Mental Fitness

I posted an email earlier from a reader who was asking about how to deal with fear of sailing. When the wind is howling and you think that you won’t be able to handle the conditions, that you might even break something or hurt yourself, what do you do?

I don’t propose to be an expert on this matter. No, take that back. I’m very much an expert on that feeling of being scared to go sailing. What I mean is that I’m not an expert on sports psychology or motivating athletes on how to overcome their fears. But I can pass on a few tips that have worked for me at times…

1. Logic
If you’re a left-brain type then maybe a logical argument will persuade you to go out and sail in 30 knots.

What’s the worst that is likely to happen?

Sure you might capsize but that’s no big deal.

Perhaps something might break on your boat, but you can always mend it.

Will you hurt yourself? Probably not.

I’ve been sailing a Laser for over 25 years and have been out in all kinds of conditions. I broke a mast top-section once and still managed to sail two miles back to the sailing club with the rig bent in half. I’ve ripped out various fittings and broken a boom but still managed to survive to tell the day. I’ve had a few bruises and grazes at times for sure, but the worst injury I ever had was the time the boom cut my head open during a gybe. There was a lot of blood for a while but it didn’t require a hospital visit. And that’s it.

Realistically the probability of any kind of serious injury while dinghy sailing is very small. So stop thinking about what might go wrong. Go sailing and enjoy the wind and waves.

2. Peer pressure
If you’re sailing with other people then there will probably be other folk who want to go out and sail in the conditions that are scaring you. Surely you’re not going to let them have all the fun are you? You’ll feel like a total wuss if you’re standing on the shore while others are out sailing.

This worked for me on the day I wrote about in Small Craft Advisory.

As we arrive at the regatta site we see the bay covered in white caps. There are a few other Laser sailors in the parking lot looking uncertain. Some have taken Lasers off roof racks and trailers. Some are waiting. Another sailor arrives and announces that he thinks there is a 20% chance we will race. We check out the launch situation: two narrow ramps with a pier between them, rocks on one side, facing almost straight into the wind and with waves crashing on the ramps. We all have mental images that it’s going to be something like this video. Going out will be tough. Coming back in will be worse.

Another sailor arrives and proclaims in more positive tones that even if we don’t race we will sail. He knows more sheltered areas to launch from. Sounds good. We can still go out and have a blast around even if the RC think it’s too windy to race.

A positive enthusiastic role model who is determined to sail can have a powerful influence on the timid, uncertain types like me.

3. Call on past positive experiences
Psych yourself up by recalling times that you have sailed before in heavy weather.

For example I can always puff out my chest and and remind myself, “I survived the 2007 Caribbean Midwinters.”

4. Bite smaller chunks
OK, maybe you won’t be able to handle the conditions. Maybe you will capsize a lot and get tired and have to come in early. So what? If you don’t go out and try to sail in these conditions you never will learn to master them.

So make a small commitment. “I’ll just sail one race and then see how I feel.” Or, “I’ll keep sailing until I’ve capsized five times and then I’ll call it a day.”

Sometimes when you do this you will find that you don’t capsize as much as you thought you would, or you will do one race and feel confident to try another. And sometimes you won’t. But hey, at least you gave it a shot.

5. Brag
OK, so you are all standing there, staring at the waves crashing on the beach, and wondering who will be the first to admit he doesn’t want to sail. None of my first four tips are working for you. So now is the time for desperate measures…

Lie.

Take the initiative. Tell the group how psyched up you are about sailing in heavy air. Here are some lines you could use…

“Come on guys, it’s only 25 knots between the gusts.”

“Wow. 30 knots! I’ve been waiting for weeks for an opportunity to practice in this.”

“Yeah baby. 35 knots! It’s a day for the fat boys. I’m going to blow you all away.”

Yes, I know it’s all lies, but after a few minutes of such bullshit you will actually start to believe it yourself. And then the others will respond to you as in point #2 above. Problem solved.

