Competitive Wellness Series - Primal Cues

I’m currently listening to “The Talent Code”, by Daniel Coyle on Audible, and if you’re in the market, even just for a single chapter of a book, Chapter 5 on “primal cues” is an eye opener. The book itself investigates talent: how it develops, why “hotbeds” exist, and what to do to enhance it. With a heavy stress on myelin, and its role in increasing speed of electrical communication between neurons in the brain, Coyle investigates ways to maximize training, acquisition, and performance. 

My knowledge of such things is limited, but my interest is deep. Training is training, coaching is coaching, but understanding where talent, and talented performance, come from essentially sets a neurological goal for each task. It is no longer, “Do this over and over until you get it right,” but “Do this with the intention of mastering this piece of the larger puzzle before we move on.” There are so many layers to each instruction, and then just as many to each execution, evaluation, and effortful change, as Coyle notes with many examples. Chapter 5 explained one of these layers explicitly. 

Coyle discusses his own children, noting their individual abilities in regards to foot speed. This led to an investigation of both 100 meter dash champions and top NFL running backs. A leap from his own kids running in the backyard, exposed was a correlation between birth order and some of the fastest athletes of all time. Typically, these athletes were late in the birth order in their families. The association, the bridge, was that these humans spent the early portion of their lives “keeping up” with the rest of their family. This provided an increased need for quickness, and a greater length of time developing myelin around neurons sending messages of speed. 

In regards to “primal cues”, Coyle refers to those instincts that have been part of human existence since...well human existence. They are the triggers and motivations that have risen with evolution because, those who didn’t possess them or develop them in an appropriate amount of time, didn’t survive. These factors are ones that can produce learning and purposeful practice more naturally. See: the youngest child trying to keep up with his or her older siblings so as not to be left behind. 

As an athlete growing up, I never developed that “killer instinct”. I was much more cognitive than carnal. My old high school coach introduced me to the new coach at my alma mater as “maybe the most intellectual player the program has ever had”. Knowing his intending it as a compliment, I also understood how it is exactly what made me a waste of potential, (and also led me into a profession of helping young athletes avoid the same fate). 

Within a program and community of abundance, we had two freshman teams and a sophomore team before JV and Varsity merged as one. The first true “trigger” of survival came in year two, cutting from two teams to one. From both playing days and coaching, the “B team” players who made the Sophomore team almost always had a different edge to them. That competitive spirit that you rallied the team around came from the “less talented” players. Was this the result of them having worked harder and improved more? Was it the result of them kicking into “survival mode” thinking the deck was stacked against them? I would venture the same is probably true of athletes in an environment with only a JV and Varsity squad. The compression of the learning curve associated with an activity an athlete is passionate about may be the key to quicker and/or greater success. 

All of this is well and good; insight into what may trigger effortful practice and intention of humans for improvement. However, if we aren’t able to apply this to our students, athletes, and ourselves, then we risk being those early humans that didn’t make it, or the younger sibling that wasn’t interested in keeping up...we may simply fall behind. So what do we do? What can we offer? How much can we convince our athletes that Now isn’t the end? How do we hit that trigger for a primal cue in a healthy and supportive way? Listed below are some quick thoughts to reflect upon: 

Create eustress in a controlled environment (a feeling of danger in a safe place)

Ex. Fluctuating lineups, awareness of competition

Provide an abundance of opportunity to fail and correct

Ex. Encouraging independent practice time of concepts

(I hesitate on “provide” because if the athlete is truly triggered, he/she will create that time on their own)

”Your survival is someone else’s survival” (create community of mutual reliance)

Ex. Team goals and consequences based on individual achievement

Most of these concepts come naturally to (good) teachers and coaches: find a way to motivate and expose bit-by-bit to stress that can be overcome. We each have our own ways of forging the steel of the next class or generation, and it always requires fire. The example that continues to play in my head is a childhood terror: the basement. Cognitively, there was no monster lurking, waiting for the light to turn off for its opportunity to attack you in whatever distance there was from the switch to the door. However evolutionary primal cues screamed inside us, “Get up the stairs as fast as humanly possible or you won’t make it out alive!” The footspeed, coordination, and confidence to move quickly that came out of that experience may have created some incredible athletes...if only we can harness that and use it for purposeful improvement. 

