I’m just in the middle of reading a book on what is for me personally a very important subject: introversion. The book is called > Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking and is written by Susan Cain. Cain is a graduate of Princeton and Harvard Law School.
About two years ago I accidentally learned that I am quite an introvert. I had been in an all day professional development course and at the end the trainer “did our colours” – an exercise where you are categorized according to your traits and interests and pursuits. I can’t remember what colour I ended up being but what I will never forget is what I learned when at the beginning of the exercise the trainer had us do > the Meyers-Briggs test. On that test I ended up scoring off-the-charts for introversion.
I was really surprised at the time. And I’m sure that some people who know me today would be surprised – given how active and outgoing I can at times seem. However, when I looked back at the questions and my answers, it all made sense. Being active and outgoing has always been difficult and perhaps even painful for me. I’ve done it I think to have a normal and stable life in the “real world” but I realize now why my life seems so difficult and wrong at times. I really am that guy in Meyers-Briggs who is thought oriented versus being action oriented, who seeks depth of knowledge and influence versus seeking breadth of knowledge and influence, who prefers more substantial interaction versus more frequent interaction and who recharges and gets energy from spending time alone versus getting energy from spending time with people.
I really am introvert and I’ve known this now for as I said about two years. That’s why I was excited when I heard about the release of Susan Cain’s Quiet.
There is a lot I could discuss already 80 pages into the 300 page book, however what prompted this post was not my introversion but a short section of the book devoted to practice.
Every kid who has ever kicked or thrown a ball, or tried to run fast, jump high, or long, has heard their coach or their parent at one time say: “Practice makes perfect!”
In recent years too has emerged the more accurate statement: “Practice makes permanent”. In other words the quality of the practice matters more than just practicing frequently.
As an emerging young soccer player all those years ago (I’m 46 now), I was very, very good at practice. In hindsight, I was maybe better at practice than in a game. Maybe it’s practice – and how hard I would work, how well I would focus, how coachable I was – that enabled me to become a university soccer star and a professional player and then a coach.
I can remember when I got the soccer bug at around the age of 15 and along with that also took on that beautiful dream of “making it” that never stopped glowing in my mind like a really strong drug like maybe heroin or something. I was so hooked that every day I’d come home, finish up my homework and go into my backyard to dribble the ball, juggle it, shoot it. Day after day, I would do this, alone. Homework alone. Practice alone – and “then” I’d go off to soccer practice later in the evening. Can’t tell you how many days and hours went into that solitary training.
I can remember really loving the solitude in and of itself – I was an introvert after all : ) – but I also truly believed that that little bit of extra training I was doing was going to make a difference, that that training was going to help me “make it”.
In Quiet, Susan Cain references the research psychologist Anders Ericsson, who has tried to figure out how extraordinary achievers in pursuits as varied as chess, tennis and classical piano get to be so great at what they do. Cain hones in on one of Ericsson’s most interesting findings. In studying a group of the best violinists at an elite music academy in West Berlin, he discovered that out of three groups studied, the two best of the best groups spent most of their time practicing in solitude. Moreover, when questioned, the best of the best violinists rated practice alone “as the most important of all their music-related activities”.
You might say that that’s music and not sport. You might say that in sport you just cannot do all of your training alone. But Cain says: “Even elite athletes in team sports often spend unusual amounts of time in solitary practice.”
Even elite athletes. And guess why?
Cain quotes Ericsson, who says it’s about something called “Deliberate Practice”:
“What’s so magical about solitude? In many fields, Ericsson told me, it’s only when you’re alone that you can engage in Deliberate Practice, which he has identified as the key to exceptional achievement. When you practice deliberately, you identify the tasks or knowledge that are just out of your reach, strive to upgrade your performance, monitor your progress, and revise accordingly.”
And here’s the part I really love:
“Deliberate Practice is best conducted alone for several reasons. It takes intense concentration and other people can be distracting. It requires deep motivation, often self-generated. But most important, it involves working on the task that’s most challenging to you personally.”
Amen. That was me – the teenage soccer dreamer: intense concentration, deep motivation, working and working on what I felt I needed to do to “make it” at soccer: dribbling, juggling, shooting.
The thought of those days – as I write this – makes me feel a longing for something I feel I’ve lost.
It was such a beautiful time – that sweet solitary journey toward being the best.
I got pretty far down that road – some individual awards, playing pro. I did a lot of it on my own.
But – going back to my introversion – it turned out that being an introvert didn’t make me a very good captain when I was chosen and it was also problematic being a coach when most people expect a coach to be loud and active.
I wished I’d known then – when I was named captain of a pro team or chosen to coach a big team, that my default mode was interior and not exterior. Maybe I could have done better in those roles. Maybe I could have been the best. As it was – I walked away.
Is there room for introverts at the top of the sporting pyramid?
I think so.
It’s perhaps just a matter of knowing who you actually are and then finding a way to make it work for you. After all – if a player can be aided by solitude, then why not the leaders in sport?
I suppose it’s not too late for me – in life that is. I kind of feel like my moment to be a leader in my sport has passed. But I will tell you that this former player and coach feels a whole lot better knowing exactly what type of person he is.
Two years since that Myers-Briggs test and the pain and discomfort are less and manageable.
I’m a better player at life.
I’m making sure that I give myself the solitude that I need – by doing things like reading (which recharges me) and writing (which allows me to try to master something in depth) and a host of other things that those strange introverts just love to do.
And if you don’t happen to be a strange introvert like me – don’t forget to take note of some of the positives mentioned above as being beneficial to high performance.
If you’re in fact an extrovert – take a page out of the introverts book – and indulge in a little solitude. It might make you better at whatever it is you love to do.