6. Music
Now we’re really getting into the New Age, touchie-feelie, right brain stuff. But music does have the capability to inspire, motivate, calm, soothe, relax… whatever mood change you need.

Surely I am not the only sailor who has composed a mix tape (and it really was a tape back in the early 80’s) of songs that he enjoyed to listen to while driving to a sailing event? On that tape there were a few songs that particularly had the ability to put me in the right frame of mind to tackle heavy air, to tough it out with the competition, to keep going when I was becoming tired… and so on. Listening to the music before sailing helped calm any fears and motivate me to have a go. And if things got gnarly out on the race course I would recall the most appropriate tune to keep me going.

Which brings me to the last piece of advice…

7. Sing
If all else fails, sing. Yes, I know this idea is even crazier than #5 and #6. But if you’re out there in the midst of huge crashing waves the size of houses and winds that are blowing koalas off trees, singing at the top of your voice does take your mind off the stuff that’s scaring you. It’s worth a try. I’m sure the psychologists have some fancy term for this way of using a distraction to occupy your mind and overcome your fears.

And, if nothing else, the sight of you singing at the top of your voice will totally discombobulate your competition.

What song to sing?

I have found that Wheels on the Bus works quite well.

OK. That’s seven ideas from me. What can you suggest?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

I received an interesting email a few weeks back suggesting that I write a post on the issue of fear of sailing. Here’s what my correspondent had to say…

For what it’s worth, sailing sometimes scares the hell out of me.
High winds, hard unstable craft, soft body, and a high propensity to land upside down in an environment for which evolution has yet to prepare me adequately.

We’ve all read the blogs ” What a pussy, didn’t put the spinnaker up in 35 Knots of wind “.
We all want to be on that perfect reach. Slicing through the water. Spray and hoots of joy or maniacal laughter, in the air.

But how do we get out there when the sky is slate gray, the wind howling and the water colder than an Scandinavian Fjord at Christmas?
How do we avoid going from full rig to radial to standing at the waters edge wishing for our slippers and an open fire?

The psychology of sailing is vital to our performance. For a start, we have to have the courage to be on the water to compete in the first place. But then there are the other aspects. From, should I tack round a mark of gybe? If I gybe without full confidence what will be the result? To, can I really ask the club champ for water when it was only by a fluky 180 degree wind shift that allowed me to see him close for the first time ever.

The f # # # word is often heard on the water but rarely talked about in the club.
So what techniques do you and the people who read this blog use to overcome what is perhaps one of the most fundamental aspects of sailing, for me anyway?

I’ll jot down some of my own ideas on the topic in another post, but how would you respond to this question?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

How do you keep a resolution, a commitment to yourself? Something that you want to do like lose weight or exercise more but you know that the gluttony and sloth may get the better of you. Do you have any tricks to force yourself to keep the commitment?

According to Stephen Dubner and Steven Levitt at Freakonomics, economists call a trick like this a commitment device — a means with which to lock yourself into a course of action that you might not otherwise choose but that produces a desired result.

They give the example of a Los Angeles businesswoman who tries to watch her weight. So she bought two lifelike plastic models of human body fat from a medical-supply company, a one-pound blob and a five-pound blob, and put them on display in her kitchen.

Yuk. Be grateful I didn’t post a picture of this lady’s fat blobs!

Another suggestion from Levitt for those who want to lose weight is to write a check for a substantial amount of money to the American Nazi Party, seal it up in a stamped envelope, and vow to drop it in the mail if you break your diet.

Wow. That’s pretty serious too.

If you don’t want to go to the extremes of writing a check to an organization whose goals you abhor, then you could go to StickK.com and sign a contract with them to give a certain amount to some wholesome charity if you fail to meet your commitment to yourself.

Hmmm. So what device am I going to use to make myself stick to the commitment to sail my Laser 100 days this year come hell or high water? Well, basically by telling the world (a.k.a. as the three regular readers of this blog) about it I am exposing myself to huge personal embarrassment and humiliation if I fail.

