It doesn’t matter how much you want it if you can’t execute.
It doesn’t matter how “fit” you are if you’re distracted.
It doesn’t matter how “tough” you are if you’re at your limit.
I wasn’t a good mountain bike rider until I could skid sideways and endo a landing on purpose.
I had a long period during which I could ride the rowdiest trails for fun in dry conditions but couldn’t corner on the flat in the rain. But once I could deliver my skills no matter the conditions — in fact, when I could save the worst-odds situations in the worst conditions — and in reality, when I could recreate the worst-odds situations any time I wanted to — I became a good mountain bike rider.
I’m not the absolute fastest when I line up to race. This isn’t me claiming to be the best. But I’m a lot faster than a casual rider and able to navigate so many sketchy situations…that I actually get into fewer sketchy situations.
I have capacity as a mountain bike rider.
Riding technical terrain at speed only costs, let’s say, 75% of my attention. Correcting a mistake or navigating an unexpected obstacle may cost another 10%. Bad weather might be 5 or 10%, depending just how bad it really is. I have room for a mechanical to occur or for a bug to smack my glasses or for someone to crash in front of me without it wrecking my rhythm.
As an athlete, have you refined your technique to the point that you have excess capacity?
It’s not until you can anticipate your opponent’s next move and choose how you throw that you own the technique.
It’s not until you can make mistakes on purpose that you really know what good technique is.
It’s not until you can feel the movement while you imagine it — no actual motion — that you really know what your technique is.
Before I take heavy snatches in training, I visualize my lift. There’s a moment after the bar passes my knees but before I extend my legs (all called the “second pull”) that I can’t ever really see in the movie in my head. I have to focus on cues and rhythm through the second pull to execute my technique. Sometimes I’m off and I sense it in a vague way, but can’t articulate it.
I have so little attention left over that when I intentionally change something in my training environment, like facing a different way on the platform, or when something changes around me, like a sudden breeze through the garage door, I don’t have the option to acknowledge it then tune it out. It grabs my attention for that split second and I blow the position then miss the lift.
I have no capacity in the second pull.
The answer isn’t to just play through it. I shouldn’t just load up the bar, get all jacked up, pull as hard as I can and hope for the best.
The answer is to drill my technique until I can feel that position.
To drill my technique until I can imagine the position.
To drill my technique until I can play crappy pop music with a dirt storm blowing into my home gym with the bar slightly mis-loaded and my hands sweaty…yet I still execute.
This, of course, means backing the weights off. It means doing classic drills and remediating. It means exhausting myself mentally in pursuit of “ideal technique” even if the physical toll isn’t extreme.
It means deliberate practice, that term again.
But when I own that position, when I could think it all the way through with absolute clarity, ironically, I won’t have to think about it anymore.
That’s when I load up the weight to attempt a new PR and notice a new weakness. Then the cycle begins again. That’s how and when I get to go from being a good weightlifter to a better one.
Because it IS a cycle. Building capacity isn’t a one-and-done endeavor.
I’m way above average as a mountain bike rider.
But I’m not the fastest mountain bike racer.
When I get up to race speed, I get stressed. I miss my brake points, thus blow my entry to corners, thus exit slow and have to pedal hard to get up to speed again. Eventually I gas out.
Does that mean I lack fitness?
Does it mean I lack toughness?
Does it mean I’m not committed enough?
Of course not.
I miss my brake points because the trail is coming at me faster than I can process and I don’t have the confidence to just “feel” it pass.
Then, because I started braking too late, I worry about losing traction and crashing, so I can’t set up my entry.
At that point, I’ve slowed down, killed momentum through the corner, and naturally exit slowly.
Now I’m spending energy pedaling that I could have spent sighting my line to the next corner.
At race pace, fear eats up my attention.
And without enough extra attention to spend on execution, I can’t go any faster.
Folks…”conditioning” is more than physical fitness.
Conditioning is about building capacity.
Drills are about building capacity.
Practice is about building capacity.
Don’t get caught in the trap of “trying harder” or “wanting it” when the real problem is you don’t have the capacity to execute when the pressure is on.
When I start thinking that way on the mountain bike, I either tense up and crash or I get reckless…and crash. When I start thinking that way with the barbell, I either slow my lifting rhythm and miss or I rush…and miss.
I need to “clear my mind” at race speed or under a big lift – but I do that by building up a reservoir of skill under stress.
I “clear my mind” by building capacity.
Every athlete pushing their skills to the limit ultimately has to do the same.