KIN 596: Progress, Not Perfection

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged and I can’t really say too much has happened, other than a slow attempt to proceed with the work on my research project that I was supposed to do a while ago. Is it procrastination that’s holding me back? Or just the uncertainty that what I’m trying to contribute will unlikely go anywhere? Is it the curse of knowing too much? Maybe I read a few too many books.

It’s been frustrating trying to get my research proposal together, because I want to look at how Canadian athletes structure their practices through deliberate practice. Through personal experience, I understand that we are typically not very deliberate in how we do things, and it’s more about increasing training volume so that we can learn to do things habitually, or automatically, which tends to be based on the Asian badminton system. But the argument for deliberate practice is that we need deliberate practice to improve performance, which requires repetition, immediate feedback, and purpose, which also happens to be limited each day, requires a coach/teacher, and is not inherently enjoyable. I also appreciate how I can write that in a blog post in 20 seconds, instead of 20 minutes after looking for references to cite everything. Usually by the time I complete the references, I forget what I’m trying to talk about, but I digress.

The frustration stems from an imprecise definition of deliberate practice which has some back and forth in the literature. Recently, a meta analysis came out in 2016 which found that deliberate practice in sport only accounts for 18% of the variance in performance. But that’s the problem with science and research, because if I wanted to improve performance, I would take anything to see if it make a difference or not. The other problem is that a lot of other things that affect expertise is largely outside of one’s control: eg. grit, mindset, working memory capacity, opportunity, genetics, etc. So, how is a Canadian badminton player supposed to try and make it in international badminton when all these things are far outside the control of the athlete? Everyone is a critic, and everyone has their own idea, but nobody has really had the chance to prove it. In other words, nobody has made it yet. Some have been really close, but is it a method, or is the athlete/team special in a particular way? Regardless, if deliberate practice is controllable by athletes and coaches for training purposes, then perhaps it can be controlled for research purposes too.

But there are issues with the definition of deliberate practice. Lately, it seems as if a coach or teacher is necessary to engage in deliberate practice. Without deliberate practice, things get increasingly automated, which is a good thing for the most part, but you aren’t necessarily getting better. Deliberate practice is needed for constant improvement and it never really ends. Some may even say that if you’re not improving, you’re getting worse. There is no middle ground or maintenance, because someone is always pushing the standards. You may technically stay the same, but if everyone else is improving, by default, you are getting worse relative to everyone else, though your ability may be the same as it was before. However, I think automation is a necessary thing so that less processing is needed as to attend to additional cognitive tasks. In badminton, we need to first learn how to make contact with the shuttle. Once that’s automatic, we learn to move to the shuttle, then we can learn to aim, then we can learn additional tactical choices. We can even learn to take our eyes off the shuttle for a moment to look at the court or our opponents, which requires automatic processing for many of the previous steps I just mentioned. However, this is not in the research, so I can’t really include this in a “literature review”. It frustrates me because I’m put in a box with boundaries, and I need to stay within those boundaries. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been procrastinating.

So why is this important for Canadian badminton? Because we don’t have much time to practice. Because we often mix development with high performance. Because it’s the only thing we can control. Returning to the requirement of needing a coach/teacher for feedback, what is there isn’t a best way to do something? What if the coach/teacher is the best person available? What is you think you know better than the coach/teacher? Are the coach/teacher’s deliberately practicing their coaching/teaching methods? These questions are serious, but I can’t write that in my literature review because there may not be any literature about this situation. So how am I supposed to define “deliberate practice”? Can I not just account for both in my data collection? When will athletes do their own practice, and when will they practice with a coach/teacher? Then I would have both ways and can calculate to see if it really makes a difference.

It’s time to redo my research proposal, because it wasn’t very clear overall. I would agree, I didn’t really do a good job at first, but that’s part of the learning experience. I got feedback and now it’s time to make an effortful change. It’s not enjoyable, but wait… this sounds exactly like deliberate practice. I need to review my stats for statistical analysis and also ensure my methods are labelled correctly. Finally, I need to get the ethical parts right. I had other things I wanted to do initially, but it would be too difficult with the ethics because it’s fairly easy to figure out who’s who based on historical results in Canada. I would prefer to deal with public data in the future, but collecting data is a learning experience in itself. Deliberate practice for the win.

The closest thing I have seen to deliberate practice in badminton was from Kenneth Larsen at the BWF Coaching Conference in conjunction with the World Junior Championships at the Pan Am Centre in Markham, Ontario last November. But how can I reference this when he clearly doesn’t mention the word “deliberate practice” at all in the entire presentation? However, it is still worth a watch.

So as Denzel Washington’s character, Robert McCall, says in The Equalizer, “Progress, not perfection,” I figure I need to continue on step by step. Success is outside of my control, so trying my best is all I’ve got. And often, it’s more than enough.

