The Super Mental Training Book (21 page)

Well, I met George Frenn, and we had these hypnosis sessions at George's house. Frenn would sit in a chair, and I'd lie on his goose down couch—really comfortable— and sprawl out. Then, Frenn would play a hypnosis record. The record would play and play, going through every muscle, telling to relax it; and I would get so relaxed. Then,

after the record ended, Frenn would start talking; he'd tell me the very same thing as the record did.

If Frenn thought I was deep, he tried to regulate my pulse rate. He would say, "Drop it! Drop your heart rate!" And it would drop right down. Then, when Frenn would start to get my aggressions going, I could notice myself grrr. He'd now quickly say, "Breathe easier, breathe easier. Relax, relax. Get back into it." And I'd go back and forth like that while listening to him.

Prior to a track meet against Washington State, Frenn had given me a bunch of hypnotic suggestions. The day of the meet I went over to George's, and as soon as I was to shake his hand, I'd be out. I would be hypnotized, and we would talk about my form and relaxation. We then went over to the track. When we got there, Frenn put me out again. He kept me under, but I knew what was going on (like we drank a Coke, ate a candy bar).

When it came time to throw, Frenn talked to me, and said, "Now, really relax with control. I want to see ten good throws—ten of the best you ever had!" So, I warmed up, and was shooting them out there. I had a couple over 200 feet, and I averaged 193 feet for the ten throws.

Steve Brown's national junior college record for the discus was 194'10", and his series while competing under the influence of Frenn's hypnotic suggestions nearly averaged that distance! Needless to say, he emerged from the competition with quite a positive opinion of hypnosis. He told me, "I advocate hypnosis. I'm all for it. I know it works. If I could teach myself self-hypnosis, it would be very beneficial for my discus throwing. I could put a percentage on that: 20-25%."

I mentioned previously the disadvantages of working with a hypnotist. One drawback is that the hypnotist may not be around when you most need him—in fact, may not be around, period. Steve Brown's hypnotist was Frenn. Unfortunately, the two had a falling out. As Brown observed, "My relationship with George Frenn has been resolved; it's just dissolved." His comment, "if I could teach myself self-hypnosis," meant therefore that he needed to learn self-hypnosis, or needed another hypnotist, if he were to continue benefitting from hypnotic suggestions.

I do not know if Steve Brown was successful with either quest; I only managed to talk with him once. However, his dilemma illustrates what can happen if you do not become self-sufficient in some mental discipline; you can find yourself way out on a limb, with the person on whom you are dependent for your mental preparation nowhere in sight. So, be your own coach, at least when it comes to your mental preparation for competition and workouts. Learn self-hypnosis, visualization, or some other mental rehearsal technique. By so doing, you will gain greater control over your athletic destiny.

Willie Banks, who in 1985 set the world record in the triple jump, enjoyed substantial control over his athletic destiny by being his own "mental coach." He did not rely on outsiders to get himself psyched-up for a meet. Instead, he used visualization, the easy-to-learn mental training strategy so many athletes have found helpful. Banks performed visualization to prepare himself for his world record jump of 58'11 1/2" set in May, 1985. We note this description the triple jumper gave the press about how he prepares himself mentally:

When I'm preparing for a meet, I'm laying in bed, going through the entire meet. Mental visualization. I go through the entire thing and I'm so into it, I'm sweating. Then I've got to take a shower. But then I don't have to think about it anymore. I just go out and do it, boom, go out and jump.

So I had already seen that I was going to jump a world record. I had seen it in my

head. I had this vision. I say it was a vision, like God said to me, "you're going to break the world record." I said, "thank you very much."[3]

Please observe that Banks did his visualization in bed. For most people one's bed is a psychological haven from all the distractions of daily life. The ordinary person usually feels very secure and at ease in his own bed. As a result, one attains a state of mind very conducive to the successful employment of self-hypnosis or visualization. This is because the element of relaxation helps make one more susceptible to suggestions; also, while in bed the person pretty much is isolated from outside disruptions. With an athlete the presence of these two favorable factors aids him in focusing his attention on what he wants to accomplish in an upcoming competition, workout, etc. Practicing visualization while in bed most assuredly worked for Willie Banks. Generalizing from this and the similar experiences of Muhammad Ali and Russ Knipp (see Boxing and Weightlifting chapters), it can be said: your own bed is an ideal location for you to conduct your favorite mental rehearsal technique.