To make sure you can keep track of whether I am backsliding I am posting the number of days sailed year-to-date in the sidebar over there >>>>>>>

And I have created a post 100 Days at Sea which will be a list of links to posts about each of the 100 days of Lasering (so I don’t lose count).

So what about you? Do you have any neat tricks to force yourself to keep commitments like this?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

I was asking a few days ago what what kind of remarks would be successful in disrupting the concentration or focus of a competitor in a sailboat race. This weekend I discovered the answer: almost anything.

Saturday on Buzzards Bay. I beat Litoralis by half a dozen places in the 3-leg windward-leeward-windward first race and life is good. In the second race perhaps I am fading a bit and he, having the advantage of me in age by a few decades and in weight by at least as many pounds, arrives at the first windward mark a few places in front of me.

So I start working the waves downwind like some 17-year-old Radial sailor possessed by demons. Doing my best Ben Ainslie impression, carving turns up and down, pumping on every wave. I’m catching him up and life is still good.

As I surf past him I think of what I should say to him. Don’t want to be a smart ass. Needs to be something that sounds positive and encouraging in a fatherly way but there’s no harm if it also gives me a little mental edge too. Ha. I’ve got it.

“You know this is a five leg race, right?” Just passing on information that the race committee changed the course board between races. He might have missed it. Just being a good Dad.

“You know this is a five leg race, right?” Ah, but what if he thought it was still the shorter course we sailed in race one? Maybe he hung it all out on the first beat in an attempt to beat poor old Dad? Maybe he thinks there is only one more beat after this downwind leg? What’s it going to do to his head if he finds out that he actually has two more beats and one more run to do? Might be demoralizing perhaps? Could make him concede the lead in our personal tussle? Maybe.

So I say it. “You know this is a five leg race, right?”

His reply sounds something like, “What? WHAT? Wooooaaaaa! Aaaaaarrrghhh! SPLASH! Splutter, splutter, splutter,” as he death-rolls his Laser and I carry on down the run a-pumping and a-rocking and a-rolling.

I love it when a plan comes together.

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

Talking of mind games, one step further (perhaps one step too far) in the mental game of outwitting your opponents is the trick play. By this I mean a move that for a while tricks the opposition into thinking that something is happening which is totally different from what is really happening.

Take for example the “wrong ball play” as shown in this video.

Deceptive? Yes.

Successful? Yes

Unsportsmanlike? Maybe.

My question for you today, is whether some deceptive move along these lines is even possible in sailboat racing. The nearest I can think of is the fake tack when another boat is covering you. But a move in which the opposition essentially stops playing because they think the game is suspended or over, freeing you to make a huge gain against them? It’s hard to imagine. My general recall fiasco (shouting, “General Recall!” just after the start when the RC hasn’t signalled one) may be similar, but that was a mistake, not a deliberately deceptive play. Although it could be done with malicious intent. Hmmm. Should I?

And my other question is: If someone in sailing pulled a move as audacious as “wrong ball coach” would they be successfully protested under Rule 2… A boat shall compete in compliance with recognized principle of sportsmanship and fair play?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

Psych-out: the act of undermining someone’s confidence by psychological means.

In a comment on yesterday’s post Stephen pointed out that one reason another sailor might be complimenting me on my sailing was that he was trying to un-nerve or upset me in order to put me off my game. Hmmm. I guess that could be true, but I don’t think so in this case. Laser sailors are way too genteel and respectful to play games like that. Yeah, right.

But it does raise the question of what kind of remarks would be successful in disrupting the concentration or focus of a competitor, or disturbing their natural free-flowing excellent performance. I remember one incident this year where one of the guys close to me in the fleet shouted something to me on the start line about 30 seconds before the start. I didn’t even hear what he said so I naturally asked him to repeat it (I know… stupid move) by which time I’d lost my concentration on the start sequence and totally blew the start.

