It was the night before the NCAA regional cross-country championships, and the team I coach was about to face off against the best runners in Texas, Arkansas, and Louisiana. The women’s team came in with its best ranking in over a decade, led by a strong trio of runners who wereÌęon the cusp of achieving all-region status. The only problem:Ìęsenior Meredith Sorensen was in fantastic shape but suffering from one of the worst cases of performance anxiety I’d ever seen.

Two weeks before, at the conference championship, while standing on the line awaiting the gun to go off, she turned around, puked all over the ground, then started the race. For Meredith, this was normal. She got so nervous that she couldn’t hold her food down. She finished that race in the medical tent with an IV. NowÌęshe was cleared physically to race, and I was stumped about how to help her get in a spot where she could compete up to her potential.

I met Andy Stover at a local bar the night before the race. Andy was a former collegiate distance runner, a social worker with a knack for innovative approaches, and also happened to be a groomsman in my wedding. As I relayed all of the traditional techniques I’d tried with Meredith—preparing her for discomfort, visualization, changing her mindset to see anxiety as excitement—he quipped, “Flip the script. Give her back some control.”

Seeing the puzzled look on my face, Andy continued, “If she throws up before every race, it’s become part of the routine. She expects and likely dreads it. So when it happens again and again, all while she’s trying everything she can to prevent it, her brain learns she isn’t in control. Get her to stop fighting herself. Give her back control.”

The next day, as Meredith began her warm-up, she came over and said, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Good!” I replied. “When do you want to do it?”

Her face turned from worry to puzzlement. “I don’t want to,” she said.

“I know,” I commiserated, “but it’s going to happen. So what time would you like to throw up? Should it be before your jog, after you do your drills, or maybe right before your strides? Where would you like to insert throwing up into your warm-up routine? The race starts at 10 A.M. What time should I schedule your puking for?”

The confused look on her face was still there, but she seemingly accepted andÌęwent along with it.

“At 9:45, right before I do my final strides,” she said.

Trying to appear as confident in this crazy idea as possible, I replied, “Great, 9:45 it is. I’ll set my alarm so we both know and can get it done.”

When 9:45 came, my alarm went off, and I walked over to Meredith, telling her it was time to throw up. The only problem was, she didn’t need to. For the first time in several races, no puking occurred. She wasn’t perfect or free of anxiety, but she’d wrestled back enough control that her mind was free to focus on what she was doing and not become preoccupied with the anxiety and puking to come. She went on to have the best race of her career, improving by nearly 20 places over her previous best and just missing out on a coveted all-region spot by a mere few seconds in the 20-minute race.

Whenever we face fear or anxiety, our natural inclination is to tell ourselves to ignore the pain or to relax when nerves have taken over. And more often than not, that attempt to command ourselves to change backfires. We all know this. In the history of telling someone to relax or calm down, has it ever worked?

When our attempt to control the thing backfires, our brain enters the mode of, What’s the point? or Why try? We feel that no matter what we do, we are no longer in control.

A sense of control is the glue that holds our rational brain together when we face challenging times. Without it, we spiral. When we lack control, tasks feel harder, pain feels more intense, and doubts seem louder. Our motivation plummets as we head toward apathy, hopelessness, and a lack of will to act.

It’s nearly impossible to be tough when there’s no hope of navigating your way through the current situation. And that’s the exact signal we send whenever we try to force ourselves to calm down and it inevitably doesn’t work. We aren’t in control—the anxiety is.

Flipping the script is one way we can choose to retakeÌęcontrol, so we can keep moving forward. It takes something negative and makes it mundane, something that you are choosing to experience.

Whatever the situation, notice what nudges you toward fear and avoidance. Those triggers are often a signal that we need to change the narrative. When we flip the script, we take away the power of the thing that makes us anxious. We give ourselves permission to do something we thought was negative.

“The desire for control is not something we acquire through learning, but rather, is innate, and thus likely biologically motivated. We are born to choose,” researchers Lauren Leotti, Sheena Iyengar, and Kevin Ochsner concluded in a for Trends in Cognitive Sciences. Choice allows us to take back control. It’s a kind of superpower that brings back confidence, helps us wrestle with our emotions, and allows us to learn, adapt, and grow.

