MENTAL HEALTH: Little Victories Matter

By Leah Granger

The first question many people ask when you say you are a pole vaulter is how do you get into that sport? Some people come from backgrounds in gymnastics, sprinting, jumping, or simply seeing the sport and realizing they are curious enough to try it. Regardless, everyone who finds this sport has something in common: they love the rush that pole vault gives them.

Every day you vault is a chance to improve. It is easy to get hooked on a sport where every inch of improvement matters. It is also easy to get down on yourself when you cannot clear that bar that is only one inch higher than what you have been clearing for the last weeks or months.

When a vaulter gets to the level of changing small things about the jump, it can be immensely frustrating. All of a sudden, this sport that looks like a run and a jump becomes a series of technical cues. When I first started analyzing my jumps, I thought it would take the fun out of the event. It took me over a year to realize how wrong I was. What it did was change the sport from an all or nothing mentality to a celebration of “pequeñas victorias” (small victories) in the words of Canadian jumper Anika Newell.

What makes a strong vaulter is someone who sees the chance to improve every day as a motivation. I have learned from my role models to come to practice with the goal of making one (often small) improvement in my jump. If it does not work at first, that should not be surprising. After hundreds of reps doing a movement, change is hard. What I do is zoom out and think with my coach and teammates of drills that simulate the specific part of the vault. For example, I am currently working on keeping my trail leg straight after takeoff. To do this I start on the floor, rolling back into a candlestick with a straight trail leg. Then, I move to the bar practicing Bubka’s with a straight leg. Then I go to straight pole drills, then short approach, and so on. The point is, it takes grueling patience and time to implement changes. If the new cue does work at a full approach, my coach tells me to do it not until I get it right, but until I cannot get it wrong. The vaulters of us know when we show up to compete it is our least practiced improvements that slip the mind first.

When I got to college, my coach had me adopt a purely cue-based way of thinking at meets. We would show up and the only thing he expected was that I would continue to follow through on the one cue I was working on that week. The height did not matter nor did the place. My first year, this was brutal. I was disappointed to see my results not improving. Over time I realized my coach was helping me build a healthy relationship with vaulting. Meets were no longer about the height, they were about continuing what I had practiced through the pressure of a competitive environment. Soon enough I was glowing with joy after a meet when I jumped a foot under my personal best because hey, my trail leg never bent!

This sport is so fun and it is impossible not to get wrapped up in the rush of clearing a high bar. What I will say is the clearance feels even better when you know you’ve done it not because you had a lucky day but because you worked so hard on the cues that you got the bar without looking for it. Here’s to the process!

Photo by Barbara Hayward