​The confessions that follow run the gamut. “I know I shouldn’t think this, but I hope my opponent gets injured,” some say. For others, it’s, “I wish I would get injured.” Then there’s those who admit to worrying what others think about them, or who sometimes hope they lose, or who worry too much about rankings, or who wish they had never come to the tournament in the first place.
 
When clients disclose these previously forbidden thoughts and feelings, I aim to do two things. (Though much has been written about “thoughts” versus “feelings,” we’re using the terms interchangeably here.) First, I compliment them for talking about it, for when we ignore or repress nagging thoughts, they tend to weigh us down in secret, unconsciously. Bringing them out into the open lets us deal with them directly. Second, I validate the unwanted thought or feeling, telling clients there are viable reasons they feel that way.
 
The second response is sometimes puzzling. Many clients are expecting to be told not to think this way or not to feel that way. Indeed, giving ourselves permission to be afraid or worried or to care what others think may feel like going to the “dark side.” Wouldn’t it be best not to think such things at all? Perhaps so -and therapy can often help - but I’ve yet to meet anyone who can fully control their own thoughts and emotions simply by telling themselves how to feel. Nobody goes to bed at night wanting to wake up nervous the next day, but it happens nonetheless. So rather than admonishing a client for thinking something they already wish they didn’t, I encourage them to acknowledge the thought – rather than to deny it or, worse, beat themselves up over it. Through deeper reflection and exploration, we can often discover why these unwanted thoughts are emerging in the first place, and then address them at their root. In the meantime, however, there are matches to be played.
 
Accepting the presence of unwanted thoughts and feelings is the beginning of mindful awareness. In a mindful stance, we notice our thoughts and feelings without trying to judge or control them. Instead, we acknowledge them and then decide what to do next. The self-talk of a competitor who is both anxious and mindful may sound like this: “Oh no, my family and teammates are all watching. If I mess up now it will be so embarrassing…(brief pause)…okay, so I’m feeling kind of nervous. Play through it and focus on the next point.”
 
Here the player mindfully acknowledges how they’re feeling without getting caught up in it. A less mindful and more judgmental approach would be: “Oh, no, I’m feeling nervous and worried about embarrassing myself. What’s wrong with me? I can’t expect to perform when I’m so negative all the time.” The mindful response lets us focus on the task at hand regardless of how we’re feeling, whereas a judging response leads to a cycle of psychological infighting.
 
Of course, if we can prevent troubling thoughts in the first place, we ought to do so. It’s analogous to preventing physical injury. We’d prefer to be fully healthy all the time. Yet the physical and psychological demands of sport make that next to impossible.
 
Sometimes we have no choice but to play through a little pain, whether that pain be physical or psychological. So if you find yourself feeling anxious or worried or angry, don’t despair. Instead, accept it and proceed. Relish it even. After all, you can’t be courageous without overcoming fear. More often than not, it’s the presence of your unwanted thoughts and feelings – not their absence – that give rise to the mental toughness you’re seeking.

​The thing is, she was already a good person. Believing that she had to prove it through her tennis raised the stakes in her mind to intolerable levels and, paradoxically, made it harder for her to play well. If she could decouple her performance on court from her personal value, then she could treat tennis like a game and start to have fun. This became a primary focus of our sport psychology work. Rather than viewing a competition as a forum for proving her worth, we agreed that “it’s not all that deep.” With this perspective on competition, she would either be a good person who had a great tournament or a good person who wasn’t satisfied with her play. She would much rather be the former, but either way, she would like the person in the mirror.

Certainly, tennis (and sports in general) can be a great vehicle for learning life lessons and developing desirable personal qualities. It can teach us how to set and pursue goals, persist through adversity, and embrace hard work – just to name a few. Kudos to coaches and parents who help young players foster these positive characteristics. Yet there is a risk in emphasizing these life lessons too much. If we see our children’s every move as an indicator of their emerging goodness or lack thereof, then we make each competition (and sometimes each practice) a high-stakes event. It’s hard for a kid to have fun under those circumstances. For that matter, it’s hard for an adult.