Whenever you face a challenge that causesÌęanxiety and fear, consider flipping the script. Move from avoidance to acceptance, from being a prisoner of the stress to recognizing that you have the power to meet it on your terms. Often this subtle shift provides us with the freedom to perform.

Excerpted and adapted from , by Steve Magness, and reprinted with permission from HarperOne, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Copyright 2022.

The post How to Flip the Script to Take Control of Stressful Situations appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Common advice is to find and follow your passion. But it’s not so simple. You don’t just magically stumble upon the feeling and enjoy everything from there. Expecting to only sets you up for repeated disappointment. Passion needs to be cultivated and nurtured. Otherwise, what was once something you loved may start to feel like a chore, and burnout looms right around the corner. But it doesn’t have to be this way. There is a set of actionable principles that supports the kind of ongoing passion that yields not just peak performanceÌębut also a rich and fulfilling life.

As we report in our new bookÌę,Ìęnearly every top performer to whom we spoke—from star athletes like Shalane Flanagan to creative gurus like Rich Roll—shared a few common characteristics, all of which are supported byÌęemerging science on passion and performance. We’ve come to call this bundle of principles the “mastery mindset.” Adopting this mindset is key to living and performing with passion—without burning out.

Before getting to the individual traits, a few words on mastery. Mastery is a mindsetÌęand also a path. It values both acute (in the moment) and chronic (over a lifetime) engagement but devalues most of the transient stuff in between (point-in-time successes or failures). Mastery is not a New Age self-help concept. It is rooted in principles that are central to psychology and biology, and it is an ever present theme in the lives of people who embody and productively channel their passion.

Individuals who are on the path of mastery not only accomplish great things, but they do so in a healthy and sustainable manner. They exude a Zen-like aura, are resistant to burnout, and produce work that is of an incredible quality. And yet perhaps their greatest accomplishment is an even more cherished one: continual growth and development, a fulfilling life. Below are the six individual components of the mastery mindset. Keep coming back to these and make them an ongoing practice.

Drive from Within

Individuals on the path of mastery are driven from within. Their primary motivation isn’t an external measureÌęof success or fear, and it’s certainly not satisfying others or conforming to a certain peer group or social norms. Rather, their motivation originates from an internal desire to improve and engage in an activity for its own sake. This doesn’t mean that each day of their pursuit will be exciting or pleasurable. But it does mean that they will show steadfast enthusiasm about the totality of their journey.

When the majority of your motivation lies outside yourself, you become a slave to results that may not be under your control. This causes a lot of distress and is a surefire route to burning out. And yet, it’s a lot easier to sayÌę“I’ll be internally motivated” than to actually do it, especially if you start performing well and seeing positive results. There are two practices that help:

1. Regularly reflect on what you love about your work or activity—the reasons that you got into it in the first place.
2. After a tough loss or big win, give yourself 24 hours to grieve the defeat or celebrate the victory, but then get back to doing the work itself.

Focus on the Process

Goals are like steering mechanisms, North StarsÌęto shoot for. When used in this manner, they can be very productive. But too much focus on a specific goal,Ìęespecially one that’s outside your full control, almost always does more harm than good. The mastery mindsetÌęinvolves shifting your focus from achieving any one goal itself to executing on the process that gives you the best chance of more general improvement over time. Someone who embodies the mastery mindsetÌęjudges themselves based not on whether they accomplish their specific goal but rather on how well they execute on their process. After all, it is the process—not the outcome—that is within your control. And it is also the process that makes up the vast majority of one’s life. Results, good or bad, are fleeting. A goal is a direction, not a destination. Process keeps you focused and present on your journey.

Don’t Worry About Being the Best—Worry About Being the Best at Getting Better

You just learned the importance of not becoming overly attached to specific goals, but becoming attached to the ultimate goal—getting better—is an inherent part of internalizing the mastery mindsetÌęand living productively with passion. When your utmost goal is simply to get better, all failures and successes are temporary because you will forever improve, given more time and more practice. You don’t define yourself by any single moment in time; you define yourself by an entire body of work in service of ongoing growth and development. Your pursuit ceases to be something you are aiming for and becomes a part of who you are. Do you write to sell books, or are you a writer? Do you run to win marathons, or are you a runner? Do you paint to sell portraits, or are you a painter?

