Playing in the Zone

Where Golf & Tennis Magazines Totally Blow It

We’ve all seen those stop-action pictorial essays in golf or tennis magazines where a series of photos shows a famous athlete in various stages of a swing.

And under each picture is a caption jammed with details describing what is happening with his feet, knees, stride, hands, wrists, hips, eyes, head, grip, posture, weight transfer, torque, and belly-button. In addition, we are regaled with minutiae about racquet or club position, movement, arc, speed, contact, follow-through, and finish.

The whole thing is actually kind of cool. But aside from their aesthetics, what are these pictures really good for?

Absolutely nothing!

Do they help the readers improve their game?

Not even close!

For one thing, there isn’t an athlete alive who, by following those pictures and descriptions, could replicate that swing exactly. And that includes the athlete being pictured!

Trying to control or correct an athletic motion via this “analytical” approach is a fool’s errand. But this is the path nearly every athlete takes to improve.

Here’s why that’s a problem:

The part of the brain that analyzes and “gives orders” is called the prefrontal cortex. Now this is where it gets sticky. When the prefrontal cortex gives orders on what to do during an athletic motion, the flow of muscle memory gets disrupted. In addition, another part of the brain (the cerebellum) starts to shut down. The cerebellum is important because it controls the firing of the fast twitch muscles.

Are you curious to know what happens when muscle memory is disrupted and the fast twitch muscles don’t fire?

The motion becomes muscled … or awkward … or flawed … or rushed … or stiff … or ineffective … or all of the above. That’s what happens.

Let’s take a look at the golf swing. It is, by far, the most dissected and analyzed athletic motion in sports. And there are coaches who know what every part of the body should be doing at every single micro-second of a golf swing. When they see a mechanical flaw, they hop on it like a fumble—you’re lifting your head, you’re looping your back swing, you’re casting your wrists, you’re hitting across the ball. Their analysis is always correct. Fixing that flaw, however, is not so easy.

In my case, I knew I was casting (straightening) my wrists before striking the golf ball. I tried everything to correct it. I took lessons. I watched videos of my swing. I practiced in slow motion. I threw old golf clubs (not in anger but to get the feel of how my wrists should function). I hit thousands of balls on the range until it was too dark to see where my shots were ending up. I studied golf magazines. I visualized the correct motion. I stewed. I obsessed. Despite all that analysis and mental attention, the problem never went away.

As it turns out, swing flaws (mine included) are bi-products of how we think. That’s right! Bi-products … of … how … we … think! Once I learned how to sidestep the thought pattern that was causing my wrists to cast, the flaw disappeared instantaneously! My wrists weren’t the problem; my brain was—at least how my brain was thinking was.

Perhaps you are able to fix a mechanical flaw through good coaching. And you then groove that correct stroke with hours of practice. BUT if a disrupting thought or desire creeps into your brain while you are in the middle of your swing, no amount of practice beforehand will save you. That nasty flaw will immediately re-appear!

So what are those nefarious, disrupting thoughts? The answer will surprise you. They fall into two main categories:

1. Telling yourself anything during your motion: “get racquet back,” “keep head down,” “keep eye on ball,” “hit ball hard,” etc.
2. Desiring a result during your motion: “I really need this putt to drop”; “I hope the ball makes it over the lake”; “please go in the basket,” etc.

What, you say! Those thoughts are completely normal. Every athlete thinks those types of thoughts all the time!

You are exactly right. Every athlete does.

And that’s an enormous problem.

These thoughts are handcuffing athletic potential more than you can imagine. Having those thoughts and desires during a competition is like wearing cement shoes to a 100 meter dash.

But there’s good news. Those same thoughts are easy to sidestep.

And when you do, the transformation is breath-taking. You’ll be flabbergasted at how good you actually are.

Of course, there’s a little “trick” involved but once you get the hang of it, it is money in the bank.

This “trick” was discovered and developed by my good friend Steven Yellin. In fact, I was his first golf guinea pig. I couldn’t believe my eyes how well I hit the ball the first time I followed his instruction. It has since transformed me as a golfer.

But that’s not all. His method has dramatically improved my tennis game as well.

Steven’s program is now being taught to Major League Baseball players, professional golfers, pro tennis players, pro bowlers, and bunches of recreational players like me.

But here’s the coolest part. Steven just sent me an e-mail describing his experience with teaching his method to a super-famous, enormously well-respected swing coach who has instructed many to the world’s top professional golfers. This man currently runs a chain of international golf academies that bears his name. If you golf, you've heard of him.

