Roy Palmer MSTAT NDT(INPP)
Success at sport can be unpredictable. On some days you may feel completely in control and sink that difficult putt or run the perfect race with total confidence in your ability and judgement. Other days, nothing goes right. The simple becomes impossible; you feel clumsy and incapable of carrying out your usual activities; it‚s as if your talent has deserted you. This always puzzled me. How could I apply my skills so effectively one moment only to become totally incompetent the next?
Roy Palmer
When the poor performances became more frequent and began to outnumber the good days, I decided to take action.
In common with most athletes, I suffered from injuries. But even when I was fully fit, my form remained erratic. Examining my experiences at both ends of the performance spectrum highlighted one main difference: It was how I moved, or more accurately, how the movement felt. On a good day, I felt light. My body was so quick to react to my wishes that I felt to be ahead of the game. In contrast, when my form dipped, there was a heaviness and apparent reluctance for spontaneous action. An average performance would be somewhere in between. Perhaps it should have been obvious to me, but because I was totally preoccupied with the what, getting the right result. I was unaware of the how. Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? But working with other athletes over the last ten years has shown I was by no means unique.
So what determined the standard of my performance and what could account for the gradual deterioration? I was in my mid-twenties and had just been awarded a karate black belt so I reasoned it could not be my age. Surely with experience and regular practice I should be getting better and was still a long way from my peak. Months experimenting with diet and training drills had very little impact. This is not to say nutrition and training are not important, but in my case I was convinced they were not the cause.
There was another as yet unknown factor influencing the quality of my performance.
Eventually, I found the answer to my dilemma that would radically change my attitude to sport and physical activity. It came from an unexpected source. Whilst trying to resolve a long-standing back problem, I came upon The Alexander Technique. At my first lesson, the teacher pointed out something I was doing that made movement much harder than it should be. This ‘something’ resulted in using far too much effort to carry out even simple activities and yet I wasn’t even aware I was doing it!
This came as quite a shock. I had mistakenly thought that my years of running, swimming and karate training, whilst achieving respectable results, should have taught me at least how to move efficiently. Apparently not. In my case I had spent that time learning to do things badly and the longer I trained the better I got at doing things badly. My situation had deteriorated as the poor habits I had unknowingly developed resulted in poor movement, which in turn, conditioned my muscles in such a way that led to yet more inefficient movement. It was a vicious circle and as my standard of movement declined, so did my appreciation and memory of what good movement actually felt like. Whoever said ‘practise makes permanent, not necessarily perfect’ must have had me in mind.
So now I had an answer. In an instant my teacher could show me what I needed to stop doing in order to allow my body to move easier. By using her hands she could get me to move with the lightness I associated with a peak performance. Problem solved I thought. Well actually it was the just beginning because there is this considerable barrier called habit. Habit determines how we do just about everything, yet we are practically oblivious of its presence and hence its influence. Without her hands to guide me, when asked to stop tightening my neck, shoulders and back just get out of a chair I found I could not. When asked to take a step forward without collapsing into the supporting leg I found I could not. If I could not carry out these basic activities that make up the building blocks of all human movement, how could I trust in my ability to perform the complex techniques of my sport? Not a chance.
Since my first experience of The Alexander Technique my life has changed dramatically. Partly because I gave up a career in IT and trained as a teacher myself, and partly because I feel more confident with my body and record performances now in my mid forties that I would have been pleased with in my twenties!
I teach sports people of all abilities and backgrounds and have written three books on the subject - for more information please click here.
In common with most athletes, I suffered from injuries. But even when I was fully fit, my form remained erratic. Examining my experiences at both ends of the performance spectrum highlighted one main difference: It was how I moved, or more accurately, how the movement felt. On a good day, I felt light. My body was so quick to react to my wishes that I felt to be ahead of the game. In contrast, when my form dipped, there was a heaviness and apparent reluctance for spontaneous action. An average performance would be somewhere in between. Perhaps it should have been obvious to me, but because I was totally preoccupied with the what, getting the right result. I was unaware of the how. Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? But working with other athletes over the last ten years has shown I was by no means unique.
So what determined the standard of my performance and what could account for the gradual deterioration? I was in my mid-twenties and had just been awarded a karate black belt so I reasoned it could not be my age. Surely with experience and regular practice I should be getting better and was still a long way from my peak. Months experimenting with diet and training drills had very little impact. This is not to say nutrition and training are not important, but in my case I was convinced they were not the cause.
There was another as yet unknown factor influencing the quality of my performance.
Eventually, I found the answer to my dilemma that would radically change my attitude to sport and physical activity. It came from an unexpected source. Whilst trying to resolve a long-standing back problem, I came upon The Alexander Technique. At my first lesson, the teacher pointed out something I was doing that made movement much harder than it should be. This ‘something’ resulted in using far too much effort to carry out even simple activities and yet I wasn’t even aware I was doing it!
This came as quite a shock. I had mistakenly thought that my years of running, swimming and karate training, whilst achieving respectable results, should have taught me at least how to move efficiently. Apparently not. In my case I had spent that time learning to do things badly and the longer I trained the better I got at doing things badly. My situation had deteriorated as the poor habits I had unknowingly developed resulted in poor movement, which in turn, conditioned my muscles in such a way that led to yet more inefficient movement. It was a vicious circle and as my standard of movement declined, so did my appreciation and memory of what good movement actually felt like. Whoever said ‘practise makes permanent, not necessarily perfect’ must have had me in mind.
So now I had an answer. In an instant my teacher could show me what I needed to stop doing in order to allow my body to move easier. By using her hands she could get me to move with the lightness I associated with a peak performance. Problem solved I thought. Well actually it was the just beginning because there is this considerable barrier called habit. Habit determines how we do just about everything, yet we are practically oblivious of its presence and hence its influence. Without her hands to guide me, when asked to stop tightening my neck, shoulders and back just get out of a chair I found I could not. When asked to take a step forward without collapsing into the supporting leg I found I could not. If I could not carry out these basic activities that make up the building blocks of all human movement, how could I trust in my ability to perform the complex techniques of my sport? Not a chance.
Since my first experience of The Alexander Technique my life has changed dramatically. Partly because I gave up a career in IT and trained as a teacher myself, and partly because I feel more confident with my body and record performances now in my mid forties that I would have been pleased with in my twenties!
I teach sports people of all abilities and backgrounds and have written three books on the subject - for more information please click here.
