Above All Else, page 28
The fear of losing and becoming losers may very well have been the single biggest factor that kept us from winning.
The loss of the meet was the proof we needed that there was nothing to fear. Victory alone hadn’t made us winners, and defeat did not define us as losers. Our true friends didn’t feel any differently about us whether we won or lost. The people who loved us didn’t love us any more or less one way or the other.
The truth is that we were unquestionably stronger, tougher, and better competitors when we returned to competition after the loss. The lesson we learned prepared us to enter competition fearlessly, without any caution. We arrived with nothing to lose and everything to gain. This approach gave us the confidence to always push for our best performance and to never settle for less.
We couldn’t completely control whether we won or lost, so we didn’t sweat it. What we did have complete control over was choosing to be fearless, choosing and demanding our personal best from ourselves, and expecting it from each other. Choosing to play to win.
It was an incredibly valuable lesson in “winning,” and one that could only be learned by experiencing defeat.
9
Competitive Magic
IT IS ALL working for you. You know what your best is, and you are certain that you will deliver it. You and your team are confident in your abilities, but don’t fear making mistakes. You keep your activity of choice in perspective and enjoy it for the fun and love of the game and the personal challenge it presents. You have learned to appreciate your teammates and yourself for who you are, not just for what you can do, and your respect for each other is strong enough to withstand any meet results. But you arrive at the competition and your heart is pounding, your brow sweating, and your fingers buzzing. You’re still terrified!
Or are you? The physiological sensations we interpret as fear are also signs of an intensified state of readiness. This high arousal increases our potential for strength, speed, and mental sharpness. If properly utilized, becoming excited and tense in competition can be a very powerful tool and a great benefit to you. Don’t be afraid of it.
It is natural when in “competition” to experience a higher state of arousal than normal. Heart pounding and fingers tingling are symptoms of being alert, energized, and ready for action. Don’t interpret this as fear. It is only a game. There is nothing to be scared of. Don’t allow yourself to go down that path.
It is not how you feel, but how you respond to these feelings, that will decide if you stay and fight or run in flight. And you can choose how you want to respond.
When you experience the physical symptoms of a high arousal level, stop, sit back, and take a few deep breaths. Confirm your goal and remind yourself of your training. Your goal is to do your best. You know exactly what your best is. You know how to deliver it and deserve to be confident that you will deliver it.
You’ve trained smart and proven it again and again in your training. You are not going to try to do any better than your best, and you will not accept any worse. Calm your mind down and allow your instincts to take over. It has worked in training, and it will work now.
These are confidence-building thoughts. Your goal is clear and you know you can achieve it. When you confirm your goals and think logically, the fear fades away and the sensations you are feeling tell you that your senses are on high alert and that you are ready. The sensations you once interpreted as fear are now the source of competitive magic.
Trusting our instincts to lead us to our best performance, in combination with this heightened arousal level, sets the stage for those moments when we do the unbelievable and actually perform beyond our best.
We don’t usually “peak” at meets and reach a level of performance we have never achieved before by “trying” to do better. More often, we accomplish these amazing feats when our goal is clear, we have proven in training we can deliver it, and the circumstances of the moment demand that we deliver it.
It is a miniature version of what enables true heroes to perform miraculous tasks. What lifeguard, soldier, fireman, or policeman has ever saved a life without being terrified? What parent has rescued her child without her arousal level going through the roof ? Their fears are far more intense than our competitive anxieties will ever be, and they performed far greater feats than we hope will ever be asked of us. If, when faced with fear or experiencing a high arousal level, they can perform these tasks, surely the rest of us are capable of performing at our best or better in an activity we’ve trained in.
Examples of Competitive Magic in Action
The 1995 World Skydiving Championships
At the 1995 world championships, the meet was very close between Arizona Airspeed and the French. We exited the aircraft on the fifth round with the first formation of the sequence intact. The “key person” signaled to break (release) the grips of the first formation, but not all of the team saw the break. There was total confusion as some of the team transitioned to the second formation while others were still building the first one. We were scrambling, complete chaos. Our first reaction was one of anger and panic, and our arousal level went off the charts.
Suddenly we froze. We took a breath, calmed down, and got control of our emotions. Without speaking a word, the decision was made to build the second formation. Our focus was intense and targeted only on the next point. We broke that formation and continued with the sequence faster than we had ever gone before.
We didn’t “try” to go faster. Our anger had significantly raised our arousal to a level we had never experienced. But when we stopped and took a moment to calm down, we were able to control ourselves at this level of arousal. Our instincts took over, and we came back on fire. We recovered, accelerated, and maintained the fastest speed we’d ever achieved all the way to the finish line.
Had we allowed our fears and panic to get the better of us, we would have lost the jump and probably the meet. Instead, we did what was very possibly the fastest 4-way jump that had ever been done by any team up to that time.
We were flying so fast that the meet organizers thought we must have been using a performance-enhancing substance. It was really quite a compliment. They couldn’t imagine that we were able to do this without some kind of extra chemical stimulation. (Oddly enough, and maybe because of this jump, in the following year, at the 1996 World Games, they began random drug testing to ensure the athletes were clean.)
We landed from the jump and didn’t even know what to make of it ourselves. I remember asking my teammates, “What the hell was that? We’ve never gone that fast before.” Later that day we had a long conversation trying to figure out what exactly happened that had brought about this level of performance. We determined that it was a combination of conditions and circumstances, most of which we had trained for.