And as Stephen points out, getting a fellow competitor to think too hard about something he or she is doing well naturally is almost guaranteed to succeed in disrupting their game.

So please tell me. Do you have any choice remarks that are successful in psyching out your competition? Or have you been the victim of psychological mind games like this yourself?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

Oh no! Not that guy again. I’m getting soooo tired of seeing his transom…

There’s this guy. About my age. Good Laser sailor. I’ve known him for years and after we moved to this area he was one of the first to welcome me to the local fleet.

We’ve raced in a few regattas together this season. And every single time he finishes in front of me. Not by much. A place or three. A few points maybe. And it’s driving me crazy.

My main motivation for trying harder and for racing better is to beat this guy. I’m consumed by it. I measure my performance against him. If I beat him I think I’ve had a good race. As the season progresses and my regatta finishes creep closer to his I think I’m improving.

The logical side of my brain tells me it’s crazy to measure myself against one other sailor. He might have a bad day. On any given day he might be unwell, or worrying about his work, or have an equipment breakdown. But if I beat him I will be all puffed up with pride and think I have become a better sailor.

Logically I should measure my performance against the whole fleet. I should be setting myself targets to be in the top 30%, the top 10% of the fleet. Not to beat just one guy.

But the emotional irrational side of me can’t help it. I have to beat this guy. What’s he doing differently from me? Does he have better equipment? Does he rig his boat differently? Does he hike harder? How does he trim his sail downwind? Desperately I have to find out how he’s beating me every weekend and I have to, I just have to find a way to get past him.

Am I crazy? Or are you like me? Is there one boat that is always just ahead of you in the races? Are you focused on beating it? Or do you see the bigger picture?

Another regatta this weekend. He’ll be there. That guy. I know he will. This weekend I’m going to beat him. Just watch me.

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

Long-time readers of this blog may remember that I used to describe myself in my profile as a Laser sailor and a marathon runner. That may have been a bit disingenuous. I’ve never really made a commitment to marathon running as a lifetime pursuit, a part of my identity, in quite the same way as I have with Laser sailing. But I did run three marathons (one each in 2005, 6 and 7), I did complete a defined training program over approx. six months for each event, I did travel to the UK to run the London Marathon in 2007, I did finish all three marathons… and I did learn a couple of things along the way.

I haven’t met many other Laser sailors who run marathons. Probably the demands of training at a high level for a marathon and for a major Laser championship are mutually incompatible. There may be another reason. One of the things I learned while training for marathons does have some relevance to sailing, I think; but another thing I learned while running marathons could actually be harming my performance as a racing sailor.

Learning #1: Performance improvement comes slowly and with regular practice. My marathon training program basically involved running four times a week for six months. The duration and intensity of the training increased over the six months and then tapered off in the last couple of weeks. It’s amazing what you can train a human body to do with a program like that. At the start I could barely run 3 or 4 miles but by completing the training I managed to develop my body (and my mind) to the point where I could run 26 miles or more several times in training, and was able to complete that distance on race day too.

I suspect sailing skills are very similar. You can’t just listen to a coach, read a book, watch a video… and then go out and execute a new skill perfectly. You can’t expect to be able to jump into a boat that demands some athletic ability and race all day with full effort if you haven’t prepared physically for it. My guess is that it actually takes constant training several times a week over many years to reach a high level of racing skills in a physically demanding boat. That’s why high school and college sailors become so good. They’re training almost every afternoon and racing every weekend for the whole season.

It will be interesting to see what my program of 100 days of Laser sailing in one year accomplishes. If the intensity and length of my marathon program have any relevance to sailing I should be shooting for something more like 100 days in 6 months. Maybe next year?

Learning #2: Start slow and finish strong. The most important thing about running a marathon (at least for an aging unfit amateur like me) is not to start too fast. Every book, every website tells you the same thing. Hold back your pace in the first few miles. Save your energy. The last 6 miles are the hardest part of the race and if you start too fast you will “hit the wall” at around the 20-mile mark and the last 6 miles will be agonizing.