This guy, needless to say, is heavily invested in the mechanical/analytical approach to the golf swing. But once he followed Steven’s instruction, he experienced a whole new level of freedom and effortlessness. He then watched Steven instruct his son and another young touring pro. The improvement to their swings was immediately obvious. He ended up telling Steven that this was something he had been searching for his entire life—the X-factor that makes everything he’s been teaching work. Now he wants Steven to teach this method to all his teachers all over the world.

Steven’s approach, while unusual, is simple to learn. I describe it in great detail in my book The Mentally Quiet Athlete. If you read it, you’ll learn the same methods being taught to top athletes.

I’m obviously prejudiced but I believe this is something you and every athlete and coach should become intimately familiar with. I guarantee it will open your eyes to a whole new world of possibilities.

This knowledge is definitely a game-changer.

www.MentallyQuiet.com

 

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Your Best is Not Even Close to What Your Best Really Is

Road Map to the Zone

What Athletes Should Know About the Brain

“I just need to get out of my own way and let my natural ability take over.”

How many times have we heard top athletes say that in interviews?

At first blush, it sounds like a profound insight. And after hearing it, I always think, hey that’s advice I could use.

But then confusion sets in when I ask myself the following questions:

1. Exactly what part of me is getting in the way and keeping the rest of me from playing my best?
2. How do I get whatever that thing is “out of the way?”

 

Since no athlete has given me a clue, I asked a well-known neuroscientist to answer these questions in the simplest possible terms.

He started out by explaining that when we practice an athletic skill, the memory of how our muscles perform that skill is stored in the part of the brain known as the basal ganglia.

“For example,” he said, “when it’s time to hit a backhand, the muscle memory of the backhand you practiced flows from your basal ganglia to your body. If this information is able to flow without interference, all your muscles will work together in perfect coordination and you will end up smacking a killer shot. This experience will feel like you let your natural ability take over.”

“But what gets in the way of that experience?” I asked.

“Another part of your brain gets in the way. When that happens we get coordination break downs, mechanical flaws, stiffer play, muscled shots, and weaker execution.” 

“Okay, so what part is the culprit?”

“It’s your prefrontal cortex,” he answered. “It’s located directly behind your forehead and it’s the part of your brain that is doing all your thinking and questioning at this very moment.”

Damn that prefrontal cortex, I thought.

“The prefrontal cortex is the brain’s Chief Executive Officer,” he explained. “And because it’s the boss, it has the power to override other parts of the brain which it does during times of stress.  Of course, this is particularly valuable when a person is in physical danger. But this same bossy attribute can have a terrible effect on athletic performance when the pressure’s on.”

“But how does the prefrontal cortex get in the way?” I asked.

“Instead of just letting the stroke flow freely, it gets nervous and tries to modify the stroke while you’re in the middle of it,” he said.

“Can you give me a specific?”

“For instance, it could tell the body to swing harder. Or softer. Or it could start hoping for a specific outcome like wanting to sink a foul shot or throw a strike or hit the golf ball over the pond. These types of thoughts disrupt the flow of muscle memory.”

“But these are thoughts every athlete thinks all the time!” I exclaimed.

“They are. And each one interferes with the flow of muscle memory to some degree.”

“Wow,” I said. “It’s hard to believe that these little thoughts keep me from playing my best.”

“But it’s true. And to make matters worse, the prefrontal cortex tends to get more engaged as competitive pressure grows which further sabotages performance. Basically, if you want to play your best, you need to find a way to keep your prefrontal cortex quiet.”

“But that’s the billion dollar question,” I said. “How do I get my prefrontal cortex out of the way, short of a lobotomy?”

The neuroscientist shrugged.  

Mercifully, I wasn’t left in the dark for long. The perfect answer came from my friend Steven Yellin who I believe has ingeniously solved The Case of the Interfering Prefrontal Cortex.

Steven discovered a simple solution that elegantly accomplishes two important things in one stroke:

1. His solution keeps the prefrontal cortex quiet even under the most demanding, pressure-packed situations, and;
2. His solution creates the ideal mental environment for muscle memory to flow like greased lightning.

In other words, Steven Yellin has not only found the answer to “getting out of our own way,” he has found the key which unlocks the Zone. This may well be the single most important discovery in sports.  

I know the impact he had on my game was transformative. It totally blew my mind when he taught it to me.

The first time I applied his method to my golf swing, I instantly had more freedom, power, accuracy, and distance. Elation doesn’t begin to describe how I felt.