Seeing tennis as more than a game can add to an individual’s motivation and drive. However, most of the players who struggle psychologically are over-motivated rather than under-motivated, and tying their performance to life skills usually adds to their anxiety rather than elevates their performance. Like the individual described above, it makes a tennis match feel like a trial rather than an opportunity to compete and do what you love.
​
This is not to say we ought to stop talking about sport and character development, but rather to keep the “sport teaches life lessons” sentiment on the back burner most of the time. Instead, we can provide the ingredients a person needs to develop at their own pace – a supportive environment, timely and accurate feedback, and opportunities both to succeed and to struggle – and watch proudly as they learn and grow.

​1) Use a Pre-Practice Routine: A great practice session requires a certain attitude, and that means taking steps to get your mind in the right place. If you’re having a bad day, or a stressful one, and you bring that energy into practice with you, it’s likely to be a rough session. Same goes if you’ve been lazing around all day. That’s not a problem, so long as you’re ready to go when practice begins. That’s where a pre-practice routine comes in. It allows you to go about your day freely and also to be mentally prepared when it matters. I advise athletes to decide when their practice-mode starts and to take steps to get there. For example, if practice officially begins at 3pm, you might start getting into practice mode at 2:45. A convenient routine could be changing into a practice mindset as you change your shoes at the tennis center. Or you might prefer to start that process when you’re travelling there. It doesn’t matter exactly what your pre-practice routine is, so long as you have one and follow it.
 
2) Focus on Getting Better: A defining feature of deliberate practice is doing the activity with the specific intent to improve. Perhaps that sounds obvious. Why else would you practice? Well, many people practice just to check it off their list, or to feel like they’ve done something, or because someone is making them go. Others spend a lot of time and energy complaining, or wondering whether they’re as good as someone else, or getting mad at themselves for making mistakes. All of these are distractions. If you want to get better, it’s actually a good thing to mess up in practice, because that’s the time to fix your mistakes and improve on your weaknesses. It’s why you’re there in the first place.
 
3) Set Goals for Practice: The most surefire way to improve with each practice is to set specific goals every time. This is another thing that separates deliberate practice from merely showing up. If I ask you what you’re working on today, you ought to have an answer. If not, you won’t fully benefit from the time you’re putting in. Ideally, you’ll set goals to target your weaknesses, whatever they may be. That’s where your greatest gains can be made. And if you need help setting practice goals, ask a coach, which brings us to our next tip.
 
4) Communicate: Another feature of deliberate practice is receiving timely and accurate feedback. Sometimes you receive that feedback when the ball lands in or out, but much of the time you need someone else (usually a coach) to let you know how you’re doing. The best communicators actively seek out feedback, rather than passively waiting to be told, so ask questions and make use of your coaches’ expertise. Another aspect of communication is good listening. This includes being receptive to criticism, which is easier to do when you perceive it as corrective feedback to help you improve, rather than as a personal attack. Good listening also means asking clarifying questions if you don’t understand what a coach or trainer is trying to tell you. Rather than just nodding your head, ask them to explain or to demonstrate. There are many people around you who want to help you improve, and the better you are at communicating with them, the more you’ll benefit from their help.
 
 5) Use a Post-Practice Routine: Our final tip is to use a method to transition out of practice. Just as a pre-practice routine can get you into an improvement-oriented mindset, a post-practice routine helps you lock-in the gains that you’ve made. This means taking a few moments to reflect on what you’ve learned and your progress towards your goals, as well as what you still need to improve. This is also a good time to set goals for your next practice. Ideally, you’ll write these things down in a practice journal. Being a reflective learner speeds your progress, and making time to reflect and to plan at the end of practice keeps you on the path of continuous improvement.
 
