Confidence is Overrated: Chapter 1 "Run at the Storm"

Confidence is overrated by Travis Thomas. That's me, an informal reading. Chapter 1, Run at the Storm. A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are made for. John A. Shedd. For 3 years, from January 2020 through the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar, I was the leadership and team dynamics coach for the United States Men's National Soccer Team. During those 3 years, whenever the team was together, I was there. Remember, soccer was my childhood passion. As a kid, I didn't even dream of playing for the national team. No way. But I rarely missed a game. To me, there is nothing greater than the FIFA World Cup tournament. As a 12-year-old, I remember watching Diego Maradona steal the show And England's spirit during the 1986 World Cup. Then in 1990, after a 40-year stretch of not qualifying for the World Cup, the United States were back in it. A mixture of young professionals and college players scraped their way back onto the world stage. Then in 1994, the World Cup took place in the United States, and there I was in Pontiac, Michigan, Watching the United States versus Switzerland in the first ever World Cup match played indoors. And on it went. Every 4 years, the World Cup created a month-long global holiday. No matter where I was living or the work I was doing, everything took a backseat for those 30 days. In short, I'm a big fan. So there I was for 3 years getting a seat at the table as a member of the coaching staff. for the US Men's National Team. It was filled with endless pinch-me moments where I would ask myself, what am I doing here? My job as the leadership and team dynamics coach meant that I wore a few different hats. I'm a performance coach that specializes in mindset and leadership training, as well as team and organizational culture. I'm not a sports psychologist or therapist, but I've spent many years helping and coaching individuals and teams Based on my extensive background in personal development and performance. Greg Berhalter, the US men's head coach, wanted me to lead mental skills and leadership sessions with the team, be available to help players one-on-one, oversee the team culture to make sure we were being intentional and consistent to our mission, vision, and values, as well as facilitating team-building activities. Greg valued my flexibility and adaptivity as I worked with the players, Skills I honed in my 20-plus years of experience as an improvisational actor and speaker. I wrote about the power of improvisation for mental performance and day-to-day life in another book called 3 Words for Getting Unstuck: Live Yes, And. It's available on Amazon. It's also the reason I got the job with the men's national team in the first place. More on that later. Like I said, I was wearing lots of hats in my duties with the national team. Being at every training, in the locker room, team meals, and every team function allowed me to deeply embed myself in the cultural belly of the team. It gave me the opportunity to build trust, respect, and value with the players and staff because I was with them all the time. When it comes to fostering healthy relationships, research has proven that it is all about psychological safety. Trust, respect, and value. Without it, building any type of relationship or team that can withstand adversity won't be sustainable. Whether you prefer the biblical parable of a house built on sand or reflecting on your own personal experiences where there is a lack of trust as a foundation, neither of them can withstand a storm. Speaking of storms, it's the focus of this chapter. And a key idea during a crucial moment for the team. I was speaking to the team before a string of crucial matches early in my tenure. They hadn't played together much, and they didn't have the success as a national team compared to what many of them had already achieved individually with their club teams. We knew going into these matches that we had to be at our best. For this particular session, we talked through all the possible challenges we might encounter. It wasn't a matter of if these things would happen, but rather how we would respond to them if they did occur. Instead of hoping bad things didn't happen, we came up with a mental plan for what actions we would take in response. The players chimed in and mentioned challenges and distractions such as bad calls, unlucky bounces, injuries, hostile fans, and a chaotic environment. As well as the weather, the playing field, etc. Once we listed all the potential distractions, we talked through how we would regroup and respond to each one. By doing this, we gave ourselves permission to talk through the negative events. It took away some of the fear and superstition of the what-if thoughts by formulating solutions. The unknown is less scary when you problem-solve different scenarios. Take away the mystery of uncertainty, and what you are left with is a plan. I ended the team talk by sharing a story I had heard years earlier regarding how different animals handle storms. Picture this: you're in the prairies of Colorado, and in the distance on the horizon, you see thunderstorms rolling in. The clouds are approaching fast. The storm is coming. If you're a cow, You see the storm coming. You probably do one of two things. One, you either lie down and take the beating, or two, you start running in the opposite direction, which means the storm's gonna catch up with you, run with you. You're actually gonna take a beating longer than if you had just stopped in the first place. So running away from the storm actually makes the storm worse. But there's another animal, the buffalo. If you're the buffalo in the field, as you see the storm approaching, you don't lie down. You don't run in the opposite direction. You turn and face the storm and you run directly at it. You understand, or excuse me, you understorm. That's, that's fun, fun word, understorm. You understand that the storm is inevitable. It's here. You can lie down and surrender, run away, or you can face the adversity and run to meet it. In the process of running at the storm, despite getting hit and feeling the impact of the storm, you move through it and to the other side more quickly. You don't avoid the challenge, you attack it head-on. You may have heard this analogy yourself, but it has always stuck with