1. We were a very well-trained team. We knew what our best was and what we had to do to perform at that level.
2. We had practiced pushing our best to new heights, and though that wasn’t the plan for this jump, when the circumstances suddenly changed and demanded more from us, we weren’t uncomfortable with the idea of going for it.
3. When our arousal level went through the roof, we knew to take a moment, calm down, and get it under control.
4. There was one thing which, after thinking it through, took us by surprise. We realized at that moment there was zero performance anxiety. We had just made a huge mistake that cost us 20 percent of our working time. We were pissed off, and since we had already screwed up, we weren’t worried about it anymore. We had no concern for the final outcome, but we had total and complete concern for the immediate task at hand. Obviously this had freed us of something that had been holding us back, because we proceeded to outdo the best skydive we had ever done.
No matter how much we had discussed eliminating any performance anxiety in our training, it still was the one thing left that had held us back from performing at the very top of our potential. Without that fear, we were able to take our best to an entirely new level.
We went on to win the meet but didn’t have another jump that was quite as good as that one was.
1997 World Skydiving Championships
At the 1997 world championships we had a similar experience. After seven rounds, we were in first place with a 6-point lead over France.
The eighth round was off to a good start, and we were several points into it. The key person broke the formation, but like in ’95, everyone on the team didn’t see the break. This time the result was far worse. The confusion that followed cost us 6 points. In one jump we had given away our entire lead. We went into the final round with only a 1-point lead, not nearly enough to be comfortable with.
One jump. The entire meet had come down to one jump. We were confident that we were the better team, but as we had just proven, anything can happen in one jump.
Fortunately, we had the experience from 1995 to reflect on.
Having won the 1994, 1995, and 1996 U.S. nationals as well as the world cup, World Games, and world championship, we were able to keep the “victory” itself in perspective. We were doing better handling the performance anxiety than I could have sworn we had trained not to have at all.
We were always playing to win. But we also knew that this victory alone did not define our value as human beings and competitors. The love and respect we had for each other and our team would not be changed by the results of this one meet. We weren’t scared of losing.
That being said, playing to win means hating to lose, refusing to lose. The circumstances demanded we deliver our absolute best performance, and that was precisely what we were going to do.
When we lined up in the door to exit the plane on the final round, our determination was unquestionable, and previously unmatched. I knew that this was the feeling I had spent my entire life trying and wanting to experience. Finally, as I was waiting for “my cue,” for the pilot to give the exit command, I felt a level of absolute fearless confidence I had never experienced before. I didn’t care whether we won or lost. But I knew without a doubt that we were about to do a skydive that no team on earth was going to be able to come close to matching. I was so excited I couldn’t wait to get out of the plane.
We paused prior to giving the exit count. Looking into each other’s eyes, it was obvious that there was no fear, and no doubt. It was pure determination, pure certainty; we knew exactly what we were about to do and we had trained to do it.
It was easy to let go of any concern for the final results and focus only on the task at hand because this one jump would alone determine the outcome.
We knew our arousal level was too high and took one more deep breath to calm ourselves down so that our instincts could take over. We were calm. Our eyes were locked together, clearly communicating our feelings and intentions. We exited the plane and instantly established total control. We had chosen to be confident before even boarding the plane. That instinctive confidence took over, and we had one of the best jumps of our lives. We beat the French team by 3 points in one jump. The meet was over.
10
You Win the
Competition Before It Starts
WE LANDED ON that final round of the 1997 world meet with an incredible feeling of success. But the feeling of satisfaction we felt after succeeding paled in comparison to the feeling of confident anticipation we felt prior to exiting the plane for that jump. Eagerly anticipating the coming challenge was far more powerful a feeling than looking back on it.
Prior to boarding the plane, we had already decided our future. It was our jump, and we would choose what to do with it. We knew exactly what our best was, and we had no doubt that we were going to do it. We had trained and prepared for this moment, and we were unquestionably determined to see it through.
From the time we boarded the plane until we were standing on the ramp ready to exit, our confidence and determination only became stronger. We didn’t know if we would win, and we really didn’t care. It didn’t matter. We knew that we had to deliver our best. Standing in the door of the plane with this pure confidence and purpose was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. My heart was racing, but I was fearless.
I had never felt more like a winner than I did at that moment. And we hadn’t won yet! The experience of the actual “victory” was nothing in comparison to feeling this absolute certainty during the moments leading up to it. That was truly “feeling the force.”
This perspective, attitude, belief, and determination are the qualities that define what it means to be a winner. These are qualities you bring to the game. They aren’t a result determined by the final outcome of the game.
It proved to me one more time that it wasn’t about winning after all. It was about playing to win.
About the Author
DAN BRODSKY-CHENFELD HAS been a national skydiving competitor since 1983. Dan’s extraordinary talent for bringing out the best in others has made him one of the most influential people in the history of skydiving and one of the most sought-after coaches in the world. Among his most recent successes is coaching the U.S. women's 4-way team Synchronicity (2004 and 2005) and the U.K. women's teams Airkix (2006) and Storm (2008) to victory at the world championships. As a competitor Dan has lead teams to multiple National Championship Gold Medal victories and World Championships. He lives in Temecula, California, with his wife and children. He runs Skydive Perris, one of the largest skydiving centers in the world, with his partners Pat and Melanie Conatser.
Dan Brodsky-Chenfeld, Above All Else