Have questions or comments?
Contact me at david@nashvilleperformancepsych.com
 

            Setting a specific goal means you know exactly what it is that you’re trying to accomplish. A measurable goal is one that can be easily evaluated, to know if you have achieved it or not. (These first two aspects of SMART goals are often neglected, and we’ll say a bit more about this below.) A helpful goal is also achievable – something that is within the realm of possibility rather than simply wishful-thinking. At the same time, we want our goals to require lots of effort and hard work, so not too easy, but achievable with effort. Next, a relevant goal is one that aligns with your purpose. If you can answer the question, “Why is this goal important to you?” then it’s relevant. Finally, making a goal time-based means that you give yourself a deadline to reach it. Identifying a time-frame when you expect your goal to become reality will prevent you from procrastinating on it or “kicking the can down the road.”
            You might ask what is an ideal time-frame for your goals. That’s a good question, and although the answer depends on the nature of each goal, your best bet is to set a combination of short and long-term goals. For example, you might set a year-long goal to improve your fitness, as measured by specific gains in strength and speed. To ensure you reach this larger goal, you would also set weekly and even daily goals for the number of sprints you’ll run and repetitions you’ll do in the weight room. By setting both short and long-term goals, you’ll have both a broader vision to guide you and a roadmap to get there.
            In addition to setting goals that are SMART, it’s also important to have a balance between process and outcome goals. An outcome goal focuses on the result, such as winning a tournament or obtaining a certain UTR. A process goal focuses instead on the steps you take to get there, such as hitting 30 extra serves at the end of practice every day for a month. To give another example in a school setting, an outcome-based goal would be getting straight A’s. A process-based goal, which helps you reach that outcome, would be taking notes on every class lecture or reading assignment and re-writing your notes before going to bed each day. As these examples show, process-based goals tend to be entirely within our control, whereas outcome-based goals have some element of chance. The good news is that if you focus on the process, then the desired outcome usually follows. For this reason, I recommend setting at least three process goals for every outcome goal.
            I mentioned above that individuals often struggle to set goals that are specific and measurable. When stating our goals, we often make the mistake of expressing our aspirations without being specific about our path to getting there. This is especially common when targeting intangible qualities such as attitude or focus. We might, for example, express a desire to “have a more positive attitude.” This is a laudable sentiment that most psychologists and coaches would endorse, yet the challenge remains to state specifically what having a more positive attitude looks like or sounds like. What exactly would you like to change? Asked another way, the questions is, “How will you evaluate, or measure, whether you’ve achieved the goal?” In order to answer these questions, you effectively have to define what a “positive attitude” means to you.
            Here are some options. First, you could set a goal to respond in a more positive way to your mistakes. More specifically, your goal could be to critique your errors without insulting yourself. Instead of saying to yourself, “I’m so lazy,” you would say “I need to get my feet moving more quickly next time.” Another option would be to have a more positive response to feedback from your coaches. The specific and measurable goal here could be to nod your head, repeat back the advice and say, “got it” each time your coach gives you instruction. If you set goals such as these, you’ll be well on your way to demonstrating a positive attitude.
            To get the most out of your practice time, it’s necessary to have a goal that you’re pursuing. Otherwise, you’ll just be going through the motions. In fact, having a goal in mind is one of the defining characteristics of “deliberate practice,” which is a topic we’ll be discussing in depth in the coming months. In a challenging sport like tennis, it’s impossible to be perfect. (That would be an unrealistic goal.) If you’re a goal-oriented person, that’s a good thing, because it means you’ll always have something to work on. For as long as you keep playing, you can keep improving. And if you enjoy the process of getting better every day, then setting and pursuing goals will be a meaningful part of your sport experience.

Certainly, tennis provides great theatre. Yet for many of us, competing feels less like starring in a movie and more like standing trial. And in this “trial by tennis match,” the prospect of losing hangs like a guilty verdict over your head, and you’re left to perform while awaiting punishment for your misdeeds.  
 
