Control What You Can

I want you as the reader to appreciate that goaltending in Ice Hockey is 90% mental.

So as reader, even if you don’t have full respect or knowledge of the sport of ice hockey, there is a valuable lesson here to consider how you could feel very similar, in more of a lifestyle scenario, and you can apply the same tactics.

I started goaltending when I was around 12 years old. It made up most of my athletic experience as a teenager. This was a huge part of my identity.

Being the shorter chubby kid, I wasn’t good at events that require conditioning, but I had this knack for being an explosive goalie and could make big saves for my team at big times. I didn’t play a very high level, but I did well for my high school hockey team.

Fast forward into adulthood, I shifted into being a competitive boxer during my early to mid-20s and outside of just a couple years of playing as a full-time goalie, I mainly played as a filler (substitute) goalie for beer league hockey teams.

This year (now 33) was different, as I got the invite to suit up full time for a team, and I dove at the challenge, because I recently haven’t had much for competitive sport in my life. I thought “This will be so much fun to get back to doing what I was really good at.”

Or so I thought….

Turns out I didn’t have that knack anymore. Go figure, that your skills and instincts may diminish after over 10 years away from being competitive in a sport. Not only was I dealing with horrible old busted up equipment, but I felt like I forgot how to play the sport.

When you’re a goalie, you can feel like the puck you want to stop is either the size of volleyball (easy to stop) or a tiny bullet (not easy to stop).

For many of the games thus far, the puck has shrunk down to me like a pea shooter.

A term for mental performance issues in sport is called “the Yeeps”, or what I prefer is “Quicksand.”

The yeeps is known as a mental battle for athletes, in which they cannot preform to their normal better self, because they overthink their circumstances. Thus, not being their instinctive self.

The Quicksand analogy is beautifully described in the movie The Replacements.

“When you’re playing, and everything feels fine, until one thing goes wrong…then another…and another. And you try to fight back, but the harder you fight, the deeper you sink, until you can’t move, you can’t breathe, because you’re in over your head…Like quicksand.”

I know this feeling allllll too well, especially now.

One puck slides behind me. Then another…and another.

Can you imagine something in your life that makes you feel like this? Makes you feel helpless.

I can tell you this has been the worst athletic experience of my life by far. Even compared to learning to box and getting my ass kicked on occasion. At least then I could throw punches. In hockey as a goalie, I just have to take it as it comes.

Here’s the moment that matters. The puck goes in after another soft one. What do I do?

I could:

-        Get angry

-        Become more frustrated

-        Think about quitting the team

-        Blame others

-        Be sad

-        Stop caring

You should know all these emotions come up. I feel and think every one of these things. But the most fortunate thing about being older is my experience with creating my own self narrative.

Inner narrator: the voice in my head that speaks loudest. What is he saying?

He says, “What went wrong? Okay let’s learn from it. Wait for the next one to do better.”

Despite my feelings of frustration and anger over not being able to feel “good” in my position, I know those emotions cannot serve me now.

I can sum it up in a simple concept.

“I get better with more reps. I have to.”

That “have to” is both based on probability and my attitude towards the problem.

In my life I was rarely, if ever, a natural at anything, but could always learn the behaviour and become more proficient at it. So, I believe when I stand in front of more pucks, I will get the reps and experience I need to improve my instincts. It only makes sense based on probability of improving skills.

However, the attitude is the key lesson. I not only want to get better because I want to be there for my team. I need to get better because I need to overcome my own demons.

This was my narrative from the get-go – “Because this experience sucks so much now, but it will be my greatest mental challenge to overcome to date.”

The most important thing I can control when I can’t control much is my attitude.

This also improves or diminishes the chances of my success. I can control my attitude better than I can my performance.

I have to say that this is something I’m generally proud of. Because I have felt horrible in the net, but I never allow myself to stay there. I force myself into compassion, then into learning from my mistake, and then into what I can control next.

The reason I share this story is because it’s not only real, but it’s real time. I will hopefully write a blog at the end of the hockey season talking about my transformation on the ice.

Even if I don’t transform and become an unstoppable goalie, I promise you my attitude will stay positive.

Because it’s my best shot….

You are guaranteed to have scenarios and experiences in your life when you are down on yourself, hate your circumstances, and feel helpless.

Think about what you can control and start with your attitude. Then take it one step at a time.

My next action was angles. This is a controllable step that has drastically helped my mental and physical performance already.

I still haven’t felt like I’m “me” but I’m inching towards it.

Think about your own mental battle you have right now. What is the inner narrator telling you?

Start with compassion, move into learning, then ask yourself what’s the next controllable step.

In your quicksand moments of life, make sure you control your narrative and attitude towards it.  

Control your attitude, and you can find your way out of the sand.

Take It from Captain Jack Sparrow “Problem is not the problem. It’s your attitude about the problem.”