KIN 530: Going in Circles

I feel like I’m stuck: analysis paralysis. I want to look at talent identification and talent development, and it seems like the literature is pointing me in a few directions:

  • the nature vs. nurture debate, which includes deliberate practice
  • structured trauma, which relates to mental toughness, resiliency, and at times grit and growth mindset
  • deliberate practice itself, which includes varying definitions (e.g. is competition deliberate practice?)

There is so much breadth to consider, but what if we started from the top instead? If we have a Gold Medal Profile, we can consider winning style of play and performance results tracking (ahhh… good old KIN 515). If we projected backwards from the top, we can create a podium pathway. However, there is some evidence in the literature that the best athletes weren’t necessarily the best when they were young.

So what do I even look at? It feels like I’m going in circles.

But wait, what would an athlete need to stay on that pathway? Are there key traits that would keep them from quitting? What would it take to keep an athlete on a podium pathway in their sport?

From a Gold Medal Profile standpoint, it would likely be in the Psychological domain. If it’s necessary to keep them on the pathway, then it may be useful to consider and find a way to measure it. Growth mindset and grit appear to come up in the literature, including other aspects, like mental toughness and resiliency. Growth mindset and grit also seem to be linked to deliberate practice, which is likely a necessity in the development of the other GMP parameters.

Can this be linked back to talent identification and development? Maybe “showing up is 80% of (sport) life” as well, wisdom from Woody Allen. You have to show up to be on the pathway, and maybe the last 20% is staying on the pathway.

No, it’s probably 20% showing up, and 80% trying to stay in the pathway. That probably takes deliberate practice.

So have we almost gone full circle?

Questions:

  • Do you agree or disagree? What do you think it takes?
  • What are the major Psychological attributes you would consider for your sport? Would this be unique to the sport, or are there similarities that all sports share?
  • Does this apply less to team sports? Making a team is another problem most of the time, as you can’t show up if you’re technically not on the team!

(Random) Stuck

I think I’ve done it. It’s actually on paper (well, in Excel and R). I’ve formulated my version of a “Podium Pathway”. Like… you can actually see the pathway to transition between levels, based on tournament results. I’ve divided it into different tracks and aligned it with the Canadian Sport Intitute – Pacific’s targeted athlete list levels (Provincial Development 1 & 2, Canadian Development). I’ve readjusted ranking points so that players can be ranked accordingly, even if they challenge up an age group. It’s more or less complete.

… but… I don’t know who to go to for feedback. And that’s where I’m stuck.

It’s interesting to analyze my fear of sharing, because it feels as if I’m worried that someone will just steal my work. It’s like I need to add such a layer of complexity to it so that it would be difficult to steal, without the technical knowledge of how it operates (why I started learning R programming). Not that my programming level is very good, but I think I also fear that people will not understand it. I fear that they will steal my work AND misinterpret it. And then, that’s where the damage is done.

“We suffer more in imagination than in reality.” – Seneca

Fear is a funny thing, because writing about this helps clarify my thoughts a bit more. Perhaps I fear that this is my expertise, and once everyone starts to understand this, it no longer becomes expert knowledge. If it is no longer expert knowledge, then I won’t be an expert anymore. That sounds kind of silly, even to me. Perhaps “imposter syndrome” is getting to me. The cure to that is to always continue learning. Perhaps that is the key to this whole process.

I often like to turn tough decisions into a binary question. Zero or one. Yes or no. Do I want to get to a final solution through collaboration, or do I want to be cautious in how I proceed for the sake of not getting my work stolen?

I’d much rather get to that final solution.

Besides, the way I see it, I’m sure someone might be also on the same track. I’d rather move forwards than stay in a limbo of no improvement (like my badminton currently… ouch).

I guess I’ve unstuck myself. Life is too short to worry about credit that might not come anyway.

Wait… but if I can validate this as my thesis somehow… hmmm… definitely something to think about!

(Random) The End is Near

Though one part is nearing and end, another part has begun. The transition process isn’t easy, but perhaps that is not an appropriate way to judge such a perception. I think the best way to look at it is that things are different.

However, perhaps some things do not change. Being an expert in my sport is a continuing journey and the expertise I’ve accumulated as an athlete is coming to an end. But that doesn’t mean that it’s over, far from it. Thus, begins the journey as a coach and performance director. It is very much like an experiment. I am my own case study, but can I find a way to duplicate the process? Can I find a way to improve on that even? And as I learn more about the things I wish I had known when I was still competing, my only choice is now to pass it on to upcoming athletes. Although I may still apply certain principles to my own athletic pursuits, those pursuits will be substantially diminished. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone and I can just play for enjoyment. I wish I understood this a long time ago.

