On failure, resilience, and an ugly pizza
A personal story and a few life lessons on mistakes in sport
Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts. - Winston Churchill
I wouldn’t consider myself an excellent cook, but there is an inherent satisfaction when you eat something delicious that you have prepared with your own hands.
I use a weekly meal-prep service that provides the recipe and the ingredients needed to assemble a tasty entree—in this case, a caramelized onion and bacon, white pizza. I carefully followed each instruction to the letter and could feel my anticipation building for what was sure to be a culinary delight.
In this process, I was excited to use my new pizza peel—a tool for carefully transferring a raw, assembled pizza to a hot pizza stone or tray in the oven without disturbing all of the toppings. Unfortunately, I was far too focused on my kitchen gadget to realize I had made a fatal mistake in my preparation.
I opened the blazing oven and with all my attention directed at my pizza peel, I carefully transferred the pizza directly onto the top metal rack. Instantly, the sides of uncooked dough sagged helplessly over the grate like melted cheese.
I stood there in horror and quickly shut the oven door.
What have I done!?!
My shock was paralyzing. It took longer than I’d like to admit to discover that my careful preparation did not include a foundational element of the cooking process.
The pizza stone.
My emotions quickly bubbled up and I could feel tears coming to my eyes. I was overwhelmed by the thought that all of my hard work was ruined!
All because of one mindless mistake…
We don’t plan to make mistakes
As you prepare for your sport, you likely spend countless hours repeating drills, memorizing plays, and visualizing how you might respond to scenarios before stepping onto the field on game-day. Like carefully following a recipe, you work hard to position yourself for success with each practice.
Nevertheless, your preparation cannot, and will not, completely shield you from experiencing failure. Competitive sport is built on the fact that the team who wins the game is often the one who made the fewest mistakes.
Perfection is impossible—failure is unavoidable.
As a mental performance coach, I’ve found that one of the most productive things you can do following a mistake is extend grace and compassion to yourself. It’s ok to admit that sometimes your best efforts may fall short—failure is a part of life. This admission will open you up to be more resilient and ready to problem solve in the critical moments that follow.
Mistakes can be a result of misdirected attention
My good intentions certainly did not produce the outcome I had wanted and this same phenomena happens in sport. You see, when you focus on irrelevant (or unimportant) cues, you get undesired results!
Some examples of misdirected attention could be:
Dwelling on the results from your last competition
Focusing too much on what your opponent is doing
Trying to control specific physical movements
Listening to your critical self-talk
Getting “stuck” replaying (and beating yourself up for) a previous mistake
The key is to notice what holds your attention and how that focus impacts your feelings and actions. Choose to focus on areas of your game that are in your control and aligned with the goals you are looking to achieve. After the game, take time to evaluate whether those cues brought you closer to success and make adjustments as needed.
Reflect
How long does it take for you to recover after a mistake?
Are there certain mistakes that are more upsetting than others?
What might it look like if you did recover quickly from mistakes? How could you strive to be more like that version of yourself?
The Takeaway
Even the most prepared athletes make mistakes. Be compassionate to yourself and seek to recover quickly.
Be mindful of your attention and focus while competing. Focus on what is in your control and will progress you toward the outcome you desire.
If you’re still with me, you may be curious about my pizza!
Well, right before my emotions got the best of me, I determined that quick and decisive action was more important than wallowing in self-pity.
I had an intentional shift in attention.
I grabbed a cookie sheet, pulled out the bottom rack and with two big spatulas I scooped the pizza onto my tray. I decided a stromboli was better than no dinner at all!
My lesson? The recovery is more important than the mistake.
There’s no sense crying over an ugly pizza…especially one that is delicious!