Stay scared friends, 

Own Your I

Follow up research: 

“The Talent Code” Daniel Coyle

“The Culture Code” Daniel Coyle

Martin Eisenstadt - clinical psychologist, parental-loss

Eustress

Competitive Wellness Series - Failure as the Challenge

I recently trekked to Garrettsville, Ohio for a Spartan obstacle race. Participating in the “Beast” version of the event, I had 13+ miles and 30+ obstacles between me and my first ever “Trifecta”, (the completion of the three core races of the Spartan promotion at different distances). Being the reluctant runner that I am, I was thankful for the muddy and thigh-high aquatic excuses to pace myself to solid-ground jogs and precarious-footing power-walks. After a palm-tear early in the race, (most frustratingly because of a mental lapse, not a physical one, though I was able to complete the obstacle during which it occurred), I had something to occupy the sensorial survival input and distract me from the distance still left to be covered.

Now, it needs to be very clear that I am not competitive outside of myself in these events. I run in the Open heats, that is, I am very realistic that if I entered my own age group it would spark a Rube Goldberg-esq chain of mental, emotional, and competitive personal judgments that would penetrate the perimeter of my peaceful, passive, protected Pride. That’s an overstatement, maybe, in that it takes away from the enjoyment of the Open. The whole draw of the Spartan Race for me has been connection to family, to friends, and to fellow racers. To help, to be helped, to recognize those who may need help, and to recognize when that “those” may include me, the value of these experiences are irreplaceable. Don’t get me wrong, those that race Elite and Age Group are incredible athletes and competitors, and I enjoy watching those races as a fan. I just know the Present Moment Me.

Immediately beyond the Sprint (3+ miles), Super (8+), and Beast (12+), lies the Spartan Ultra, a race doubled the Beast. This race hit the starting line well before the Open heat I was in, donning their purple pinnies. There were moments along the course where our courses overlapped, which led to some truly…genuine…interactions. These athletes were pushing themselves to perceived limits, either confirming them or blasting right through. During one particularly muddy trudge, most likely carrying something, I heard a couple Ultra racers talking about challenging themselves.

It followed along the lines of, “I’ve done the other races and wanted to really push myself” and, “I’m competitive and understand this is about finishing, but I can’t stand the thought of failing”. I took liberties to add a whole lot of words and delete a whole lot of grunts and obscenities, but that was the gist of it.

As I walked slightly ahead of them, (not bragging, they’d probably done twice the distance I had to that point), I heard this and began thinking that maybe for her the true challenge was not the race itself, but Failure.

As athletes and competitors, we are programmed to “hate losing more than we like winning”, an oversimplification and complete disregard for the value of failure as an input to greater success. How many times do we see success, or winning, beget complacency and underachievement? How often do we see those, who accept and embrace a setback, overcome even greater odds to become victorious, either in the standings, in the contest, or simply in life? It would be negligent of us to discard the possibility of Failure being the endgame of some endeavors. Maybe the challenge is failing. Kudos to those who are brave enough, and secure enough, to put themselves in a position where this may be the case, considering we are often impressed to believe failure is…well…failure.

I’m not the motivational type, not externally at least. I’m not going to tell you “the Universe only gives you what you can handle” or the like. I’m not saying anything new or unique, I’m not changing the world with Thought. Sometimes the consideration is the first step toward recovery, or achievement, or the final step to the Past…or something more poetic. Just consider that maybe knowing how to fail is an integral part of knowing how to succeed.

Before my race, there had been a few moments of “what ifs” that resulted in me not completing the Beast. On average, who I am said I would not have handled that very well. The “competitively well” of me made solid efforts to justify and weasel some sense into thinking I would have been ok with it, but for the most part even the thought of failure ate away at me. This isn’t always a “practice what you preach” arena…I know I”m still growing. The competitor in me will always punch my insides when I see my finishing time, or ranking, but I’ve extensive experience with losing, so I continue to master it.

