The Invisible Opponent

Last March, a friend and I went to the Staples Center to watch the ladies’ long program at worlds. I hadn’t attended a skating competition since quitting the sport in 2005, and I was stunned by the emotions that immediately hit me when I entered the building. Instantly my stomach started to tense up. As we sat down in our seats, my palms got sweaty. Sitting in the nose bleed section, overlooking thousands of skating fans with their eyes glued to the sole skater in the middle of the ice, I suddenly felt like I was going to pass out. The beating of my heart became so rapid that I had to shakily ask my friend if we could leave the action momentarily to take a breather. Although no eyes were on me that day, and my skates were safely tucked away in a hall closet at home, somewhere deep in my subconscious my body was preparing itself to compete.

The sensations that I felt that day in March used to be the norm for me, and the majority of skaters competing today experience feelings of intense anxiety prior to every competition. Although these physical sensations can be tough to deal with, nothing is worse than the thoughts of self-doubt that can plague a competitor on the day of a big event.

Last Sunday the NYTimes ran a very good article discussing these pre-event nerves that swimmers–and all athletes–feel before and during important competitions. These powerful feelings can be extremely detrimental to an athlete’s performance. While competing in front of thousands in the audience and millions watching at home on television obviously comes with its fair share of jitters, it’s vital that an athlete finds a way to successfully handle their anxiety.

Michael Phelps, arguably the most solid competitor in sports history, has worked diligently with his coach, Bob Bowman, to perfect relaxation and visualization techniques, which he says helps to prepare him for the good and the bad of an event.

Bowman introduced Phelps, who is scheduled to race in three individual events and three relays here, to a progressive relaxation program based on the recitation of cues. Every night before Phelps went to sleep, his mother, Debbie, would sit with him in his dimly lighted bedroom and command him to relax different parts of his body.

After a while, Phelps could relax without his mother’s cues. He became adept at placing himself in that same meditative state in the ready room before a race. Once he has cleared his mind and loosened his limbs, Phelps will swim each race over and over in his mind.

It is not just the perfect race that Phelps pictures. He sees himself overcoming ever conceivable obstacle to achieve his goal time so that when he stands on the blocks he feels as if nothing can stand in the way of him succeeding.

“I do go through everything for a best-case scenario to the worst-case scenario just so I’m ready for anything that comes my way,” Phelps said.

It seems like Phelps’ pre-competition routine has been extremely successful for him. Finding a solution, like Phelps has, to handle nerves can make or break an athlete’s career.

Some skaters have been known to rise above and thrive under intense pressure, for example Nancy Kerrigan at the 1994 Olympic games. Others, like Kurt Browning, crumble during what could have been their moment at Olympic glory. It can be a career-long battle for some to overcome anxiety and the crippling feelings relating to self-doubt.

When I first started competing at the junior and senior levels, although I would get extremely nervous prior to a big competition, I was a very consistent competitor. No matter how much was riding on an event, I generally managed to keep it together and skated clean programs. However, moments before leaving my hotel room to compete, I, like Michael Phelps, had to go through a pre-event ritual. It wasn’t a form of meditation, and I didn’t visualize my programs. Rather, I would make myself cry.

Although it sounds odd, allowing myself to cry would enable that buildup of tension, which grew throughout the day prior to an event, to release itself. I would give myself about ten minutes, and I would get all my anxiety out through my tears. Once my self-imposed time limit was up, I would put on my makeup and head to the arena. It was like a brief thunderstorm. After a day of intense humidity and heat, the rain and thunder of tears brought with it a sense of relief, leaving me feeling cleansed and ready to tackle the competition.

As I grew up, though, I started to experience nagging doubts not so much prior to but rather during my performances. No matter how well I had been skating in practice, or how strong I felt leading up to an event, once I stood alone center ice waiting for my music to begin all I would feel was extreme fear. Knowing that it was only a matter of seconds before the first chords of music were played, and the fate of my performance would be decided, my mind became a flurry of thoughts and questions. What if I miss my triple loop? I worked so hard in practice, I hope my hard work pays off. I had a bad warm-up. That probably means this is going to be a horrible skate. Am I going to land my opening combination? I can’t miss it again. I can’t forget to breathe. Shoot, I forgot to get a sip of water. Standing there, center ice, beautifully made up with a smile plastered on my face, my mind became a manic mess. Following my skate, I was often left feeling angry with myself for letting these thoughts affect me. It was incredibly frustrating to stumble over elements that came so easily to me in practice and during competition just a few years earlier.

Unfortunately, it is quite common for many athletes struggle with the pressure of competition as they transition from a teen to a young adult. Often when an athlete starts to understand the impact of a particular event, it becomes unbelievably difficult to stay calm in the moment and not let the “what ifs” and unnecessary fear to take over. Adding to that, the more success a skater achieves, the harder it can be for them to allow their mind to shut off and to let muscle memory do its job. Winning a title once is hard, but defending that title can be ten times harder due to the pressure, doubt, and a realization of what losing it could mean.

I was not alone in my struggle to control my anxiety during competition and numerous skaters struggle with intense feelings of pressure and anxiety during their performances. One skater told me that the hardest thing for her to deal with wasn’t her nerves leading up to the event, which she could handle well, but rather her impulse to leave the ice every time her name was announced to start her program. She harbored a deep fear that one day she was going to act on this impulse, leaving her pairs partner alone in the middle of the ice to fend for himself.

Another skater told me that the only way he could shut out his negative thoughts during an event was to silently swear under his breath before every jump. By focusing on various curse words his mind was distracted from his fear of falling. And a former national champion said that while his nerves were the highest before he took the ice, during his program he felt like a passive audience member, without any control over his performance. Once his program was complete he couldn’t remember what had happened, and he would often have to rely on his coach to tell him how he had skated.

Competing will never be easy, and although it will always come with it its fair share of sweaty palms and butterfly-filled stomachs, it should be an opportunity for athletes to show off all the hard work they have done in training. It’s terrible watching skaters like Carolina Kostner and Alissa Czisny skate so well in practice only to falter when the lights are on. These women are unbelievably talented, and unfortunately it appears that their nerves continually get the best of them. However, being able to handle these feelings goes along with being a champion, and hopefully this season they will find their self-confidence, which appears to have been missing at crucial events in the past.

Fear and anxiety during a competition can seem insurmountable at times, but athletes who are able to face these feelings and manage their self-doubt are those who are the most successful. Whether it’s having to swear under your breath prior to an important element, crying, or learning effective visualization techniques, getting a handle on a fear of failure and the nerves that come along with a big event can be the difference between a medal and coming home empty handed.

When I look back on my career now there are times when I kick myself for allowing self-doubt to creep in. My advice to skaters competing today would be to fight that uncertainty as hard as they can. Remember: If you can do it in practice, there is no reason why you can‘t skate well during a competition. Giving these negative thoughts power will only result in frustration and a feeling of missed opportunities, and there is no place for doubt in the winner’s circle.