“More is better!” 

False. 

And I will tell you why…

Sophomore year of college was the year I worked my tail off. I just came out of my freshmen diving season hungry to qualify for nationals after missing advancing into nationals by two places. Two places in diving can be the difference in less than half a point. Talk about a heartbreak. 

My goal this season was to become an All-American (1) in one of my events (In the NCAA, athletes who place in the top-8 in their event are considered an “All-American”). 

Myth 

In order to reach this goal, I believed I had to do more than I did the year before right? Lifting more, doing that extra dive, coming in before practice for extra conditioning, staying late to do extra reps. Train like no one was watching type of mindset.

I truly believed that more was better and working harder would equate to success. Fast forward to the end of the season at Conference Championships. My first board and favorite board, 1-meter, did not go well. I was first going into finals, and I was too amped up.

So amped up that I choked… I failed my last dive and took third. I was mortified… Never did I imagine that I would truly flop, smack the warner, and receive 0’s from all judges in a championship competition, but here we are. 

Despite that being my most embarrassing performance of my entire life, I was determined to win 3-meter for redemption.

Two days later into the competition, I competed in 3-meter preliminaries and put myself in a great place going into finals. Although I hit most of my dives, my body felt off after prelims. My muscles were tense, my neck started to ache, and I began feeling tingling sensations throughout my hands and feet. How weird.

Uncomfortable, but not unbearable to the point where I couldn’t compete. I thought to myself, “today is for redemption.” I was not going to let some aches or pains take away from my redeeming myself. 

As soon as the 3-meter finals began, everything started clicking. I entered a flow state (2). Time didn’t exist, every move felt effortless, and I felt as if I was floating throughout my performance. I was confident and in flow, contributing to redeeming myself for a first-place finish on 3-meter.

I was on cloud nine after competing 3-meter. I thought to myself if I could come back after the most embarrassing performance of my life, then I can overcome anything that comes my way at the NCAAs in the next couple of weeks. 

Cloud nine slowly faded away, once the adrenaline wore off. There was something significantly wrong with my body. I could hardly put my head down or bend over without my legs tingly to my feet and my arms tingling to my fingers. It truly felt like there was electricity running throughout my body. I was scared.

I went from feeling so strong, to so weak in a matter of minutes. I didn’t let doubts come in just yet because I had three weeks before NCAAs. I thought to myself, “This is my comeback year!” I did put in all of that extra training to rise to the occasion this season. 

All I could think about was getting back to the water and training harder than ever for the next 3 weeks to compete in Alabama at NCAAs. Little did I know that I would not step on a diving board for the next 7 months.

Reality of Overtraining

Fast forward two weeks after Conference Championships, two MRI’s later, many doctors’ appointments, receiving a second opinion, and many missed classes. It was discovered that I had a herniated disc in my lower back, and a bulged disc in my neck that was hitting my spinal cord, explaining the painful tingly sensations down my arms and my legs. 

The news was devastating. I was crushed. I was scared…. I learned that my back was inoperable due to the location of the herniation. I was tripping a lot, and I was losing strength in my toes, I was absolutely terrified.  

Doctors informed me due to overtraining; I most likely missed the warning signs my body was signaling me. How could this be? Aren’t elite athletes supposed to train hard, do more, and train like no one is watching. 

Yes. However, elite athletes are also supposed to rest and recover. Man, I was mistaken

Deliberate Practice

For the next 4 to 5 months, my new practice schedule became spinal decompression treatment, physical therapy, and very minor spinal adjustments 4 to 5 days a week. My physical therapist became my “coach.” 

Throughout physical therapy, I learned that doing more is not always better. 

I learned that working harder and longer hours does not equate to success. In physical therapy, I was taught 1% each day (3) led to a slow upward recovery. At the time 1% did not feel like a lot, but 1% after 120 days of focused training became a lot. 

Although 1% does not seem notable, it is necessary for long-term success. 

Eventually, I regained my strength, the tingling subsided, and I was no longer tripping due to droopy toes. Now that was a victory. 

Once I “graduated” from physical therapy, I did not begin diving again until the start of junior season. A total of 7 months passed before I was cleared and comfortable to jump on a diving board again.

My training guidelines were very different this season. I was only allowed to get in the water 3 days a week for an hour and a half of practice. That equated to 8-10 hours of training compared to the 20 hours (and some) I put in weekly last season. 

I was not allowed to lift weights, jump on the trampoline for dryland, or do extra conditioning before or after practice. Although my training schedule significantly changed, my ultimate goal of becoming an All-American did not. 

I had to make the most of every minute. I learned the value of deliberate practice. Doing more was no longer better. Doing better is better. Being focused on every dive is better. Putting my mind to muscle is better. Using mental skills like imagery is better. Rest and recovery is better.

I finished that year becoming an All American on both boards. Not because I trained physically harder or longer than anyone else, but because I trained more intentionally.

This story is not about performing well and coming back stronger. It is about trusting the process and focusing on being better 1% every day. 

I truly believe I would not have made it through the season if it wasn’t for the lessons I learned in physical therapy – Doing more is not better, working intentionally is better.