How does this happen? How is it that, in your daydreams, you view the intensity and pressure of a match as part of the appeal, yet in an actual match, the pressure leads to anguish and anxiety? The answer has to do with our perceptions. Anxiety stems from perceiving ourselves as threatened. That is, when we believe we’re in danger, we tend to get scared. If this sounds obvious, it’s because it is. Yet we so rarely stop to look at what’s scaring us and evaluate whether we’re actually in danger.
 
When the intensity is turned up and we feel safe, the pressure tends to make things more fun. If you like roller coasters or haunted houses or tough practice matches, then you know the feeling. These things add excitement to your life and break up the boredom. If you’ve willingly strapped yourself into a thrill ride, then you’re in what psychologists call a “paratelic” state, in which you’re craving action and seeking out pleasure. In contrast, if you’re in a car that suddenly slides across the ice, you’re likely in a “telic” state, when you want nothing more than calmness and stability. The same dichotomy holds true in a haunted house, where your paratelic state has you enjoying the mystery of not knowing what monster lurks around the corner, versus the telic state that arises in a home invasion. Similarly, for many players, a knock-down-drag-out rally in practice is paratelic-thrilling, whereas in a tournament it’s telic-scary.
 
If you find yourself fearing competition, the key to overcoming the problem may lie not in reducing the pressure you feel, but rather in changing how you interpret it. Said differently, you can overcome performance anxiety by making a reversal from a telic to a paratelic state. This is the primary premise of Reversal Theory, originally developed by Michael Apter and Ken Smith in the 1970’s. As the examples above suggest, we can make this type of shift by realizing that we’re not in danger.
 
On a tennis court, you are, in fact, safe (notwithstanding the risk of a sprained ankle and other such injuries). Your life is not at risk. If you feel otherwise, then let’s look at why you’re afraid. When we face our biggest fears, we often find that the danger is more imagined than real.
 
Perhaps you’re afraid of losing. Nobody likes to lose, but to be afraid of it? That only makes sense if you think a loss would define you. If you believe you have a set maximum ability, then a loss would reveal your ultimate status as a player, and that would be scary. Yet if you believe, as all the evidence shows, that athletes can improve through deliberate practice and good coaching, then a loss simply reveals what to work on next. (And actually, a win reveals the same thing, as you can always learn something about your strengths and weaknesses, regardless of the match outcome.)
 
Maybe you play with fear because you think the result of the current point will determine the outcome of not only the match at hand, but also your entire athletic career and, by extension, your overall success in life. If this describes you, then a healthy dose of perspective is in order. In reality, our success and happiness are the result of an infinite number of events and, in turn, our responses to them, rather than being determined by the unforced error you may or may not make at five-four, or even at Championship Point.
 
Perhaps your anxiety on the court is like the fear that arises when you’re about to get in trouble. Maybe you’re worried that your coaches – or perhaps your parents – will yell at you or will like you less if you mess up. Typically, when a coach gives you feedback, they’re trying to help you get better. The best coaches critique your technique and strategy and effort, but not you as a person. If you’re afraid of getting corrective feedback, you may be taking it too personally. And if the threat is coming from your parents - or you perceive it to be - then it’s worth having a conversation about it. I encourage families not to let an on-court performance, good or bad, determine how they get along. If you’re planning to go out for pizza after a tournament as a family, then you ought to do so (and to enjoy it, best you can) regardless of how well the tournament goes. A player should only get “in trouble” after a tennis match if they showed poor sportsmanship or otherwise behaved badly.
 
These are just a few reasons a player may feel threatened by a tennis match. Whatever the basis of your fear, I encourage you to look at it with a critical eye – to examine not only how to reduce your anxiety, but also to question why you’re anxious in the first place. If we can figure that out, then we can address the problem at the source, and a pressure-filled match will feel less like a trial and more like an adventure.