How your skiing comes back to you each year
It can seem like a miracle, can't it?
We put our skis and boots away for the summer, and when we put them back on the following winter, the old skills reveal themselves. They are still there.
Thank goodness!
Sometimes it's described as ‘… just like riding a bike.’ Metaphorically, of course. But what does that mean, exactly?
How does our body conserve previously acquired skills and the allow us to access them months later?
These days, the science is clear.
It's not “muscle memory”, although you can choose to call it that, as long as you mean:
A network of neural pathways
Patterns of synaptic connections in various parts of the brain
The autonomous nervous system, as a whole
Coordinated movement patterns, memories of which are deeply embedded in neurons, nerve pathways, muscle groups…
And so on
Much of the training that we do, on Performance Breakthrough clinics, is about activating these systems, so that effective skiing performance is embedded deep inside us - ready for deployment - instantly, or months later..
There is a description of this process here, in one of my earlier posts.
Of course, it's not entirely straightforward. That's why we make sure to use the activation process at the beginning of each session. This process allows your existing skills to surface and become connected to you, the environment, and your performance. There's more about the activation process here.
The ‘riding a bike’ metaphor is highly suitable - we all know how that works. It's particularly applicable to me, as I spend quite a bit of time on my bikes through the off-season, mainly for fun and also as part of my physical conditioning for the winter.
I had a recent example of this process, in a very different activity.
I play guitar and have done for almost 50 years. Way back in the early days, I learned a simple classical piece. It was a laborious process, from musical notation on the page, through to clumsy beginner attempts at performance, eventually through to a more or less reasonable intermediate performance - though my fingers were not really doing what I hoped they would. Fluency and ease still eluded me.
Eventually, I stopped playing the piece and I forgot all about it.
For almost 50 years.
Then, earlier this summer, while I was appreciating the tonal characteristics of a particularly fine acoustic guitar, I was experimenting with some simple melodies to bring out the rich harmonics of the instrument.
I was using a version of the activation process.
And then, a short, partial phrase came out of the guitar. It was familiar but I couldn't place it initially.
Over the next 10 days or so, I kept revisiting this activation process, and miraculously, more and more of the piece revealed itself.
Importantly, I did not think about it.
The conscious mind is not the orchestrator of these complex, autonomous processes.
Eventually, the whole piece presented itself, as neural pathways and synaptic patterns, laid down five decades previously, re-emerged.
And as a bonus, my fingers behave themselves rather better these days. It's almost as if the piece was waiting for me to learn to play well enough, before showing itself again.
I've attached a recording of the piece here, because it would be rude not to, having used it as an example.
I’ve included an intro and outro that are not part of the original. They derive from the the activation processes I was using. You’ll hear how they relate to the central, original, piece and perhaps you can infer how they helped to unearth the original.
You’ll also hear the secondary harmonics of that instrument sing out - which is what drew me into the process in the first place.
In the same way, the sensations produced by skiing on excellent snow draw me into the ways my skis are steering, the curve shapes produced and how I am reacting to the forces generated.
The activation process at work.
The original etude may be by Carulli - I really can’t be sure.
It's interesting to me that the autonomous system can remember all the details of the performance, but my conscious mind cannot remember the name of the composer with any certainty.
Our autonomous systems truly are miraculous.
Just like riding a bike.
Just like your skiing performance.