After hearing this, reading this, trying (and sometimes failing) to put this into practice, I’ve learned that it is true the hard way. When facing a long run there’s something deep in my brain now that whispers to me, “Go slow. Pace yourself. It’s going to be a long day. Save something for the last few miles. Hold back. Take it easy.”

Now the length of time it takes me to run a marathon is roughly the same time I will spend on the water on a regatta day. Five hours give or take an hour or so either way. So when sailing out for the first race of a day of Laser racing that little voice is still there whispering its seductive message, “Take it easy. It’s going to be a long day. Pace yourself. Don’t go all out at the start.”

Say what? This is of course exactly the wrong mental preparation for a sailboat race. The most critical parts of any race are the start and the first few minutes after the start. These are the minutes that will determine whether I will be racing with the pack of leaders or trying to avoid being the tail-end charlie. The start is when I need to be at the peak of my mental arousal and the first few minutes after the start are when I need to be working at 110% capacity, hiking as hard as I can, striving desperately to hold my lane and to work out ahead of the boats around me.

I know all that with the conscious, thinking part of my sailing brain. But my marathon running has trained something deep in my head to whisper those dangerous “go slow” messages at the start of every day and the start of every race.

You don’t believe me? Hey, you have to admit it’s a creative excuse for my normally dismal performance at Laser regattas. “Yeah, I didn’t have a great regatta but that’s because I’m really a marathon runner.”

So what do you think? Have you had experience of cross-training in one sport that may have actually hurt your performance in your primary sport? Or, if nothing else, does one sport give you a great excuse for doing badly in another?

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I wrote this post for my own Learning Experiences group writing project and also for the challenge from Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings, What I Learned From… Mashing It Up! The point about Robert’s challenge was to write a WILF story addressing two or more topics from a list he provided. Well this post is definitely about Recreation, running a marathon is a bit like climbing a Mountain, and both the learnings are all about Time and how to use it.

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

Some random thoughts about this whole process of goals in sailing…

Why do we have them? How to state them? What good are they?

Last year I had a goal to “finish in the top half of my fleet at the Laser Masters World Championships.” Very specific. Very measurable. But not much good by itself. What am I supposed to do with a goal like that? It talks about an outcome that I can’t control. It all depends on how good the other sailors at the regatta are, and whether the weather and wave conditions suit me or not… all variables outside my control. If it inspired me to take some other actions like fix some faults in my technique, improve my racing skills through competing at more events locally, practice more, achieve the best target body weight, improve my fitness etc. etc. then it would be of some value. But by itself it is worthless.

As it was, I achieved that objective at the 2007 Worlds in Spain in October but failed at the 2008 Worlds in Australia in February. So what does that prove? I dunno.

This year my primary sailing goal is to do 100 days of Lasering between Jan 1 and Dec 31. Something that’s very much in my control. Every day when I get up I can choose whether to go sailing or not. If I don’t make it to 100 I have only myself to blame.

Of course the hidden agenda is that I am hoping that my sailing skills and my racing performance will improve if I spend significantly spend more days on the water in my Laser than I ever have in my life before. Still that Type-A personality who always wants to do better. Still hoping for some positive impact on the outcome of the races I enter.

But how I choose to achieve the 100 days is completely open. Maybe I will spend a whole day out on the bay. Or maybe I will just fit in an hour or so of practice one evening. Maybe I will travel to sailing resorts, or go to regattas abroad, or sign up for a couple of clinics. Or race lots of local regattas. Or go frostbiting. Maybe I will sail with some friends or just go out for an afternoon and practice on my own. Or all of the above. Actually “all of the above” is exactly what I am doing.

It’s a bit of an experiment. If I sail a Laser 100 days in 2008 will I achieve better results in races in 2009? I don’t know. We will see.

So how is it going?