When you make this shift—your pursuit transitioning from a verb, something you do, to a noun, someone you are—you’re more apt to hold on to your passions for life. This isn’t to say there won’t be rough patches, disappointments, and triumphs along the way. Almost undoubtedly, there will be. But rather than serving as end points, concrete achievements and failures become more like information—markers of progress and exposures of weakness. And it is this very information that helps you improve and refine your process over the long haul.

Embrace Acute Failure for Chronic Gains

A well-known principle of physical training is this:Ìęif you want a muscle to grow, you must push it beyond its normal boundsÌęuntil it is hard, if not impossible, to perform additional repetitions. In exercise science, this is called training to fatigue. Training to fatigue isÌęeffective because muscle fatigue, or,Ìęin some cases, failure, serves as a critical signal, telling your body it must grow and adapt in order to withstand future challenges. When you fail, your body learnsÌęon an innate biological levelÌęwhat it needs to do differently. Failure sets off a cascade of changes that help you evolve so you can meet a greater challenge next time. In other words, your body can’t really grow unless it fails. This principle holds true far beyond your muscles. It’s true for everything. Along any lasting and meaningful journey, you are bound to fail. So long as you use those failures as informative opportunities to grow, that’s fine.

Be Patient

The path of mastery is almost always very hard and requires lots of time and unyielding commitment. Any long-term progression contains inevitable periods of boredom. We are hardwired to seek novelty and stimulation, which is why quick fixesÌęand hacksÌęcan be so appealing—even though they rarely, if ever, work. Advancing on the path of mastery, getting the most out of yourselfÌęand sustaining passion for a lifetime, requires patience. Ignore the hacks. Be prepared for ups and downs. Ride the wavesÌęover and over again. Be patient with yourself, and be patient with your process. Small steps taken consistently over a long period of time lead to big gains. Walking your path with others—community support—helps you navigate the ups and downs and keeps you moving forward.ÌęAnd remember:Ìęthe goal is the path, and the path is the goal.

Be Here Now

When we are fully present for whatever it is we’reÌędoing, we gain a new appreciation for our respective pursuits and our own unique role in them. Yet the majority of the time, we walk around on autopilot, not deliberately choosing where or how sharply we direct our attention. To sustain passion, however, we must remove distractions that prey on our attention and break from the mundane and automatic thoughts that normally fill our minds. Practically, this means we should set aside the time, space, and energy to give our respective passions our all. It doesn’t need to be all day, every day, but we do need to prioritize this time and make it sacred.

Deep-focused engagement is fuel for lasting passion. It seems simple and obvious, yet step back and think about just how little receives your full attention. Even activities that once forced us to be present—such as a walk or run in the woods, holding a newborn baby, or a physician’s encounter with a patient—are now frequently hijacked by the beeping and buzzing of our digital devices. These modern inventions continuously pull our attention to the next external diversion, creating the illusion that we are busy and present butÌęall the while keeping us on autopilot and at the whim of whatever distracts us next. Way too often, we may appear to be here, but we are really there. Keep coming back to here. Mastery requires you be here—really here—with what is in front of you.

This article was adapted from the new book The Passion Paradox: A Guide to Going All In, Finding Success, and Discovering the Benefits of an Unbalanced Life by Brad Stulberg and Steve Magness, published by Rodale Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House.ÌęIt is available from , , , and everywhere else books are sold.

The post 6 Principles to Crush in Life Without Burning Out appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Michael Joyner, a physician and researcher at the prestigious Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minneapolis, is one of the most productive humans alive. Joyner, an expert on physiology and human performance, has published more than 350 scientific articles, was recently named the distinguished investigator at the Mayo Clinic, and was awarded a grant through the Fulbright Scholar Program. In addition to his research, Joyner, an anesthesiologist by trade, sees patients regularly and is a mentor to countless up-and-comers, informally running what he calls “my own version of a Montessori school.” He writes for Sports Illustrated and is frequently cited as an expert in other leading publications. Joyner, who’s 58 and married with young kids, is also still a dedicated athlete himself, completing near-daily 60-to-75-minute workouts.