Like when I saw that Elite runner, Ryan Woods, finished the Spartan Ultra, (DOUBLE the length and obstacles), two minutes faster than I finished the Beast…

Fail Well, Friends…but not too often.

The Era of Instant Replay and Asterisks

This post is coming on the heels…or hooves…of recent events in this year’s Kentucky Derby, but bubbles up from months of frustration as a sports fan. The technological advances both surrounding and within athletic events are not only a thief of a the joy of sport, but also a sad reflection of the direction society has gone.

I watched the Kentucky Derby at a bar, thus, did not hear any of the commentary involved during the objection and overruling of the results of the race. I’m assuming that it’s not ok for a horse to cut-off other horses…(even though it seems like a completely instinctual move, not simply a product of the frontal cortex…though the blinders…anyway)…so I understand that if that was the penalty, so be it. (See: what used to be a Playoff foul in the NBA vs what’s now a week long investigation into criminal action). A few things concerned me, watching soundlessly as the decision unfolded. First was that War of Will (ironically the horse I had picked to win) was nowhere to be seen or heard from during the review. From a novice perspective, that was the horse that was cut-off, so, shouldn’t they be the ones most upset? Second was the coy look of the Plaintiff…just yuck. Third, after the overruling of the actual results of the contest, the new-”winning” jockey tore handfuls of roses off the rose-blanket (which I believe is the horse’s reward) and tossed them up in the air. Maybe this is a tradition I’m not familiar with, but if it isn't, again, yuck.

Shifting gears, the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament this year involved so…many…replays. The first two rounds were riddled with stoppages and non-floortime impacts. I understand protecting players, especially from tie-ups…elbows and such…but they began reviewing every time someone lifted their hands above their own shoulders to find out if someone may have been grazed. Then, in the penultimate game of all that competition and joy, it was brought up and replayed…over and over…that there should have been a double-dribble called, which could have directly affected the outcome of the game.

Why do we have human officials? If we are going to now teach them to hesitate, and go against professional instinct, to wait to allow the appropriate amount of time to pass so that we may then second-guess them on national tv “the right way”…then why not just get rid of them? We could have the players themselves call their own fouls and penalties, and use camera replay to either confirm or deny, then penalize them if they were lying. We could have the games played and recorded, and then just broadcast the final, edited, 100% accurate results. We could just play the game with a suggestion of rules, and let the game reveal the true character of the players in the spirit of competition as it unfolds in real-time, subject only to each of our allegiances and opinions.

What we are all being cheated out of is good, old-fashioned excitement; pure, unadulterated joy, pain, anxiety…the columns of sport spectating. Pick your most memorable sports-viewing experience. Now imagine watching a deliberation and lengthy video-review and then EITHER having it overturned, or having someone confirm that your excitement was warranted. How sour is that feeling? Whose right is it to take that away from us? I know something about reserved exhilaration while awaiting results. It isn’t fair.

We live in a society where everyone feels entitled to their side of the story. Children believe they have a say in all matters and adults believe it just takes time, pesterance, and/or money to get their own way. Being upset is close to being associated with someone caring. I’ve cheered for teams, I’ve played on teams, and I’ve coached teams that have lost with human officiating error being a factor, (notice I’m not even saying a major answer). You learn to deal with it. You learn to have perspective on the things you could control. You learn that it isn’t the end of the world, and that not everyone is perfect all the time. Rather valuable life lessons, would you agree? Sports are meant to be a microcosm of Life, and an advantage of learning to all of those who participate. If we allow sports to go the way of society, we are all doomed.

I’m ok being upset. I’m ok losing (only as a natural potential consequence of entering into competition). I’m not ok with replay. I’m not ok with entitlement. I’m not ok with asterisks. I’m ok with excitement, with sitting on the edge of my seat and either being knocked back or propelled upward with emotion. I’m ok with men and women making mistakes in their job, (especially if there is an in-house consequence after). I’m ok with humans. I’m ok with accountability. I’m ok with sport and everything it used to be. I’m ok with competition and everything it used to be. I’m ok with taking things back that direction.

Come with me. Grab a friend.

Own Your I