea of what this looks like when on pool deck, here is an example of a race feedback to a swimmer who just dogged his race.
“Can you go get Eric (an 11 year old at the regional level) and tell him to come see me please? I haven’t seen him after his race.” I asked Justin who was behind me watching some of his mates racing in the water.
Several minutes later, Eric finally had dragged himself to the table where I was set up to watch the races and give feedback.
“Alright, we need privacy, can you back up please?” I told the bunch of swimmers standing behind me waiting for their race feedback.
I always insist that my conversations with the swimmers after their races are as private as they can be on a crowded pool deck. It really helps the swimmers opening up when we talk and it shows how I respect and value them.
It was easy to see in Eric’s face that he was disappointed, defeated and hoped he was somewhere else.
“Have a seat my friend. It’s not the end of the world yet. Let’s see what there is to learn from that event.” I said pulling in the chair closer to me.
I said from that event and not from that race as I wanted to give him a hint that a race is only when we put our heart into it.
As I was about to start, I heard behind me one of my swimmers making the “ha-ha” mocking sound aimed at another swimmer.
Instinctively, I looked back and asked: “Who made that sound?” trying to figure out who needed a reminder that this sound and behavior were not ok in our group.
It was Alex. He had joined the team recently and didn’t know my stance yet on this kind of behavior.
“Alex, we’ll have a chat later, for now just know that this mocking sound isn’t something that we tolerate in our group. I’ll explain to you why when we chat.”
Turning my attention back to Eric, I said: “Please tell me if I’m wrong, but by the look on your face before your race, you know, when you came to talk before the race and behind the block? It doesn’t seem to me that you really wanted to swim that race. Is that right?”
I asked making sure my tone of voice came out friendly and non-accusing. The moment he would feel threatened, he may close up and that would mark the moment where my intervention would end. I wanted to keep him feeling safe no matter how difficult (he risked finding stuff he’d rather keep buried) it might be for him to look inside.
His head was down since he had sat. Without looking at me, he nodded faintly agreeing he had not wanted to swim it.
I chose not to ask him to raise his head and to look at me. I may do that later when I can see that he is ready for it.
“If you allow me, I might be able to help you make this “swim” an experience of such value to you that when you get up from that chair, you leave happy because what you’ve learned is more important to you than the swim.”
I invited him to cooperate with me to find out what he could learn about himself by reflecting on the swim. This usually helps shake the athlete from whatever “channel” they’re tuned to. Often that channel is called “the poor me” channel. Once shaken, their attention is on the moment and they’ll be able to help me help them.
“OK, let’s do this then. My first question is a yes or no; do you know why you didn’t want to do the 200 IM?” I asked with a tone of voice revealing how truly curious about it I was.
I found that each athlete has a specific amount of delicateness, in the sense that every athlete is different in terms of how gentle I had to be to guide them without having them close up. Eric needed me to be very delicate with him or he would close up at the first occasion.
“Yes.” he answered still without raising his head up.
“Do you want to tell me?” I asked with the same tone.
He sighed, lifted his chin just enough for his eye to look at me ever so briefly and said faintly: “I don’t like the 200 IM.”
After waiting a moment, to make sure he had nothing else to add, I said nonchalantly: “It’s your choice, not everybody has to like the 200 IM.”
“But I think if we want to find the lesson and make this swim worth it, we have to look into why you don’t like the 200 IM.” I said inviting him to share something more.
He was remaining silent. I knew the more time I held his silence, the more time he would spend thinking about his answer. Unfortunately, with many swimmers waiting for their post race feedback, I had to speed things up.
“Tell me instead, how you see yourself in the 200 IM? Do you see yourself as a 200IMer or the 200IM is the event you’re the less likely to be good at?” I asked offering questions inspired by the vibes I could feel during the prolonged silence between us.
His eyes came up again and he faintly said: “less likely to be good at.”
“In my professional opinion, that is questionable. In a few years, the 200 IM could very well be your best race. It wouldn’t be the first time I see something like this happens.” I said without making him feel wrong or bad and reminding him that the future hasn’t been written yet.
