My daughter swims her heart out to constantly shave off fractional seconds from her times to make the cut for the year’s big regional swim meet. It’s the one that every kid wants to qualify for. And it is a real endorsement when they make it. On the way to the year’s final, she also qualified for some smaller competitions and recently at once of those, my daughter called me from on-deck in tears telling me she can’t do her 200m medley. This was two minutes before she was to step onto the diving block. From the stands, I tried to read the body language to see what’s on her and her coach’s minds. After a few more brief words, we hung up. She was a DNS on her event and her the coach substituted her with another swimmer for the subsequent relay.
Some coaches would do everything they can to ensure that kid gets into the water to finish the heat. Some coaches would minimize the athlete’s anxieties and offered to sit them out so they can be more prepared next time. I’m glad my daughter’s coach didn’t do either of these and simply allowed me, as the parent, to handle off-deck situations. I’m also glad that at that event, my ex wasn’t present. My daughter told me that previously when she had a panic attack, her mom yelled at her and said, “You swim because I didn’t wake up this early to drive you here just so you can sit out.” I have no words for this type of parenting and it’s no wonder my ex and I are oceans apart on so many matters.
Sports anxieties, performance anxieties or any type of public distress in kids are as real as if they had occurred in adults. Our kids aren’t in recreational activities anymore. At this level of engagement, competition is as real as it gets. In the activities my daughter participates, she’s an anchor to her swim team and an integral part of the orchestra in her music school. We have progressed years beyond showing up as interest only programs. And as such, there are dependencies, expectations and demands from others and the stresses are genuine.
Parents may want to review is their pre-game pep talk with their child. While we intent well and assume that lavishing reassurances and support will beef up their confidence, the young athlete may feel even greater pressure. Your confidence and your hopes have expectations. So, stop it.
The number one thing not to do when a child is literally having second, third or even fourth thoughts is to push them to do it. That’s like pushing a bungee jumper. Trauma like this will just cause the child to hate the activity in the end. Behind the tears, the tension, sweating, increased heart rate and near hyperventilating breaths, are the worries, negativity and self-doubt. It can be any number of things and chances are, it has nothing to do with the sport itself—it manifests at sporting events because the stakes and pressures are so high. And the worse part of anxieties is that it is not a low to high thing, but a cyclical thing. In other words, the athlete’s belief of poor performance and failure hits the nerves. Nervousness increases. They hit a choke point. They circle back without an exit and the whole thing repeats causing the young athlete to spiral into depression like sensations where they cannot mentally pull themselves out. The physicalizing of their distress is only the tip of the iceberg of what they are feeling.
Each child is different and the cause of sports anxieties are complex. And while there is no panacea, the one thing all parents can do right from the start is to acknowledge the heaviness the child carries under these circumstances. The other thing that parents may want to review is their pre-game pep talk with their child. While we intent well and assume that lavishing reassurances and support will beef up their confidence, the young athlete may feel even greater pressure. Your confidence and your hopes have expectations. So, stop it. You being there in silent support is already a huge tether for them. Let that be enough.
One thing that’s worked well for my daughter and me is to keep a routine. On the morning of a meet, we wake up unrushed. I make a liquid breakfast that she drinks in the car. I pack some fruits and high protein snacks in her bag and we drive there listening to music. We don’t take scenic routes or stop for gas or other errands. We keep everything simple and uneventful as rushing to get there will almost always end in high drama. Our pre-game routine is her chill time that she needs hours before she performs. She brings her headphones. I check all my bias and preferences and just show up—empty handed. Me doing nothing allows her to do anything.
