The art of showing up
In his book Atomic Habits, the author James Clear sets out a suite of tools to build good habits and break bad ones.
There are some excellent tips and thoughtful ideas in the book. It's well worth a read. James is the first to acknowledge that he is reframing existing concepts. But he brings an interesting new twist to many of them.
As a coach, one chapter in particular piqued my interest. Clear talks about the process of mastering a skill. One of the central pillars of this is something he calls 'the art of showing up'. By this, he means the ability to habitualise a learning process. To get after it, session after session, day after day.
Boxing training — in particular, skill drilling — is not for everyone. The end goal of boxing drills is to make a series of actions automatic, so the boxer can perform them in a split second. Achieving this is a hard road of repetition and constant refinement. It involves hours of repeating the same drill over and over. There is no short cut. Repetition is the key to mastery.
I call this mitigating the boredom. It takes an iron constitution to commit to this. The first step is showing up. Holding yourself to account — to show up to train — is the glue that holds the process together.
From experience, I've discovered many people can't sustain this over a prolonged period. In the modern world there is always a shiny, new object. There is always a new fad. Today's attention economy is a crowded marketplace.
My coach often said that many successful boxers were the ones that hung around long enough. A lot of elite boxers have fashioned stellar careers through sheer force of will. By staying the course and avoiding distraction, they have accentuated their skills.
Hall of Fame Light Heavyweight Archie Moore boxed into his 50s. Moore was a sublime talent. The 'Old Mongoose' is one of the greatest to ever lace them up. But he credited his longevity to the constant search for improvement.
For a more recent example, Bernard Hopkins was schooling much younger men in his late 40s. Hopkins is a prime example of squeezing the last drop out of his abilities and opportunities.
Both men shared an iron determination to perfect skills they'd practiced for decades.
A commitment to mastery is a labour of love for the recreational boxer. The vast majority of people I train will never have a competitive bout. They come along to enjoy the sport and the challenge of learning a new skill. There is no night of glory and affirmation under the ring lights ahead for them. The many hours of hard work they put in goes largely unrecognised.
It's for that reason I have the utmost respect for these people. They are warriors as much as a competitive fighter. They do battle against themselves every session. They mitigate the boredom to better themselves without obvious recognition.
So, to everyone who masters the art of showing up, I for one, salute you.
Sources
Clear, James. (2018). Atomic Habits.
