26/08/2021
Following on from my earlier post (and a recent podcast, soon to be aired) regarding the mental health challenges of athletes, Iâd like to take several minutes to go into greater depth about what I see as an increasingly significant contributing factor in this important issue. Itâs about the way we actually develop, train and produce our top athletes. And Iâd like to employ a comparison that Iâve made previously (in talks and articles): elite athletes and defence personnel.
So letâs look at the latter here, soldiers in the Armed Forces. We all know that soldiers go through a particular type of training, over a specific period of time (letâs call it âBasic Trainingâ). What happens during basic training is that recruits are brought up to a certain level of physical fitness, mental readiness, skills acquisition, and general preparedness, for general duties (and possible deployment). I think most people would accept that, and it makes sense. For some of these recruits (those who aspire to join the ranks of âSpecial Forcesâ), subsequent training is even more intensive, even brutal.
In sports, a very similar process takes place. When you first join a team or a club, there is a period of training (a learning curve) where the athleteâs physical fitness, mental readiness, sports-specific skills and general preparedness for the competitive environment are explored and built up. For those who show a certain aptitude or desire, more intensive training (mostly physical and skills-based, but also mental) will take place. This additional training is designed to see just how good the athlete can be, to explore the limits of their capability, and to ready them for the world stage. Makes sense, right?
Back to the soldiers. Clearly it is important to make sure that we have well-trained, extremely fit, highly dedicated and skilled individuals, working as a team in a well-oiled machine, doing their jobs efficiently in an often challenging environment. In order to ensure their effectiveness, we modify certain aspects of their mental, emotional and physiological functioning. We make them very alert and aware of their surroundings, and very sensitive to potential threats or dangers (hyper-vigilance). We make them very high-energy, very wound-up, ready to perform at any moment (hyper-arousal). We make them more task-oriented and less concerned with personal discomfort, distress or worry (emotional numbing). These (and other) changes make them more effective military machines, and increase the likelihood of their success in the field. Again, a sensible practice, right?
But hereâs an interesting point. Those three things I mentioned above (hyper-vigilance, hyper-arousal and emotional numbing) are three of the symptoms that we screen for when diagnosing post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Yes, theyâre effective (and even necessary) characteristics for doing a very challenging job, but they are also clinically significant in terms of mental health problems down the track. Theyâre not ânormalâ ways of functioning, and theyâre not really healthy or sustainable in a natural (civilian) environment.
Okay, back to athletes. We know that every year (and especially every four years, the Olympic cycle) there is a huge push to produce the best athletes for competition on the world stage. So we have a similar process of ensuring that we have the most well-trained, physically fit, highly dedicated and skilled individuals, travelling together as a team to represent our nation, to compete in a challenging environment against other nations. (Sounds a bit like a war, doesnât it?) And similarly, our process with athletes involves modifying certain aspects of their functioning, so that they can do what they need to do, and do it extremely well, without missing a beat. (Because thatâs what it takes to win Gold.) My question is: When we do this with our athletes, are we setting them up (unintentionally) to be vulnerable to those same kinds of mental and emotional challenges described above? Are we actually giving them characteristics that work great âin the fieldâ but that donât fit in so well with other aspects of normal life? Based on what weâve seen over the past couple of decades at the highest level of sport (and in recent weeks), I would suggest that the answer is âYesâ.
ALERT: This part may seem overly laborious. Bear with me.
Take a look at this list of âsymptomsâ:
- Exposure to extreme stress
- Unwanted upsetting memories
- Emotional distress or physical reactivity upon exposure to reminders
- Avoidance of things (or people) that bring back unpleasant thoughts or feelings
- Overly negative thoughts and assumptions about oneself or the world
- Exaggerated self-blame
- Negative mood
- Decreased interest in activities
- Feeling isolated
- Irritability or aggression
- Risky behaviours
- Difficulty concentrating
- Difficulty sleeping
- Symptoms create ongoing distress or functional impairment
- Lasts for more than 1 month
Does any of that seem familiar, if you were to apply it to an athlete you know, or one that youâve seen featured in the media recently? How many of the boxes would they tick? Well, hereâs the scary part: You know where I got that list of symptoms from? Thatâs the (almost) full list of diagnostic criteria for PTSD. Does THAT help to join the dots between elite athletes and soldiers?!
Yes, we can produce some of the most highly trained and best performing individuals (athletes or soldiers) on the planet. But at what cost to those individuals? Now, Iâm not saying that every person (athlete or soldier) who goes through this kind of training or has these experiences will be vulnerable to mental health challenges. Many actually thrive, and look upon their careers as among the greatest, most enjoyable and most enduring achievements of their lives. Some to a lesser extent, where it becomes simply a ânormalâ part of their lives, a worthwhile (even lucrative) career, or perhaps just a job (like so many others). And others choose to leave (due to dissatisfaction, or lack of achievement), or are forced to leave (due to injury, or poor performance).
So hereâs the point Iâm trying to make: Itâs not just that latter group (the ones who leave their chosen field) that we need to worry about. Yes, they may struggle, and they may need help with the transition. But we also need to concern ourselves with those who stay, those who seem to be successful, those who stay at the pinnacle, those who appear to endure and thrive. Because itâs often them who we see in the headlines, to our great surprise. Itâs often them who we question, and wonder âWhatâs going on in their life, whatâs wrong with them, what happened to make them stumble?â . . . when we really should be asking âWhat was the impact on them, of everything theyâve been subjected to by the culture and the institution they belong to? What, while they seemed to be getting stronger, was actually creating vulnerabilities? What did we NOT do so well (to them and for them) while we were doing other things so well?â
Think of it like blade-smithing (the process of making a sword). You take a good piece of steel, and you heat it, hammer it, shape it, bend it, sharpen it, heat it some more, quench it (to increase hardness), refine it and put a shine on it. And then you test it. But how can you tell which ones you subjected to too much heat, or hammering, or hardness? They all look roughly the same . . . until one of them breaks. And then? Do we blame the steel for being faulty or weak? Or do we actually question the bladesmith, or the processes they used, or the person who wielded the sword? Should we ask the swords (if they could speak), âWhich of you is feeling a bit fragile, and would rather not be tested?â Should we expect a few raised hands? I suspect not. But we DO need to find a way to stop breaking swords and then tossing them into a bucket in the corner.
We need to look at the numbers and realise that maybe weâre not doing something as well as we could be. We need to recognise that the training, the pressure, the âhardeningâ, the testing, the scrutiny . . . possibly the whole environment . . . has to change in some way, before we lose even one more soul. We need local, state, national and international sporting bodies (from junior club level up to IOC and professional level) to accept a degree of accountability for whatâs happening to the people in their charge. We need to have a better understanding of HOW the immense and intensive processes we use to create these super-humans (often before they even reach their late teens) might be affecting them mentally and emotionally. We need to more carefully nurture young people through the âfurnaceâ of parents, coaches, trainers, teammates, team managers, competitors, spectators, sponsors, media, and social-media trolls, ALL of whom play a role in the outcome.
We donât just need to count gold medals. We need to count people, and we need to understand how to help them become more sustainable athletes (and citizens). We can, and should, do better.