The Edge: Peak Performance Psychology

Essentials of optimal performance.

Thank you, Eric Lindros!

Just a "ding"? Not by a long shot!

Dear Mr. Lindros,

Thank you for referring Scott to me. You don't know me, of course-and, actually, you don't know Scott, either. But it's directly because of you that Scott came in to meet with me about the aftermath of his most recent concussion.

"Scott" isn't his real name. I've changed his name and some facts about him, though I hardly need to: Concussion in contact sports is so ubiquitous that he could well be a next door neighbor or the kid down the street. Athletes and fans love stats. Well, the stats repeatedly show a rate of concussion in 6-10% of players per season, depending on the sport and the level of play.

And Scott is hardly unique as hockey jocks go: a late adolescent, his entire world, practically since he could stand, has revolved around lacing up those skates and getting out on the ice. Practicing, playing, hanging out with his teammates-it's a routine he's relished. He's got plans, too: playing in the National Hockey League is, he says, his first priority.

But now all that's changed. Scott says he's had a "ton of concussions" over the years-like a lot of his teammates. A "ding" here, a brief loss of consciousness there. He's always picked himself up, pushed through, been a strong team member who can handle anything.

A few months ago, during a game, he "got hurt," as he describes it. A few days off, a bit dizzy, but still-it was the playoffs and his team needed him. Another hit. It wasn't bad, so he finished the game, celebrated with his teammates, let off steam for days after. And then came the realization that he wasn't bouncing back this time. He went through a string of medical appointments and pokings and proddings. He's got classic and persistent symptoms of concussion: daily headaches, discomfort with bright light, dizziness, problems concentrating-and despair. He's just hanging out, each day like the last and the next. He's kicking himself for all the ways he ignored past symptoms and advice. He's unable to do any activities on a sustained basis. And he's scared he'll never get to live his dream.

And that's where you came in, Mr. Lindros. Just about the first thing that Scott told me was about an article he read in MacLean's magazine (the Canadian equivalent of Time or Newsweek). "I was reading an article about Eric Lindros and other people going through concussion," he said. "A lot of them said this kind of stuff helps."

I've noticed a trend over the past few years: When a parent contacts me with an inquiry about assistance for their child, one of my first questions is always, "I hear that you see the value in sport psychology. But is your daughter/son interested in working with a sport psychologist?" Increasingly, the answer has become some variant of "Yes! He asked me to find a sport psychologist for him to work with!"

That's fantastic from my perspective, better than any organization's public education materials can ever be, stronger than any individual marketing. When that athlete comes in, I'll know he's motivated; I'll feel confident that she's anticipating that the work we do will be helpful to her. All I need to do is deliver-I don't need to convince him or her first.

What's the reason for this change? Athletes have been increasingly public about their work with sport psychologists. Pretty consistently, they say that sport psychologists have been helpful to their athletic development-whether it's about building confidence, learning focused concentration, managing pre-game jitters, or enhancing team cohesion. Athletes have in one way or another been delivering that message and that role modeling-and it's been a boon to the work that we do.

You, Mr. Lindros, have gone a step farther: You've talked about the dark side, the depression and anxiety that can be a very real part of concussion recovery. You've talked about the ways in which having someone knowledgeable, supportive, and objective, outside of one's well-meaning friends and overly-solicitous family, can be a lifeline and a significant element in recovery.

And people like Scott, people who are in pain and emotional isolation, are reaching out to get help that might never have occurred to them otherwise.

Scott is pretty seriously depressed. Along with giving him support, we talked about a number of things that he can do to improve his mood and feel that he's being active in his own recovery. He'll learn how to contain his "what if" and "if only" thoughts. He'll begin doing light physical activity in order to re-connect with his identity as an athlete and to improve his mood. He needs to become a "student of Scott": he is now curious to see if he can find the subtle patterns that will help him pace his recovery. To that end, he's started keeping a journal. And he's going to brainstorm with his family some projects he can complete over the next few months, both to give structure to his days and to feel a sense of accomplishment.

These are the first steps. How long will it take before he gets out of his funk? When will he be able to get back on the ice? That I don't know-I guess that's what makes me a psychologist and not a psychic!

But I do feel confident that, together, Scott and I can figure out ways in which he's going to be able to change his mood and understand more about himself, whatever the outcome. At the end of our first meeting, Scott commented, "I feel better."

Thanks to you, Mr. Lindros.

Sincerely,
Dr. Kate Hays

You can reach me directly @ http://www.theperformingedge.com

 



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Kate F. Hays, Ph.D., is a psychologist and author whose practice in Toronto, The Performing Edge, focuses on sport and performance psychology.

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