And when I applied his methods to tennis, everything immediately improved—my footwork, my timing, my technique, the whole enchilada. I played more efficiently, more powerfully, and more consistently. I stayed energized throughout and I had a ton more fun.

But I’m not the only one who Steven has helped. Steven is getting amazing results from recreational players to top professionals in Major League Baseball, tennis, golf, bowling, soccer, and basketball. In fact, Steven’s star is clearly on the rise. He’s been invited to teach Major League Baseball teams and also to speak at national conferences for the PGA and Women’s Tennis Association.

I’ve spent a lot of time with Steven. We’ve had incredible discussions. My friendship with him can be characterized as one eye-opening revelation after another. And I’m proud to say, I was his first guinea pig to test out his breakthrough method for the golf swing.

Over the years, if there is one thing I’ve done right, it was to jot down all of Steven’s amazing insights and turn them into a book titled The Mentally Quiet Athlete. In it, I show how easy it is to play with a quiet mind and let your natural ability shine on the field of play. I think it is cutting edge stuff.

But, please, don’t lump this book in with all the other books promoting mental techniques for sports. It is significantly different. And if you read this book carefully, you will find it to be a quantum leap above all the rest.

So go to www.MentallyQuiet.com. Read the sample pages. And decide for yourself if it’s your cup of tea. Personally I believe it to be a powerful, game-changing brew.

 

P.S. This is from a satisfied customer: 

"These guys have discovered something in sports that is going to have a huge impact wherever it is taught."

George Brett
Baseball Hall of Fame

The Failure of Sports Psychology

Why Sports Psychology doesn’t help under-achievers & how to fix it

In every sport, there are athletes with breathtaking skills.

Yet, most of these guys never play anywhere close to their potential. 

So how come one guy becomes a superstar while another guy—with just as much talent—bombs?

As Yogi Berra, the ground-breaking mathematician, once said, “Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical.”

Of course, that’s not news. Everyone knows the importance of the mental side of sports. Everyone knows that the mind is the cause of duffs, yips, chokes, shanks, bricks, air balls, duck hooks, chunks, banana balls, scratches, hanging curves, slumps, and whiffs.

And every athlete knows (or should know) that the reason he’s not playing as well as he could can be traced to the three pounds of grey matter between his ears.

The problem isn’t trivial. Under-performing athletes are such a huge demographic that it spawned an entire field of study.

Enter Sports Psychology.

Sports Psychology has since become über-respectable. Universities offer Master’s degrees and Doctorates in it. There are professional associations. Many sports psychologists have championship credentials, “best-selling” books, impressive client lists peppered with Fortune 500 companies, and a garage full of motivational videos in which they star.

With their good intentions blazing, sports psychologists attack the problem of athletic under-performance with a vengeance using a witches’ brew of so-called “performance enhancement techniques.”

And a witches’ brew it is—with no apparent consensus on what actually works.

Some guys preach visualization. Others swear by mindfulness. Still others tout mental toughness. There are those who expound the virtues of either positive attitude or courage or confidence or goal setting. I should also mention those who claim non-judgment as the exalted path. And of course, how could I leave out the advocates for hypnosis, self-hypnosis, or any number of “relaxation techniques?” My apologies to anyone or anything I left out.  

Now, between you and me, you’d think that one of these techniques would have actually “enhanced performance” by now and produced a swarm of sweet-swinging success stories.

Clearly, that’s not been the case.

Even though every single major sports franchise has one of the biggest names in sport psychology on its payroll, every single team, bar none, still has its roster chocked full of gifted athletes who under-achieve.

Something is obviously amiss.

Either the players aren’t listening or the methods promoted by sports psychologists aren’t worth a damn.  

I vote for the latter.

To understand where Sports Psychology drops the ball and why these various techniques fail, all we have to do is look at how the human brain functions with respect to motion—something Sports Psychology apparently never did.  

So, let’s fix this oversight.

Since the brain operates the same way for every athlete no matter what the sport, we only need to consider two things:

1. How the brain produces a fluid motion (a golf swing, tennis stroke, curve ball, etc.)
2. How the brain disrupts fluid motion

Let’s start with #1.

When we were babies learning to walk, the process that resulted in our first wobbly steps was stored by the brain so that it could be repeated and improved upon.

[For those who want specifics, it was stored in the part of the brain known as the basal ganglia. (Don’t worry; that fact won’t be on the final exam.)]