Joyner doesn’t have a special genetic mutation that gives him endless energy, nor does he work 12-hour days. Instead, he has deliberately designed not just his days but, really, his entire life, around eliminating distractions and extraneous decisions. For example, he protects dedicated time for deep-focus work (early in the morning, before his family rises), prepacks his gym bag and lunch with the same contents every day, and even deliberately moved to be within a 15-minute bike commute from his office. In doing so, he reserves energy and willpower for the activities that are critically important to him.

Great performers like Joyner choose where to focus their energy and protect it from everything else that could encroach upon it. This includes even seemingly simple things, like deciding what style of shirt to wear. And Joyner isn’t alone. In the reporting for our new book, , nearly every great performer weÌęspoke with developed daily routines to eliminate the trivial and maximize time spent on important things. In other words, to be a maximalist in a particular field, the world’s best are minimalists in nearly everything else. Here’s what you can learn from them.

They Avoid Decision Fatigue

At the end of 2014, in Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s first-ever public Q&A session, he was famously asked, “Why do you wear the same thing every day?” in reference to his nearly ubiquitous uniform of blue jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt.

“I really want to clear my life to make it so that I have to make as few decisions as possible about anything except how to best serve this community,” . He went on to explain that, when taken together, small decisions—like choosing what to wear—add up and can be quite tiring. “I’m in this really lucky position, where I get to wake up every day and help serve more than a billion people. And I feel like I’m not doing my job if I spend any of my energy on things that are silly or frivolous about my life,” he said.

Zuckerberg isn’t the first genius to simplify his wardrobe. Albert Einstein had a closet filled with multiple same gray suits. Steve Jobs almost exclusively wore a black mock turtleneck, blue jeans, and New Balance sneakers. that he only wears gray or blue suits. But can removing such simple choices—blue shirt or red shirt, Apple Jacks or Cheerios—really affect performance and make us more productive?

Research shows that we all have a limited reservoir of mental energy, which, over the course of a day, depletes as we use it. For example, that judges granted prisoners parole 65 percent of the time at the beginning of the day, but nearly zero percent of the time at the end of the day, succumbing to something called “decision fatigue.” As the decisions they were forced to make accumulated, the judges became mentally tired and thus had less energy to think critically about cases, opting instead for the easier default choice of no parole. Additionally, that physicians make significantly more prescribing errors later in the day. Jeffrey Linder, lead author on the study, , “The radical notion here is that doctors are people too, and we may be fatigued and make worse decisions toward the end of our clinic sessions.”

Without doubt, evaluating whether to grant parole or examining a sick patient requires a lot more thought than deciding what color shirt to wear. Nonetheless, even seemingly trivial decisions deplete us. that people who were forced to make choices among a range of consumer goods—like color of T-shirt, type of scented candle, or brand of shampoo—performed worse than those who were presented with only one option on a series of tests that covered everything from physical stamina to persistence to problem-solving. The subjects who were confronted with multiple choices also procrastinated more, researchers found, concluding that even when it comes to the simplest things, “making many decisions leaves a person in a depleted state,” impairing his performance on future activities.

This doesn’t mean that you should live on autopilot. But it does mean you should realize that you have limited energy and devote it only to things that really matter, making a routine out of just about everything that is not core to your mission.

They Take Advantage of Their Chronotype

If the first step to designing an optimal day is figuring out what to do (and, perhaps more important, what not to do), then the second step is figuring out when to do it. In his book , author Mason Currey detailed a typical day for more than 50 of the world’s greatest artists, writers, musicians, and thinkers. Not surprisingly, nearly all of them were minimalists, cutting out the trivial from their lives, and they all adhered to fairly rigid routines. But the routines themselves varied significantly. This was especially true for when they did their best work. Some, including Mozart, did their best work late into the night. Others, including Beethoven, were most productive at the crack of dawn. It’s not that these great performers did their best work at a certain time of day, or that there is an optimal hour for productivity. Rather, each individual figured out when they were most alert and focused and designed their day accordingly. Whether they knew it or not, these individuals were optimizing their day around their respective chronotypes, which describes the natural and unique ebb and flow of energy that every individual experiences over the course of 24 hours.

