Most debriefs start with what you can see. You went right when you were supposed to go left. Watch the film, talk it through, practice the correction. Your fitness faded late in the game? Look at your conditioning and what needs to change before the next competition. These findings give you something concrete to work on. But some things never make the tape.
If you spent the hour before competition with a tight chest, trying to quiet a mind that kept running through everything that could go wrong. By the time you started, you were already tired. You competed anyway, perhaps even competed well, but getting there took more out of you than anyone realized. That belongs in the debrief, too.
Athletes can be quick to treat anxiety as a personal weakness, even when they would readily ask for help with a technical problem. A missed assignment becomes something to practice. Anxiety becomes something to hide. It deserves a closer look.
Anxiety involves the body’s response to perceived threat. A competitive situation can change your breathing and pull your attention toward what might go wrong. Your muscles tighten. You feel ready to move, or strangely unable to move at all. Schmidt and colleagues (2008) documented freeze-type responses to a threat stressor in a laboratory setting, with some people reporting stronger responses than others. An athlete’s response has a physical component… that’s unavoidable. The possibility of failing in public, disappointing a coach, or missing an attempt can feel threatening even when the athlete knows they are physically safe.
Reflective question: when you felt anxious, is it possible you overestimated the degree of challenge? or underestimated your own ability?
The distance between the perceived threat, relative to the perception of one’s own ability, can map on to the degree of anxious (preparatory) response. This is not to dismiss anxiety in any form, only to acknowledge that we sometimes perceive the challenge as being larger than it actually is…
Those questions require some honesty. Sometimes the opponent really was better prepared. Sometimes you arrived knowing you hadn’t done enough. You can’t reframe your way into preparation you skipped. Other times, you had plenty of evidence that you were ready and gave almost none of it your attention. You had lifted the weight in training. You had handled this level of competition before. Still, one uncertain thought (aka, distraction) carried more weight than months of work.
The challenge you perceived may have been larger than the one you actually faced. Your sense of your own ability may have been smaller than the evidence supported. Looking back gives you a chance to examine both.
It also gives you a chance to notice what happened after the anxiety started. A racing heart is one experience. Deciding that a racing heart means you’re about to fall apart adds another problem. Now you’re monitoring yourself for signs of losing control while trying to compete. That can get exhausting. Every sensation becomes something to check, and the task keeps slipping out of focus.
Psychological skills training gives athletes ways to work with that response. It starts with noticing what happens for you. Does your breathing speed up? Do you rush your setup, or start questioning decisions you normally make without hesitation? Once you recognize the pattern, you can practice a response that fits.
A breathing strategy might help you settle enough to direct your attention. A familiar routine can give you something useful to do while you wait. A cue word may bring you back to the next action. These tools need practice, including during training when something is at stake. Knowing about a strategy and being able to use it under pressure are different things.
Consider a powerlifter waiting for a third-attempt squat. They may feel their heart pounding as they approach the platform. Complete calm probably isn’t necessary. Trying to force it could leave them more preoccupied with how they feel. They need to set up and execute the lift. If the activation is interfering, the question becomes what would help them do that now. Perhaps a slower exhale before approaching the bar. Perhaps less internal discussion and a return to the setup they’ve practiced hundreds of times. There’s room to feel anxious and still perform. Learning that through experience can change how an athlete approaches the next competition.
During the debrief, ask what the anxiety actually affected. Did you rush an attempt? Abandon your routine? Spend the warm-up trying to predict the outcome instead of preparing to compete? Be specific enough that the answer gives you something to practice.
Then put it in the plan. If anxiety disrupted your squat setup, practice the setup under pressure and rehearse how you’ll respond when the sensations return. The next competition’s preparation begins with what you’re willing to examine after this one.
Reference
Meijen, C., Turner, M., Jones, M. V., Sheffield, D., & McCarthy, P. (2020). A theory of challenge and threat states in athletes: A revised conceptualization. Frontiers in Psychology, 11, Article 126.
Schmidt, N. B., Richey, J. A., Zvolensky, M. J., & Maner, J. K. (2008). Exploring human freeze responses to a threat stressor. Journal of Behavior Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry, 39(3), 292–304.