Visualization has caught on with other track and field athletes. Rusty Knowles, a cross-country and steeplechase champion (1985-86) while attending the University of California, Irvine, incorporated the technique into his training regimen to good effect. Knowles happened to be a psychology major, which no doubt predisposed him to giving visualization a try. Working with Dr. Art Resnikoff, a sports psychologist at UC Irvine, he mastered the technique, and put it into practice. Knowles outlined to L. A. Times reporter Brian Hilderbrand his visualization routine:

What I normally do is just relax myself and concentrate on my breathing and feel myself get more relaxed. Once I'm in a relaxed state, I go over the race in my mind. I think what might happen, how I might feel, and think of the worst possible things that could happen. That way, I can see myself working through those obstacles. [4]

The 1985 cross-country season witnessed Knowles winning the Pacific Coast Athletic Association (PCAA) individual title, even though two teammates had run faster times than him before the final meet. It would be convenient to attribute this somewhat surprising result to the Irvine runner's use of visualization, except that Hilderbrand reported at the time that Knowles' "teammates consult with Dr. Art Resnikoff also, meaning that they too may have been visualization practitioners. If this were true, why did Knowles win and not his "faster" teammates? An answer is suggested by additional information contained in Hilderbrand's report. What Knowles did, which his companions might have overlooked doing, is establish early on for himself the goal of winning the PCAA individual championship in cross-country. Many sports psychologists advocate that one set bold goals before undertaking an athletic quest (see Dr. Unestahl's comments in the Recent Developments in Sports Psychology chapter). Such high-reaching goals, especially for elite athletes, provide motivation. Knowles set a bold goal for himself and, thanks to a well-conceived blend of physical and mental training, attained it.

Another cross-country champion, Lynn Jennings, employs visualization in much the same way as Knowles. Jennings, a winner of three national TAC Cross-Country Championships (1987-89), runs a big race in her mind repeatedly in the days and weeks leading up to the competition. She calls this doing "your homework." Jennings related in a 1989 issue of Runner's World magazine why she believes that practicing visualization yields positive results:

Visualization is an important part of my training. Case in point: When I learned that the 1987 TAC Cross-Country Championships were going to be held in Van Cortlandt Park, on a course I had run many times during my collegiate years, I constantly visualized racing on the Van Cortlandt course during my training runs. I knew before the race started that I was going to win, because I had been over the course so many times. It worked, and I won the race.

Mental training also helps you avoid disaster. By running through the various see-

narios that could occur in a race—losing a shoe, falling at the start—and figuring out what you would do, you'll be prepared to handle any that actually happen. You'll run more relaxed knowing you've done your homework.[5]

Los Angeles Times writer Beth Ann Krier uncovered an interesting fact about the use of visualization by U.S. decathlon champions. "In surveying the last five American gold medal winners," she stated in a 1983 article, "The Times learned that only one of them, Bob Mathias, who won the gold medal in 1948 and 1952, did not recall using visualization to perfect his performance."[6] The other four apparently learned and employed the technique on their own. For example, Krier informs us that "Bruce Jenner, the 1976 gold medal winner in the decathlon, says he has never had any formal psychological or psychiatric assistance. But Jenner says that he always 'went through visually in my head how far to throw the discus, how fast to run' and incorporated these visualizations or mental rehearsals into his workouts." Krier sums up the situation typified by Jenner's remarks this way: "It seems many Olympic athletes intuitively develop skills and training regimes advocated by psychologists without even knowing that they are doing so."

What these decathlon champions have done is fine, and who can argue with gold medal winners. But, there are better ways of going about learning and applying visualization than developing a homemade approach for oneself. San Jose State sports psychologist Bruce Ogilvie decries the self-concocted approach, and told Krier that "most great athletes do visualization or what I call visual motor rehearsal on their own. But they do it sloppily. Perfection is a ritual. We rehearse and rehearse and rehearse our athletes so that you could shoot a cannon off and they would still perform well."

