Reframing frustration
Uncomfortable emotions have a point
I've previously written about how great ultimate players need to throw a whole lot, and later shared one technique I use to stay sane while putting in lots of throwing hours. This post describes another tool I use to stay sane and avoid burnout.
When I was playing youth club basketball in high school, I went to a practice once with a guy named Mike Marra. He later went on to play at Louisville, which at the time was consistently one of the best college basketball teams in the country. Before tearing his ACL twice, he was a consistent contributor on a team that ended the season ranked 14th in the country. The author of the linked article says former Louisville coach Rick Pitino once told him Marra was "the best high school shooter he'd ever seen".
Point is, this kid was GOOD at basketball. As good as any club Nationals-level frisbee player is at frisbee, if not better.
I forget why we ended up at the same practice that night. He wasn't on my team; he was a good bit better than I was. There was something atypical about that night's practice—maybe the practice location changed at the last minute and only a few people from each team could make it out to the new venue. Whatever the reason, we ended up scrimmaging against each other that night.
Rick Pitino called him the best high school shooter he'd ever seen, but the night we played, he couldn't hit anything. His shot was completely off. Some small part of his shooting motion had gotten out of whack, and all his shots were missing slightly. And he was clearly frustrated. I vaguely remember him slamming the ball against the ground, swearing in frustration, and dunking angrily a few times to vent some pent-up emotions (sure wish I had that option!).
I don't know exactly how he fixed it in the end, but he obviously got past that night and ended up playing college basketball for one of the best programs in the country. I always thought it was funny—this famous basketball coach, whose name I'd known since I was a kid, said the best shooter he'd ever recruited was someone I'd personally met and had seen missing all his shots.
When we're trying to become great at sports, (and especially at those repetitive body motions like shooting a ball or throwing a disc) frustration is eventually going to be part of the process. Whether you're Mike Marra or Michael Jordan or just trying to make a Regionals-level club ultimate team—no one can reach their potential without dealing with frustration. Judging by how he handled it, I don't think sixteen-year-old Mike had the best mental toolkit for dealing with frustration. And I don't mean that as an insult—I was even less emotionally mature at that point. But I think I've gained a bit of wisdom as I've gotten older.
My experience with frustration
Learning to throw a frisbee has at times been a similarly frustrating process for me. There have been days where I just could not get my scoober to have a clean release with no wobble, no matter how hard I tried. In fact, there have been weeks where I couldn't get it right. I've practiced a throw for six weeks and ended that time feeling like I'd gotten worse. And then after a couple weeks of things seeming to be better, it would suddenly start wobbling again.
I'd get really frustrated, and sometimes I'd get stuck in a rut, mentally. Telling myself just one more throw...one more throw...I'll get it right on the next throw. Of course, it's never quite right on the next throw. Or there's one good throw, but it's followed by another bad one. And physical skills are always performed best when done in flow—overthinking the exact steps that you need to move your arm through is not going to result in your best throws.
The mental struggle can be tough. It starts with why do my scoobers suck? And then half an hour later: why do my scoobers still suck? ... I'm never going to nail this, am I? I should just give up and accept that I'll never throw this throw perfectly.
Although there's still lots of work to be done, I eventually did make it through the struggles I was having and developed throws that are much more consistent than they were a few years ago.
It's nearly impossible to be great without having to push through frustration at one point or another. Giving up and accepting mediocrity is always an option, but it's worth it to be great, and I hope I can help a few of you on your path to excellence by helping make frustration a less negative experience.
I came up with a mental technique that I find useful, which I call reframing frustration. (Some psychologist somewhere has probably already invented this too, but oh well.)
Reframing frustration
That was a whole lot of build-up for a mental tool that I can pretty much describe in one sentence:
When I notice I'm frustrated, I try to remember that frustration means I'm learning and growing.
Knowing that my feelings of frustration are also evidence of the long-term goals I value (learning, getting out of my comfort zone) helps take the edge off of frustration. Once I notice I'm frustrated, I try to remember to think to myself: hey, I'm frustrated. That means I'm learning. That means I'm on the path to making a breakthrough. That means I'm really challenging myself. I remind myself there are so many people out there who aren't frustrated—but only because they aren't challenging themselves. I'm doing something beautiful by facing the challenge of improving myself.
Thinking these thoughts when I feel frustrated has helped me a lot in taking the edge off how much feelings of frustration suck. I say "take the edge off" because it doesn't completely make my frustration disappear. Instead, it turns it from a purely negative emotion into a mixed feeling—the negative of frustration mixed with the positives of pride at my hard work and optimism that I'll break through soon. Understanding frustration in this way allows me to accept it and sit with it, patiently pushing through my struggles instead of giving up or going crazy.
Like in the movie Inside Out, the goal isn't to completely root out negative emotions but to understand and love the way they allow and encourage us to create a better future.
I wrote previously about how vulnerability is the "birthplace of...emotions and experiences that we crave". In emotionally vulnerable situations we may be scared, but encouraged knowing that taking this scary step will help us build a better future. In learning situations, frustration is the analog of that fear we feel in emotionally vulnerable situations—the pit in our stomach that comes before we make something beautiful happen.
Frustration always manages to sneak up on me. I've never found a way to not feel frustrated in the first place when I'm dealing with a situation where I'm not progressing. I'm always frustrated for a while before I actually manage to notice how frustrated I am. But once I do notice, taking a moment to reframe it and remember the positives really helps me manage it.
Rest has its place, too
Although I think the plain truth is that we sometimes need to push through frustration in order to be great, pushing through isn't always the answer.
If you're throwing so much you're changing your form due to fatigue, you won't be able to nail down the muscle memory.
But more generally, sometimes taking a break really is the answer. Focus on a different throw for a while. Or chill out and do something totally relaxing for a while. It takes time for our bodies and brains to learn and adapt. We get used to new motions and what used to feel awkward now feels comfortable. Sleeping is important to the learning process. Sometimes resting is the answer. Sometimes taking a break is the answer.
But the hard truth is that taking a break isn't always the answer. Sometimes we do need to just keep practicing. We need to hang out with our frustration, and accept it, and keep throwing until we figure out what we're doing wrong. We need to find a balance—and for me, learning how to accept some frustration has helped me keep that balance at a point where I can both successfully develop new skills and stay mentally healthy.
This final section is for the people who never think rest is the answer. The rest of this essay is for the people whose instinct, when faced with the frustration of learning a new skill, is to return to their comfort zone. (Sometimes the hardest part is knowing which one you are.) By reframing that frustration you can have a better chance of breaking through those barriers and leveling up your skills.