I didn’t want to dig deeper than this on his feeling of inadequacy in the 200 IM even though there seemed to be much to uncover there. Instead I felt the best lesson this swim had to offer him was in adjusting his mindset to enable him to see better and agree, that giving one’s best shot isn’t only for times where we feel good at something, but it’s for everything we do.
Everything is Kung Fu!
“Ok, so let’s look at it this way: you’ve heard me millions of time saying a race is a race, right?”
His head was higher now and he looked a lot more comfortable than just a few minutes prior.
He nodded while saying yes.
“What does it mean, do you know?” I asked encouraging him to explain.
“It means all races are important.” He answered robotically for having heard it so many times.
“Why is it crucial for the swimmers to see all their races equally important? Do you know?” I asked with a tone saying I would tell him if he didn’t know yet.
He shrugged his shoulders as an answer while making brief eye contact.
“OK, so I’ll explain. Imagine two race car drivers. One’s attitude is that every time he is behind the wheel, the race is on. It’s to the point where he can only be behind the wheel if the car is on a race track, otherwise he’s too dangerous, it doesn’t even matter what kind of car either. The other’s attitude is the race is on, only when the race is on. This one drives like a grandpa on a Sunday drive during his practices and races only when driving his favorite car. You’re seeing them?” I asked encouraging him to visualize the situation in his mind.
“If I asked you, which one of the two is more likely to improve faster, what would you answer?”
He thought about it for a moment and then said: “Probably the one with the race is on mindset.”
“I agree with you but why is that? Why would he improve faster than the other guy?”
“Because he goes at his best more often.” He said reluctantly after realizing he couldn’t deny behaving as the second driver.
After a pause and without even taking one breathe, he pleaded: “I didn’t really want to give up but it was so hard, my arms and legs felt like rocks. I really felt like I was going to die.”
The defensiveness I had perceived in his plead was a sign for me to be even more delicate in my attempt at helping him gain a worthy lesson from his experience.
He was looking down again dreading what I would say.
Changing my angle, I continued: “Ok, let’s look at that. Can you tell me the exact spot in the swim where you started dying?” I asked him in my curious tone.
He answered that it happened in the first 25 of backstroke, about 10 meters in.
“Can you tell me verbatim, the sentences you could hear in your mind just before the fly to back turn please?”
For Eric, as for many other swimmers, the challenge isn’t in remembering verbatim their internal dialogue but rather in not judging it.
“They’re already ahead of me, it’s just gonna get worse now.” reluctantly he nonetheless answered knowing from previous experiences that whatever he would say, I wouldn’t judge him.
“Ok, I see and what about just before you started feeling the pain in your arms and legs?”
I could tell he was fighting with himself to be able to say it out loud. He didn’t look too proud.
“It’s over, what’s the point?” He finally blurted out.
“Then you started feeling the pain?” I asked him to confirm.
He nodded slowly.
“Ok, so think about your best race ever, the one you’re the most proud of.”
After giving him a short time to reminisce I continued: “Did you feel pain in that race?”
After a while he said that although the race had not been easy, he had not felt pain as in today’s race.
“Isn’t this weird? Your best race ever, just a bit of pain and a swim like today with full on “I’m dying” pain! How can this be explained?” I asked him as he was already considering this counter intuitive situation.
After a moment of silence I continued: “In which race were you putting in more effort, in your best race or today?”
He answered without hesitation that it was during his best race ever that he had put the greatest amount of effort.
“Do you think then that the pain you felt today is related to the effort you were putting in your swim?” I asked encouraging him to answer me.
I could see he was considering what I was pointing out.
“If that pain didn’t come from the effort, where did it come from?”
“My head?” He said clearly intrigued.
“Our minds are so powerful, it’s crazy! With just one thought, it can make the body feel all sorts of pains and aches, it’s really amazing and sometimes even hard to believe.”