So my new pursuits include coaching and other leadership and management positions, and I have fortunately acquired a position with Badminton BC as the Performance Lead. I can understand the struggles of trying to develop programs with limited financial resources, but it’s a similar principle as an amateur athlete: you make the most with what you have, and you do your best. Although as an athlete, I am ultimately the one in control whereas it’s different when you are a coach or program director. But at least I understand the struggle: I’ve been there.

It’s always an intriguing challenge: how can you do more with less? That’s the question I’ve constantly struggled with as an athlete. Sometimes it’s trying to add more, at times it’s about eliminating the inefficiencies. However I do want to acknowledge my own fortune, as I know there have been those with a lot less than me, and luck was also a factor for me at times. But I have also seen those who have struggled and failed, some with more potential than myself and others who could not overcome their inner demons. For the sake of not getting carried away, we will save that for another discussion.

Sometimes I cannot relate to the new generation of athletes, but we are competing in a different generation. There is so much more opportunity today, but at the same time, I see so many more distractions. I never had to worry about training with or without my phone because at my peak, technology wasn’t at the level it is now. On the flip side, it’s so much more easy to get match footage but yet I still don’t see too many people to make the effort to film their matches. In this day an age of the YOLO (“You Only Live Once”) and FOMO (“Fear of Missing Out”), I see athletes going for those short term gains, instead of the long term ones. Remember the expression? “Short term pain, long term gain?”. The concept of delayed gratification? But of course not. Why do that if “you only live once”? Don’t you have that “fear of missing out?”

Instead, I have gone down the rabbit hole of Stoic Philosophy, and replaced YOLO and FOMO with “Memento Mori” (remember that you are mortal) and “Amor Fati” (love of fate). Although “memento mori” sounds an awful lot like YOLO, I think it’s very different: YOLO seems like the thing to say in certain situations of high risk, like before you go sky diving or bungee jumping. Conversely, “memento mori” reminds you that you are not invincible, no matter what your ego might tell you. It grounds you (almost literally) so that you might consider LESS risk. Additionally, it puts perspective on everything because we all have a death sentence. We just don’t know when we will go.

“Amor fati” is a reasonable counter to FOMO as missing out on things is left to fate. No Commonwealth Games this year for me? Nice, I have time to finish all my two papers due in early April. Perhaps that’s just fate. Looking back, both my Olympic runs were more or less run by fate. If only you knew the ups and downs and all the back stories involved, but that can probably write a book itself.

Looking at the way this season has went for my badminton, it seems like some incredible signals for me to retire. Let’s just stop this madness, as a nice way to put it. It hasn’t been an easy experience, especially as I originally fought it. I didn’t want to let go of a chance at Tokyo in 2020, but all signs are pointing at me to stop. Shoulder issues, losing partners, can’t find partners, and other things which might violate my National Team agreement. Remember, we can’t say anything “bad”. And I don’t have to, because it’s okay. I had a good run and I’m happy to leave if I’m not needed. It has gotten to the point that my utility as an athlete is probably less than that of my utility as a coach or performance director. So I will finish my time rehabilitating my shoulder and say goodbye to my international pursuits at the 2018 Canada Open.

To continue further is to let my ego take control, because it tells me that I won’t get that ending I deserve and I will be forgotten. Sometimes I still think I can compete, and of course, I can play badminton, but looking to qualify for Tokyo is really a bad life strategy. Considering I’m sometimes more than a decade older than other National Team athletes, that’s a big difference. But transitioning into coaching or other administrative duties within the sport, I’m the young person. I’m the one at the bottom. Fortunately, I have acquired a diverse skill set from my competition days and it does give me a bit of an advantage, but there’s lots to learn. Perhaps I’m technically competing against other coaches with decades or more of experience over me, and that’s going to be a hefty challenge. However, my one edge is that I know what it takes to be really good at something, and it’s simple.

Be humble and know that there will likely always be someone better than you. That is a good person to find to teach you, or at worst, to learn from. It’s no different from my days as an athlete. That’s the first thing I did, which accelerated my badminton to the next level: I found a former Olympic Gold Medalist for a coach. However, I did shut myself off from learning for a while, but I soon realize that methods will change because people find ways of getting better. Methods need to evolve as well, and you cannot do that without learning. So learning is where it’s always going to be.

So be humble, and always keep learning. Don’t compare yourself with other people, and keep your ego in check. Some may believe attention is the greatest form of currency, but it doesn’t have to be if you keep your ego in check. Post things because you want to, not because of how many “Likes” or “Hearts” you may or may not get. There will always be someone with more attention than you, so worry about the things that are important to you. And if attention is that important, then go all out. Do your thing.

And that’s what I gotta keep doing. Doing my thing. Whatever it is, wherever I go.