When you practice visualization, your eyes should be closed and you already should be in a relaxed state; this generally enhances the technique's effectiveness. Sloppily executed visualization sessions, which Dr. Ogilvie says great athletes often unwittingly perform, contain one or more of these characteristics: 1) the athlete's eyes are open; 2) the athlete has not reached a sufficiently relaxed state; 3) the session lasts 2 minutes or less, instead of 10-15 minutes; 4) the visualized task is not vividly pictured or felt. Avoid these deficiencies, if possible, when practicing visualization.

Ed Burke, a three-time national champion in the hammer throw, met Dr. Ogilvie during his sophomore year at San Jose State; this as reported in the L. A. Times. According to Burke, Dr. Ogilvie "was instrumental in my breaking up through the ranks and making the (1968) Olympic team. Talking with him, I developed great insights into what was holding me back. He'd guide your thinking, and then, pretty soon, you'd be telling him what was holding you back."[7] Precisely how the sports psychologist guided Burke's thinking, we are not told; however, it would be logical to assume that the hammer thrower started using visualization at this time. Burke went on to set an American record, throwing the hammer 235 f H" on June 22, 1967. He then retired from the sport after the '68 Olympics, but decided 12 years later to make a comeback after seeing a superior new throwing technique developed by the Soviets. In 1983, one year before the '84 Olympic Trials, Burke described how he was incorporating visualization into this workouts:

I'll sometimes sit down and wait 5 to 10 minutes between throws. I won't throw until I can first see the throw in my mind and feel it. After every throw, I write down what I felt, how far it went, any mental images I had and anything else that went on. I also learned how to breathe from the lower part of the stomach. Breathing up from the chest tightens you up. A lot of guys don't know that. [8]

Burke practiced both external imagery (seeing the throw) and internal imagery (feeling the throw), as well as stomach breathing (sometimes called deep breathing); the stomach breathing is meant to relax and energize oneself. Another thing the hammer thrower did was perform visualization during his once-a-week massage session:

At least most of that hour I'm mentally throwing. I'm deep breathing and deepening the relaxation. That's really a secret weapon I have.[9]

The physical and technical portions of Burke's daily regimen consisted of 2 1/2 hours of weightlifting, plus four hours of throwing. One can immediately see why mental training strategies such as visualization and deep breathing were called for: the workload was incredibly demanding. To avoid burnout, Burke resorted to a few mental "secret weapons," and profited from their use. At age 44, seventeen years after setting his American record, Ed Burke participated in the 1984 Olympics. He threw 221 f 6" in the Games, fourteen feet less than his old hammer throw record, and did not qualify for the finals. But, Burke's toss was the longest ever made by a 44-year-old in Olympic history, showing clearly the value of a combined mental and physical training program.

Although you should learn and regularly practice the mental discipline of your choice, it merits mentioning that some people have gotten by on much less. For example, there have been instances where an athlete has been hypnotized just once, and that one hypnosis session was all it took to permanently change the athlete's fortunes for the better. This is exactly what happened to Bill Toomey, the great decathlon champion and 1968 gold medalist. Toomey set a world record in the decathlon on December 10-11, 1969, scoring 8417 points. He had been trying to break the world record for a long time, but it was not until shortly after a hypnosis session with hypnotist Arthur Ellen that he accomplished his goal. The hypnosis session took place in late 1969 at Har-rah's Club in Lake Tahoe. Toomey was there with Barry King, the British decathlon champion, and some other friends. I interviewed Toomey on November 21, 1979, and he discussed the incident:

We were in one of the side showrooms, and Arthur Ellen was doing his hypnosis performance. It was a pretty good act, with numbers and memory demonstrations. It occurred to me during the show that what Ellen was doing might relate to my sport. So, I wrote a note to Ellen, asking if I could meet him. He replied sure, and Barry King and I went to see him the next day in his hotel room.

At first there were a lot of people in the room. The hypnosis didn't work too well when all the people were there; it was like, "Gee, I better act like I'm hypnotized." Then, all the people left. I soon felt that something was happening. It wasn't that radical.

Toomey's most troublesome event in the decathlon had been the pole vault. Bill always had problems clearing the opening height. It turns out a mental block was responsible. As a boy, Toomey's right hand had been paralyzed, though it had not bothered him since he was 12 years old. Ellen helped Toomey realize that subconsciously he was disturbed by memories of his hand. He recalled:

We started talking, and then it came out. As soon as I said it, I said, "Jeez, that's amazing. It's true!" I was missing the opening height twice in a row just to show people that I had something wrong, but I never told anybody about my hand. I wanted to let people know that I could lose, but then I really didn't want to lose. It's funny, because after that [the hypnosis session with Ellen] I really liked the pole vault.