It really looked like he was having a hard time accepting that our minds could affect our body with such immediate and intense effects.
“When you heard your little devil say it was over, what’s the point, what would have happened if you would have stopped swimming and gotten out of the pool?”
He looked at me with a weird face meaning, no one ever does that, get out of the pool in the middle of a race?
“Imagine if you had swam this with the same splits but without the pain.”
After a little bit I continued: “Wouldn’t that be like walking out of the pool?”
His eyes widened as if he was on the cusp of understanding something important.
“Without the pain, it would have been quite difficult for you to say you’ve tried. But with the terrible pain you felt, you can tell yourself and everyone who wants to hear it, that you’ve tried, that today was just not your day. So you see? This terrible pain is like a tool our mind uses to protect our self-image. Without the pain you wouldn’t have been able to say that you tried. What would you think of someone who got out of the pool in the middle of a race which wasn’t going as he wanted?”
“A quitter I guess.”
“Do you know anyone who wants to be called a quitter?”
He shook his head negatively.
“That’s how by creating the pain, the mind protects the self-image. It gives it a”real” reason.”
“But the pain was real.” he said interrupting me.
“I know how real and intense it was, I believe you. I’ve fallen for this so many times myself as a swimmer. I know how it feels. I had to have many of this kind of swims to understand what really was happening. The best way I found to avoid this kind of situations, was to make it so that I felt like all my races were just as important as the races I wanted to win at the Olympics. That worked for me but I also had a backup plan in case one day I would feel that kind of pain again. My plan was to test “letting go”.
He twisted his head, intrigued.
“I found that every time I had one of those experiences, there was something I was refusing to let go, something I wanted to keep holding on to. For example, I remember a 200 butterfly race in Quebec city. I must have been 17. I think it was in the third 50, around the 145th meter of the race. Like you, I hit a sudden wall of pain and very suddenly I could barely get my arms out of the water. I remember feeling like I could see and hear people I knew in the bleachers, talking about me. They were making very mean observations about me and the situation I was experiencing. They were saying things like: look at him, he barely can swim, he’s so bad, definitely not a champion, maybe he’s going to drown while laughing at me. I’m sure it’s not hard for you to understand how angry, helpless and beaten I was feeling. In this example what do you think I was not willing to let go?”
I decided to ask him to tell me because I felt it would give him a chance to think about it further.
He was thinking about it while I handled the athletes behind me. Some needed pre-race talk, others had questions from their parents and more were waiting for post-race feedback.
“What people think of you.” He answered giving me the impression he might have had something similar to let go of.
“At first it looked like that for me too, but when I looked a bit deeper into it, I realized that what they thought of me, bothered me only because I knew they were right! I believed what they were saying about me! So what I had to let go of was really those beliefs I had about myself that the people talking about me were exposing.”
His eyes widened and I took it as a sign it was sinking in.
“If I’d experience something like that again, I would let go by first taking a very deep breath while I’m swimming. And as I’d exhale, I would then attempt at slowing down the speed at which I’d be talking to myself, you know in my head. I would test this first as whenever I do this, I can think more clearly. I’m sure thinking clearly would help me see and remember that what other people say about me in the bleacher is just a spotlight beam exposing the beliefs I have about myself, that I need to abandon, delete, adjust or let go of.”
After another distraction from the swimmers behind us, I refocused my attention on him and noticed how he was now sitting straight and had lost his long face.
“Does that help you see your swim differently? Do you still feel the same way about it now?” I asked even though it was obvious he didn’t feel defeated any longer.
He answered he was ok now. He was showing signs of being antsy to go see his friends waiting for him further back. Our time was up.
“Alright, I’ll see you Tuesday at practice, I’m glad we got to talk about this.” I said as I was showing him he could go.
As good as our talk had been and considering all the variables involved in such situations, I knew it would still be quite a while before he would be able to avoid this pitfall. I also knew that we would have plenty of opportunities to address the same themes in the future and that over time he would be able to adjust his approach to the events he doesn’t like or feel competent in.
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