At the beginning of the year I had a rough plan that I would sail 40 days in the six colder months of the year Jan/Feb/Mar and Oct/Nov/Dec and 60 days in the warmer six middle months. That would require six or seven days a month in the colder months and ten days a month in the warmer months. Seemed doable.

I figured I would get a running start on the year by going to Cabarete in the Dominican Republic for a clinic and a regatta in January, to Australia for the Masters Worlds in February, and to Florida for a clinic in March. But somehow since then things have slipped a bit. I hoped to be at 40 days by the end of May but I only made it to 33.

So what to do? Adjust of course. I will need to sail more days a month than I had planned in June, July, August and September in order to catch up. That’s one of the values of a goal, so you can make adjustments along the way if you’re not on track to achieve your goal. I just have to sail more days this summer. It’s a hard life but somebody’s got to do it.

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back

How important is it to be aggressive if you want to be a successful racing sailor?

A sailing magazine that I picked up in Australia started me thinking about this whole question of the role of aggression and boldness in racing. There was an article in the mag about Ben Ainslie, surely one of the accomplished sailboat racers of his generation… and likely by the time he has finished (he’s only 31) to rank as one of the greatest racers of all time.

The essence of the article was that Ben is so good because he is not afraid to be aggressive in tight situations. If the pin end of the start line is favored he will fight to win the pin. If approaching the windward mark close to the port tack layline he will not hesitate to tack under and close to starboard tackers to squeeze between them and the buoy. If the left side of the run is favored he will immediately gybe on to port after rounding the windward mark even in heavy traffic.

Hmmm. I don’t do those things. In fact most of the books I have read about sailing preach the exact opposite. Be conservative. Don’t take big risks for small gains. Play the odds. If you like the left end of the start line, avoid the crowd at the pin and find a gap a bit further up the line. Don’t jam your bow into a potential pile-up at the windward mark; instead duck a couple of starboard tackers and round in clear air above the mayhem of boats trying to luff around the buoy. Stay out of trouble. Sail clean.

I started wondering. What came first the chicken or the egg? Is Ben great because he goes for these risky, bold, aggressive moves? Or is he only able to pull off these moves because he has nerves of steel, superb boat-handling, razor-sharp reflexes, an uncanny ability to foresee developing multi-boat interactions… etc. etc.

More to the point, if an averagely talented mid-fleet sailor suddenly started to sail like Ben would their race results improve? Or would they be spending every evening of every regatta in the protest room? Speaking for myself, I suspect that if I changed my style tomorrow to always go for these daring maneuvers… win the pin in a tough fleet, approach a crowded windward mark on port tack and tack inside all the starboard tack boats… nine times out of ten I would screw up and end up doing 720’s.

On the other hand, the top sailors do have the ability to succeed in these aggressive tactics. So how do the rest of us become more like them? Do we just do it? Start going for it every time, recognizing that we will make lots of mistakes (and maybe lots of enemies) at first, but over time we will develop the skills to be more successful? Or do we ease into it slowly by being bold when racing in small fleets in which we feel our abilities are as good or better than the opposition; and continue to sail a conservative game when playing against the big boys?

Just as an experiment I’ve been practicing the aggressive approach recently in SAILX (the tactical simulator formerly known as Tacticat). I’m not sure how true a simulation of real life it is in this respect but I’m coming to believe that trying to win the pin or tacking into the inside of a pack of starboard boats at the windward mark are not as high risk moves as I once thought. Even if you end up doing a 360 I figure you usually come out ahead of where you would have been by playing a more conservative game. (Did someone say Rule 31.2? Ah yes indeed. “If a boat has gained a significant advantage in the race or series by touching the mark she shall retire”.)

So what do you think? How do you weigh up when to be daring and when to play it safe? How can a mid-fleet sailor develop a more aggressive style? What comes first… the mental attitude to be bold and daring, or the boat-handling skills to execute bold and daring moves? Chicken or egg?

Original post by Tillerman and software by Elliott Back