Following on from Part 1, these principles apply far beyond the sports. In fact, some of the most obvious examples can be found in acting, where the difference between practising a performance and delivering it under pressure can be substantial.
Imagine you’re an actor on set. You’ve learnt your lines, rehearsed your scenes and worked through the character’s emotional journey. You know the material and yet, when the cameras start rolling, the crew falls silent and everyone turns their attention towards you, something changes. You become acutely aware that you’re being watched. Your heart rate increases, your breathing becomes shallower, your muscles tense and your mind starts monitoring what you’re doing.
You might suddenly struggle to recall a line that you knew perfectly well a few minutes earlier. You become overly conscious of your movements, your delivery or the expression on your face. Instead of being immersed in the scene, you’re thinking about how you’re performing.
This is a form of performance anxiety, and the underlying mechanisms are not exclusive to acting. The same thing can happen to an athlete stepping onto the competition mat, a musician walking onto a stage or someone delivering a presentation in front of colleagues.
The challenge is that the skills you’ve developed in practice don’t necessarily disappear under pressure, but your ability to access and execute them can be affected by how you respond to the situation. Excessive self-monitoring, distraction and physiological arousal will often interfere with the automatic processes you’ve spent so long developing.
This is why preparation should account for the experience of being observed, not just the technical requirements of the task. An actor might rehearse in front of other people, practice scenes whilst being recorded or become familiar with the practical rhythm of a film set with all the crew members in the background. A public speaker might rehearse in the room where they’ll be presenting, practice with an audience or deliberately introduce distractions into their preparation.
The same principle applies to examinations. Revising your notes in a comfortable environment is one thing; sitting in silence under timed conditions, with an unfamiliar paper in front of you and the knowledge that your result matters, is quite another. Practicing under realistic exam conditions helps you become familiar with the time constraints, the format and the mental demands of the experience itself.
Likewise, if you’re preparing for a driving test, you can practice the routes and manoeuvres you’re likely to encounter, become familiar with the test format and rehearse responding calmly when you make a mistake. You can’t predict every instruction or road condition, but you can prepare for the general experience of being assessed. Across all these examples, the principle remains the same; don’t just prepare for the task; prepare for the conditions under which you’ll have to perform it.
Although on a side note here, I found what helped with my driving test was actually making conversation with the examiner, because that’s what I used to during the lessons with my instructor. So in a way, I did the opposite of training under the conditions of the test and instead, changed the conditions of the test to a more familiar environment.
Composure Under Pressure
Something I have emphasised the importance of many times over the years in articles, interviews, my book as well as my teachings, so I won’t harp on too long about this! Of course, familiarising yourself with the environment and mentally rehearsing the experience are only part of the equation. Eventually, the moment arrives when you’re actually required to put it all into practice and perform. You can have prepared meticulously, but how do you manage yourself when the pressure is real?
One of the most important things to understand is that composure is not simply a personality trait. It isn’t something that some people are naturally blessed with while others are destined to struggle without it. Although people differ in their temperaments and their responses to stress, composure is something you can practice and develop.
When we perceive a situation as threatening, demanding or particularly important, our bodies can enter a heightened state of arousal. Our heart rate may increase, our muscles can become tense, and our breathing can become faster and shallower. This response isn’t inherently bad; a degree of arousal can help mobilise us for action, sharpen our readiness and give us the energy we need to perform.
The problem arises when that response becomes excessive or poorly regulated for the task in front of us; we can become so caught up in the significance of the moment that our attention shifts away from what we’re actually trying to do.
A martial artist might become preoccupied with the consequences of losing rather than concentrating on the opponent in front of them.
Someone taking an exam might spend so much time worrying about their performance that they struggle to retrieve information they know perfectly well.
An actor might worry about making a mistake rather than connecting with the scene.
In each case, the challenge is not necessarily a lack of ability. It may be that the person’s response to pressure is getting in the way of that ability.
It starts with your breathing. One of the simplest and most accessible places to begin is with your breathing.
Breathing is particularly useful because it operates both automatically and voluntarily. We don’t need to think about every breath we take, but we can also deliberately change the rate and pattern of our breathing, which gives us a practical way of influencing our physiological state when we notice ourselves becoming overwhelmed or excessively tense.
When we’re anxious, we often begin breathing more rapidly and shallowly. Sometimes we hold our breath without even realising it, particularly when concentrating or anticipating something difficult. These changes can contribute to the sensations associated with anxiety and make it harder to settle ourselves.
By deliberately slowing our breathing, we can help regulate our arousal and encourage the body to move towards a calmer state. Slow, comfortable breathing can influence the autonomic nervous system, including mechanisms involved in heart rate regulation. It won’t necessarily make every feeling of anxiety disappear, but it gives us a practical starting point for managing our response. This is where the ‘danger’ is still present, but how you respond to it becomes a choice.
The key here is to practice this before you need it.
Try sitting comfortably and breathing at a steady, relaxed pace. Allow the breath to move naturally, without forcing it. Gradually slow the rhythm, keeping the inhale comfortable and allowing the exhale to be gentle and unhurried. You might find that breathing in for around four seconds and out for around six seconds works for you, although there is no single rhythm that suits everyone. If this feels uncomfortable, return to your normal breathing rather than forcing the pace.
Pay attention to how your body responds; notice whether your shoulders begin to relax, whether tension eases from your jaw and whether your thoughts begin to settle. The objective isn’t to take the biggest breath possible or to achieve a particular number, but rather to find a comfortable rhythm that helps you regulate your state.
With regular practice, you can become more familiar with the feeling of being physically settled. Should you then notice your breathing becoming rapid before a competition, a performance or an examination, you will have something practical to return to.
This is important because composure doesn’t mean pretending you aren’t nervous; it means recognising what’s happening and knowing how to respond. You may still feel the anticipation of the moment, but you don’t have to allow that feeling to dictate your behaviour.
It’s also worth remembering that the aim isn’t always to become completely relaxed. An athlete preparing to compete, or an actor preparing for an emotionally demanding scene may need energy, alertness and intensity. The goal is to regulate your arousal so that it serves the task rather than interferes with it.
Learning to control your breathing is one way of developing that awareness. Over time, you can begin to recognise the early signs of stress, intervene before they escalate and return your attention to what matters most. If you can handle yourself, you will always have an influence over the outcome of the situation rather than becoming a victim of your own nerves.