On the other hand, the process that resulted in failures was not stored. I guess the brain didn’t think it was useful to master the technique of falling on our keister.

As more success got stored, our walking got more refined. Now, the stored information on how to walk flows without restriction to our bodies and we walk without having to think about how to move our legs or feet.

This is how the brain learns how to perform any physical motion. It’s been called “motor memory” or “muscle memory.” The muscles don’t actually do the remembering; the basal ganglia in the brain does.

So, just like learning to walk, when we try to groove a golf swing or a tennis stroke, the brain stores the information on how we did the successful strokes and ignores the failures.

The more times we repeat the skill successfully during practice, the more refined and ingrained our muscle memory becomes.  So when a competitive situation calls for a crisp backhand, the basal ganglia already has that well-practiced backhand on file and is ready, willing, and able to deliver that information to the body.

In a perfect world, our body would instantaneously receive this muscle memory from the basal ganglia and execute a stinging backhand down the line, thereby catching our opponent flatfooted.

When muscle memory flows freely to the body, we get fluid motion. And that’s what happens in a perfect world.

Alas, the world isn’t always so perfect.

It turns out there’s another part of our brain that we must account for. It’s the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for thinking, planning, analyzing, evaluating, and decision-making.

[Now, just so there’s no mistake, let me say from the outset that the prefrontal cortex is a wonderful thing. It’s actually the brain’s CEO (chief executive officer). And far be it from me to disrespect Da Boss.]

However, the prefrontal cortex has this nasty habit of intercepting the flow of muscle memory to the body whenever it feels the need to exert some additional control over a motion.

For example, the prefrontal cortex could want that the ball to be hit extra hard. Or, it could get nervous and insert some caution or some sense of urgency about getting the ball over the net, or in the basket, or over the plate, or on the green. There can be innumerable ways the prefrontal cortex tries to influence a motion.

Even though this type of thinking may seem completely natural during an athletic contest (it may even seem to be a good “game plan”), it turns out to be the kiss of death if our ultimate desire is to hit, shoot, or pitch the ball like we grooved in practice.

Let me explain why.

When the prefrontal cortex tries to control muscle memory even just a tiny bit (which it almost always does), another part of the brain (the cerebellum) which governs the fast twitch muscles gets overshadowed. When that happens, the fast twitch muscles (the ones that give finesse, touch, and speed to an athletic motion) aren’t able to fire on time. As a result, the bulkier, core muscles end up dominating.

What then are we left with?

A shot/stroke/pitch/swing/routine/dive/kick that is forced . . . muscled . . . awkward . . . rushed . . . out-of-sync . . . or flawed.

Now guess what causes the prefrontal cortex to get involved in an athletic motion in the first place.

You probably guessed right! The prefrontal cortex gets involved when it is under stress or feels pressure. It also interferes with a motion when it just plain “thinks” about what is needed.  

This is the real reason why a motion breaks down. It’s the real reason why an athlete doesn’t perform up to his ability in competition. It’s how athletic performance loses fluidity, power, and effectiveness. This is what keeps an athlete out of the Zone!

When muscle memory is not allowed to flow freely to the body, the body is unable to perform the motion as well as it could.

Needless to say, we’ve all experienced this. When feeling pressure or when our minds are filled with racing thoughts, our performance becomes stiffer, more flawed, and more conservative.

The implications of this explanation are enormous.

For one, this analysis calls into question the various methods used by sports psychologists. None of them do anything to prevent the prefrontal cortex from sneaking in and sabotaging muscle memory.  In fact, many of them actually encourage the prefrontal cortex to get more involved. And that just makes matters worse.

But Sports Psychology’s failure is small potatoes compared to a more devastating way the prefrontal cortex can disrupt performance.

And that’s when an athlete looks at his motion in terms of any of its parts.

Every athlete should know that the perfect, well-practiced motion already exists in its completeness in his basal ganglia and that any flaw which shows up is caused by one thing and one thing only—interference by the prefrontal cortex. Nothing else!

So trying to adjust the release point of the hand or the rotation of the hips or the follow-through, especially in competition, is equivalent to shooting yourself in the foot.

The key to athletic success is a quiet prefrontal cortex. And while that may sound complicated, it’s not. We’ve all had the experience when our prefrontal cortex did not meddle in a stroke. At those times it felt like the perfect stroke happened all by itself, without our even thinking about it.

Bingo!