Scientists refer to those who are most alert in the morning as “larks” and those who are most alert in the evening as “owls.” Whether it’s a physically or cognitively demanding task, science has shown that most people tend to perform their best either in the earlier part of the day or in the later part of the day. These individual differences are rooted in our bodies’ unique biological rhythms—when various hormones associated with energy and focus are released and when our body temperatures rise and fall.

Great performers don’t fight their body’s natural rhythm; rather, they take advantage of it. They intentionally schedule their hardest and most demanding deep-focus work (or, for athletes, their workouts) during periods in which they are the most alert. When their biology shifts and they become less alert, great performers focus on tasks that, while still integral to their work, demand less attention. These tasks include things like responding to emails, scheduling meetings, or doing basic chores.

So how do you know your chronotype? You could undergo extensive longitudinal blood work and fill out multiple surveys, or you could simply ask yourself: When am I most alert, and when do I do my best work? A bit of introspection goes a long way. The hard part is acting on it.

They Choose Their Friends Wisely

In 2010, the United States Air Force Academy set out to understand why some cadets increase their fitness during their time at the academy while others do not. In a that tracked a cohort of cadets over four years, researchers found that while there was variability in fitness gains and losses across all the cadets, there was hardly any variability within squadrons, or groups of about 30 cadets to which an individual is randomly assigned prior to his freshman year.

The researchers discovered that the determining factor as to whether the 30 cadets within a squadron improved was the motivation of the least fit person in the group. If they were motivated to improve, then his enthusiasm spread and everyone improved. If, on the other hand, the least fit person was apathetic or negative, his squadron slowly adopted that sentiment, too. Just like diseases easily spread through tight-knit groups, so too does motivation.

Motivation isn’t the only emotion that is contagious. that when we see someone else express happiness or sadness, the neural networks associated with those emotions become active in our own brains. And the same goes for pain. This explains why we cry during sad movies, feel uplifted among happy friends, and cringe when we bear witness to someone in pain. In the words of Stanford University psychologist Emma Seppala, “We are wired for empathy.”

And this empathy can prompt very concrete actions and behaviors. that if one of your friends becomes obese, you are 57 percent more likely to become obese yourself. If one of your friends quits smoking cigarettes, the chances you’ll smoke decrease by 36 percent. These social influences remain surprisingly strong even in the case of second- and third-degree connections. If a friend of a friend becomes obese, your odds of gaining weight increase by 20 percent.

Many studies on behavior change and performance focus on the individual, but the makeup of one’s social circle has a huge impact on one’s own behavior, and the world’s greatest performers know this. Working to build a better self almost always means working to build a better community.

They Show Up

The best performers design their days strategically: They are minimalists in order to be maximalists; they ensure their work is in harmony with their chronotype; and they surround themselves with supportive, like-minded people. But designing the perfect day means nothing if you don’t show up for it. In the words of the writer James Clear, “The single greatest skill in any endeavor is doing the work. Not doing the work that is easy for you. Not doing the work that makes you look good. Not doing the work when you feel inspired. Just doing the work.”

The best performers are not consistently great, but they are great at being consistent. A that attitudes often follow behaviors. Great performers understand this, and, if nothing more, they make sure to at least get started on all their working days.

When drafting a novel, author Haruki Murakami designs his day with precision and adheres to a strict routine. But he’ll be the first to tell you that the routine itself is really just there to support what matters most—showing up. He’ll also be the first to tell you that showing up isn’t easy:

When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at 4 a.m. and work for 5 to 6 hours. In the afternoon, I run 4 kilometers or swim for 1,500 meters (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at 9 p.m. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind. But to hold such repetition for so long—6 months to a year—requires a good amount of mental and physical strength. In that sense, writing a novel is like survival training. Physical strength is as necessary as artistic sensitivity.

The secret of world-class performers is not the daily routines that they develop—it’s that they stick to them.

This article was excerpted from the new book by Brad Stulberg and Steve Magness, published by Rodale Books. It is available from , , , and everywhere else books are sold.

The post Four Things Top Performers Do Every Day appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.