The Art of Mental Training - a Guide to Performance Excellence (Classic Edition)

The Art of Mental Training - a Guide to Performance Excellence (Classic Edition) by D. C. Gonzalez Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Art of Mental Training - a Guide to Performance Excellence (Classic Edition) by D. C. Gonzalez Read Free Book Online
Authors: D. C. Gonzalez
I watched the supervisory
agent and his side-kick step back inside the trailer.
    It was time to re-focus. “Let’s
go secure the crime scene.” I told our guys. And back we cautiously went into
the kill zone once again, until the tactical team and the dogs eventually
arrived and finally declared the area free of any snipers.  The shooter was
gone.
    I’d just made it back to the
command post area when Jake’s call came through from the hospital.  He let me
know that our friend had died.
    I remember how I looked at the
command post trailer and then forced myself to walk across the street to
separate myself from it.
    I remember sitting down and
leaning up against a tree in somebody’s front yard that night, as my feelings
of grief began to mix in with the anger that I felt towards the supervisor who
had flatly refused to let the rescue ambulance in.
    I remember thinking how these
feelings seemed much too potent for any man with a gun to have going through
his head.
    I remember how I used focused
breathing and Leo-tai's wisdom that night to help keep me from confronting that
supervisory agent.
    I remember thinking, and
telling myself how this wasn't over . . .
    But that for tonight—right
now,—it had to be over.
     
    Remember:  You must choose
to control anger through a decision.  For if you lose control to anger—then the
anger will surely control you.
     
    The
Art of Mental Training

Chapter 11:  On Losing
     
    (Following several months of
investigation, the shooter from the previous story was later apprehended and
convicted, the incompetent supervisory agent was forced out, and my partner
Jake received another commendation.)
    Mental athletes understand that
they can’t always control what takes place during an event.  Things don’t
always go the way we’d like, no matter however well (and however hard) we’ve
prepared.  How we deal with that reality—and how we choose to look at the
situation—always affects what lies ahead for us.
    So, even though we can’t always
control the way things unfold, at least we can always control the way we respond
to the event.  Mental warriors focus on what they can control, not on the “what
if's” or the “if only's.”  Being able to choose how one responds to an
unwelcome event is a critical skill.  It has everything to do with how well we
get on with our game—and even with our lives.
    Mental athletes know that
nobody wins all of the time.  Not in life, not in sports. When things don’t go
their way they know it’s OK to be disappointed.  What’s not OK is dwelling on
the disappointment.
    Champions keep it in perspective. 
They are able to accept responsibility and recognize the situation as a
temporary setback nothing more, nothing less.  Yes it hurts, so they look at
it, learn from it, and then let it go.  I’ve lost myself, of course.  In fact,
that was how I met Leo-tai in the first place . . .
    I was young martial artist
competing in tournaments and I’d just lost a major international
competition—worse still, one that I’d been really expecting to win.  I was
having a tough time with the loss.
    People kept telling me, “You
still did great!”—But runner-up wasn’t what I’d wanted to be.  As time went by
in response to my annoyance with myself, my training tailed off, my
determination flagged, and everything seemed either too boring or too difficult
to fuss about.  I was slacking off.
    I remember an older kid asking
me once if I had ever heard of Coach Leo.
    “I don’t think so,” I said.
“What does he teach?”
    “Mostly Shaolin—Chinese
Kickboxing, but he teaches other things too.  He really helped me once with my
training.”
    “So how’d he help then?” I
asked, interested.
    “Call him, here’s his number. 
He only teaches small classes.  Tell him you know me.”
    I carried that sheet of paper
around with me for about two weeks.  Finally I thought, “Well, what have I got
to lose? I called him and told him about

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