And athletes who have had this experience over a longer stretch of time than only one stroke refer to it as “being in the Zone.”  Interestingly, their descriptions are practically identical: “I wasn’t thinking.” “Everything was effortless.” “I was playing better than I ever played.”  “The experience was more wonderful than winning.”

Jackpot!

Of course, the most successful athletes intuitively understand the need for a quiet prefrontal cortex. They just use simpler words and talk about their need “to get out of their own way” and “to let their natural instincts can take over.” 

Unfortunately, those words are easy to say, but very few athletes have a clue how to actually accomplish it on a consistent basis.

This is where my good friend Steven Yellin comes to the rescue.

Steven developed an elegant, easy-to-learn, easy-to-do system which quiets the prefrontal cortex and lets the body access muscle memory on demand.

(And mercifully, you don’t need to know your prefrontal cortex from a bar of soap to be successful at this.)

As a result, the strokes we practiced so diligently can now flow freely and fluidly, even in the white heat of competition.

But here’s the mind-blowing part.

When we perform with a quiet prefrontal cortex, we’re immediately struck by what an enormous difference it makes. We realize we’re actually a lot better than we originally thought possible.

Over the years I’ve had long talks with Steven, played tennis and golf with him, and watched him teach others. I’ve marveled at the unprecedented successes of those who learned—including a Major League pitcher who recently tossed a perfect game, a professional bowler who has won tournaments by bowling 300 in the final match, high school kids who have won state tennis championships, and golfers excelling on the pro tour.

His approach has literally salvaged careers of professional ball players who were considered busts and on their way out of Major League Baseball. The stories are epic.

In my opinion, this knowledge is something every athlete should know. So with Steven’s help, I put his lessons in a book titled Instant Athlete, Instant Zone. But instead of presenting the instruction in a dry textbook format, I wove the whole thing into an engaging story about a sports nut who encounters a wise old coach who reveals to him the secrets and methods of this profound approach to sports.  You’ll have a lot of fun reading . . . and learning.

You’ll have even more fun applying it to your sport. I promise you’ll be amazed at how much your mind had shackled your performance in the past.

So, if you want to take your game to a new level, you owe it to yourself to check it out. I’m absolutely certain you will find it to be an eye-opening, heart-warming, and cortex-quieting book.

I especially recommend it to those who have come to realize that Sports Psychology does not have the answers.

To find out more, please go to www.InstantAthlete.com. 

 

Faster Reaction Time

The following bit got cut from the final version of my book, Instant Athlete Instant Zone. But I think it contains a valuable insight as the difference between winning and losing can sometimes be separated by only a one-hundredth of a second.

Here goes:

“What I learned today reminds me of an experiment we did in my college psychology class,” I said. “It was a standard reaction-time test. A light would go on and you had to move your hand about 12 inches and hit a button to turn the light off. There was stop watch connected to the circuit which measured how long the light stayed on.”

“I’m familiar with that test,” commented the Old Coach. 

“The competitive male athletes insisted on going first,” I continued. “Each jock adopted a macho approach. They’d be on high alert—their arms like coiled springs, ready to pounce the instant they saw the light go on. And then they would slam the button. It was hugely competitive. Lots of trash talk. Once all the athletes were tested, the fastest guy pranced around with his fists thrust in the air like he’d just won the heavyweight boxing crown.”

The Old Coach chuckled at the description.

“Then it was time for everyone else in the class to take a turn,” I said. “The first girl to be tested was quite delicate. She was not athletic at all. In fact, she looked like she couldn’t knock the skin off a rice pudding. Anyway, she approached this experiment in a most disinterested way. She had no intense focus on the light bulb and no coiled readiness in her arm. Just the opposite. Her arm was completely limp and her gaze was neutral.”

The Old Coach smiled.

“What happened next blew everyone’s mind. As soon as the light went on, her hand flicked out there like a frog’s tongue snatching a mosquito from mid-air. When her time was announced, the next sound heard was a collective gasp. She, using a relaxed approach, had easily defeated all the macho athletes who had used the coiled spring approach.”

The Old Coach was nodding knowingly.

“I observed something else with the contrasting approaches,” I added. “A turn consisted of each person turning off the light about 50 times in a row. I noticed that those using the coiled spring approach got slower as their turns progressed. It seemed like their arms and minds had gotten tired from being on high alert. But the reaction times from the delicate girl remained consistently fast.”

“I would have predicted as much,” commented the Old Coach.

“I became so curious that after class I experimented using both methods,” I said. “When I started from the platform of relaxation, I was amazed at how much faster I was than with the macho approach.”

www.InstantAthlete.com