Despite the fact that one hypnosis session might lead to permanent improvement in your athletic performances, you should still learn self-hypnosis; the main reason for doing this is to free yourself from the inconveniences of working with a hypnotist (once you conclude the "permanent" improvement has only been temporary). Toomey neglected to do this. As a result, when he wanted Ellen to hypnotize him on another occasion, prior to a USA-USSR track meet, he experienced first-hand why it is inadvisable to expose yourself to the mercy of outside circumstances. Toomey relates what occurred:

Ellen tried to get out onto the field one time during the Russian dual meet. The officials threw him off the field, and some newspaper reporter commented that "the world missed its first Toomey 16 foot vault." Ellen was at the competition, and I was going to go over and let him do a number on me. But, the officials wouldn't let him come out; they decided they didn't want to have any extra people out on the field. [10]

If Toomey had previously mastered self-hypnosis, he would have been able to give himself hypnotic suggestions on the spot. The officials would not have intervened because Toomey was a competitor and was therefore allowed on the field. He could "psych-up" and no one would have hassled him. Self-hypnosis is convenient to use and is virtually fail-safe from external interferences one sometimes encounters. Learn from Toomey's mistake. Acquire the self-hypnosis capability.

The ninja of feudal Japan well appreciated the advantages of possessing the self-hypnosis capability. The ninja, Dr. Thomas J. Nardi tells us in & Hypnosis Quarterly article, "were experts in the nefarious arts of espionage. From early childhood these men and women underwent physical and mental training that far surpassed that of the ordinary warrior."[ll] Apparently, the ninja's mental training consisted of learning self-hypnosis and its practical applications, as well as how to instantly hypnotize others. Notes Dr. Nardi, "It is reported that ninja could remain completely motionless for hours at a time, walk/run 350 miles in three days, and endure long periods of extreme cold, thirst, and hunger. All of this would be possible only if self-hypnosis was incorporated into their training."[12] Being able to cover by foot 350 miles in three days indicates how much self-hypnosis might be able to help long-distance runners. For the ninja, however, such an exploit was of secondary importance. They were most concerned with escaping physical danger if they were detected and cornered while carrying out a mission. By preprogramming themselves to use a form of hypnosis on their pursuers, the ninja were able to "vanish." If one can successfully use hypnosis on a hostile pursuer, does not this suggest that the tactic might also work against one's athletic opponent? The reader might wish to refer to Dr. Nardi's article as it reaffirms the value of gamesmanship and the 5 P's (Pre-Planning Prevents Poor Performance).

In the days before the Chinese communists annexed Tibet and destroyed the natural order, selected Tibetan monks were trained to run enormous distances. Much like the ninja of feudal Japan, the monks would cover these long distances in an astonishingly short period of time. According to Pat Tarnawsky, who reported in Runner's World the observations of Tibetan scholar Alexandra David-Neel, the long-distance running by the monks "has its root in a rite called dubthab, which was held every 12 years. The idea was to round up all the demons in Tibet and persuade them en masse not to demand human sacrifices."[13] The monk chosen to round up all the demons was trained in the art of lung-gom, which David-Neel defines as "a large number of practices which combine mental concentration and various breathing gymnastics and aim at different results, either spiritual or physical." The physical results were simply awesome, as Tarnawsky notes:

The runner selected for the roundup, a specially trained monk, was called the Maheketang. He would set out from the great monastery of Shalu on Nov. 11, run to Lhasa and several other cities, and be back in Shalu on Nov. 25. Then he would immediately set out again on the second, and longest, leg of his run. Going via Shigatze, he would make a huge tour through the Chang Tang highlands in northern Tibet, returning to Shalu a month later. He was running in winter, mind you, with only light monastic robes, non-stop between cities, no eating or sleeping on the way.

One monk covered more than 300 miles in 30 hours, nonstop... This would make about 11 1/2 2:37 marathons at once, or three consecutive 10-hour 100-milers (the current world 100-mile best is 11 hours 53 minutes). Obviously, something more than mileage and speedwork goes into this kind of performance. . .