Most coaches and competitive athletes follow a similar pattern: Plan, Execute, Adapt. They do this over and over again as each new opponent shows up on the schedule. The planning phase can differ in its complexity, depending on whether it’s a team or individual sport, the level of play (Youth, High School, College, Pro) and so on. If you’re a fan, as I am, of the NFL playoffs, you know that the coaching staff and players are spending vast amounts of time right now planning for their upcoming game on Sunday. They’re watching hours and hours of film, trying to anticipate what the other team will try to do, then creating schemes and plays to exploit any weaknesses they can find while they leverage their strength. When I coached high school lacrosse, I used to tell our offensive players that their job was to solve the riddle that the defense represented every time they gained possession of the ball. How well they solved the riddle had a lot to do with their training. It also had everything to do with how they executed and adapted. I always felt like if I did my job well, I was simply training them to adapt.

Executing the plan is simply competing - playing the game - in real time. The whistle blows, and off you go. All the training, all the practice, all the strategy, it all plays out now in the rush of adrenaline, speed, contact and whatever else is happening in the here and now. The plan is being realized in this stage. Those who execute best let their body intuitively do the work, as too much thinking can get in the way. The flow state is what we’re after here. 

in the execution stage, coaches and athletes realize what’s working and what isn’t. As the game unfolds, the need to adapt emerges. Perhaps the plan isn’t working or the opponent rolls out a new wrinkle that is completely unexpected. Again if you watch the NFL this Sunday, you’ll see the quarterback approach the line of scrimmage, survey the defense, then often change a called play depending on the defensive alignment (which is often a disguise). These little subplots create drama that makes it fun to watch. As games unfold, adjustments are made moment by moment but also during times when play is stopped. Some games have no stop - think of track, or a crew race, or sailing race. Tennis stops between sets for a short break. Soccer is more or less continuous. Hockey has long breaks between periods. Football has a long halftime. Surfing is continuous adaptation. Maybe that’s why it’s so enthralling. These all represent opportunities to adapt - to change the plan - to correct course. To reset.

Sport mirrors life. We all make plans to some extent. Few adults living a reasonably productive and happy life can afford to simply live aimlessly from one moment to another (I tried that with mixed success in college). We need to plan to ensure things get done - bills get paid, cars are maintained, children are clothed, pets are fed, work is done. We execute our plans as best we can. Sometimes we screw up dinner, run late to a meeting, or forget to brush our teeth. We have to be mindful not to let plans become expectations. We can plan for things to play out a certain way, but we need to be flexible in knowing things don’t always go according to plan.

So much is out of our control. Maybe it snows on your commute, or the power goes out. The washing machine kicks. You get stuck behind a school bus on your way to a meeting. You twist an ankle and tear a ligament. Or you lose your job or your kid gets hurt or struggles in school. Or your spouse gets cancer.

In the game of life, we can plan all we want, we execute every day from when we wake up until we finally fall asleep. In between, in the game, shit happens. Life happens. Hard stuff happens. Unexpectedly hard and brutally difficult things happen. Wishing it didn’t doesn’t help. It actually makes it worse.

So you adapt. You change the plan on the fly. Maybe a little. Maybe a lot. You get a new job, you drop everything and help your kid or your friend. You grieve. You learn to let go. You keep moving forward, hopefully a little wiser. You try to stay in that flow state of life where your training kicks in and you live - and adapt - intuitively. When the waves of joy and sorrow come, you surf them without getting sucked under.

Your happiness in this life, your success at playing this game - the only game that really matters - has everything to do with your ability to adapt. Your resilience is about your flexibility, not your physical strength. You have to be like water sometimes. Adaptation isn’t about trying harder - though effort and the desire to improve are important. You have to want it. Adaptation is most often about discovering new ways to deal with the problem. It all starts with your mind.

How are you training your mind to be better able to adapt to the constantly changing flow of life? It’s easy when the plan is working. But your happiness depends on how you manage the hard stuff, how or if you are able to hit that curveball when life’s pitcher throws it. And what you do after you strike out. How do you respond in that moment?

As you consider your own ability to adapt to ever changing circumstances, consider that your mind and body are one. Train one, and you’re training the other. Physical and mental fitness works in concert. In stereo even. You know the building blocks - eat good food, limit alcohol, exercise, connection socially, meditate, be positive, be compassionate - these are the qualities and practices - obvious and subtle - that need cultivation and daily tending. These are the practices that enable you to grow, evolve and ultimately to execute and adapt in ways that bring you - and others around you - into greater states of well being. That’s worth practicing. So keep practicing. Every day.

You’re in the game. The clock is ticking. Plan. Execute. Adapt. Until the final whistle sounds.

Thanks for Reading!

The Practice is a labor of love - literally. It is free of ads and paywalls, and always will be.

If you enjoy reading it, consider making a one time or recurring donation via my secure business PayPal here.

Old School? Don’t like online transactions? Consider sending a donation to me at my address - 306 Front St., Marion MA 02738.

Know someone who might like to read my newsletter? Please forward this to them and ask them to sign up.

Thank you!