me. I think back to difficult times in my life, especially as a scared child, and I was constantly running away from storms. When things felt too physically difficult or strenuous, I would tap out. I'd run in the other direction. As an adult, there is still the temptation to avoid things that makes me uncomfortable. We all have things that challenge us, big and small. When those storms come at us, how do we respond? And that was the message I shared to end my team talk. We knew the games in front of us would provide numerous storms to handle. And when confronted with them, we had a plan of how to respond. Regardless of what happens, the message to the team was simple: run at the storm. Hmm. Like we anticipated, the games were not easy. The environments were hostile. Anytime one of our players was near the sideline, they would get pelted with debris from the opposing fans. Flying beer. Stadium concessions aren't cheap, let alone the price for a 20-ounce beer. And anytime the opposing fans were upset with the call or had one of our players in throwing distance or were celebrating a goal for their team, the beer flew. Trust me, my, uh, family was in the stands. They had some beer tossed on them. In one of the most important matches, one of our players had a rough game. He made a crucial mistake early in the game, battled throughout, and then made another crucial mistake later in the game. That could have cost us the win, but it didn't. Despite every possible thing going wrong, every adversity we anticipated, storm after storm, our guys prevailed. This was a massive win and accomplishment for the team. It was a time for celebration. The win capped— excuse me— the win capped a momentous achievement for the group. Yet after we Celebrated, we had to turn around and immediately hop on a plane to play another game 3 days later. At training the next day, the players arrived and started getting ready for the session. There was positive energy all around, and you could feel the joy pulsing through the group. My normal routine with the players before training was to welcome them, share some small talk, while also giving them their space as they mentally prepared. The players were all smiles, playful, and bouncing around. Except one. I could see him walking up to his cleats, and unlike his teammates, there wasn't any joy in his step. This was the player who played poorly and struggled in the game. Even though the team won and celebrated, he sat alone and quiet. His social media was filled with mean, hateful, and racist remarks. All of us had bad days and made mistakes. Excuse me. All of us have had bad days and made mistakes, but most of us can't relate to our worst day in front of an audience of millions. I know I can't. I slowly worked my way toward him, respecting his space. As I approached, I could feel he wanted to say something. He bent down to tie his cleats, and without looking up, he quietly said to me, Hey Travis, running at the storm is really hard. Silence. Running at the storm is hard. The pain, frustration, and helplessness in his simple statement hit me hard. What I failed to convey in the message of running at the storm is that it doesn't guarantee success. At least not in the way we would outline it. All it means is we are willing to face the storm and take it head on. The outcome is not up to us. After a few moments, I squatted down to his level. I began to reflect back to him how he played the entire game, how he fought, battled, and competed. After the early mistake, he kept playing. And battling. He didn't hide. He didn't quit. The coaches still had belief in him and they left him out there to do his best. The game went back and forth, blow after blow, moment after moment. And in all of this, he was fighting. It wasn't his best game and mistakes were made, but through it all, he did everything he could. He just kept playing. He never stopped running at the storm. Until the storm was done. I looked him in the eye and told him that running at the storm is hard. It's not about controlling the outcome or result. It's only about our willingness to face the challenge, run at it, and do our best. It's about being courageous when things aren't going well. And that is exactly what he did for the entire game. He thanked me. We hugged. He went and joined his teammates on the field for training. It's now been a few years since that moment, and I'm happy to report he's still running at storms. Running at the storm is hard. The only guarantee afforded to us by choosing to run at storms is that we are— is that we will be stronger, wiser, and better as a result. What it doesn't mean is that we will win every game we play, achieve every goal we set. And accomplish every outcome we desire. It does not mean that at all. In fact, odds are things will not go as planned more often than they do. Running at the storm is not about control. It's about commitment. It's courage in action. The storms in our life represent any challenge set before us. A weakness we need to improve, a skill we need to develop, a diagnosis we need to face, a relationship we need to address, a setback we need to accept. They are all storms. The question then is simply whether we have the courage to face it, accept it, move towards it, and respond. If we do this consistently, we will start to believe that we can do hard things. The growth on the other side of the storm might not be the growth we were hoping for, but it will be growth nonetheless. In fact, my experience has taught me that the growth we receive from running at storms is often far better and bigger than what we could have imagined in the first place. You cannot come out on the other side of the storm without being transformed. Courage is our willingness to face the challenge without knowing What lies on the other side. The only way to find out what is waiting for us on the other side is to run at the storm. So here's your chapter 1 reflection questions. Number 1, can you remember a time when you ran away from a challenge in your life? What happened? How did you feel? Number 2, think of a time you forced yourself to go through a difficult situation despite your fears. What did you learn? And 3, is there a storm you are facing right now? What is one small step you can take today and approach it head on? Emphasis on one small step. That concludes chapter 2. We'll see you at chapter 3.