For many of us in the sport of weightlifting, we train regularly, which informs and shapes our identities as athletes. But what happens if we are injured? What happens when we cannot train regularly? Are we no longer athletes? For some weightlifters, attending physical therapy, spectating at meets where teammates are competing, and otherwise contributing to the gym culture may be enough to leave this “athlete” identity intact. These habits, sometimes temporary, still serve the individual gestalt. However, what happens if we don’t have these secondary habits built into our primary training habit? Even worse, what happens if our injury takes us out of the sport permanently?

Conversely, sometimes a priori identity constructs are used as a lens for specific behaviors. This can be helpful or harmful. Perhaps the notion of being an athlete was bestowed upon you by a peer or a parent who saw your potential or for whom it was important that you present in such a way. Having this identity handed to you may have served as impetus to get you to the gym, to engage you in regular training. When these habits and this offered identity align with how you authentically feel on the inside, such an offering can be a glorious gift. Beyond the dramatized stories of people being “discovered,” there are plenty of individuals whose inherent natures have been revealed to them by outside parties. In the best instances, this can feel like enlightenment, and can catalyze us towards meaningful work and positive self-image. This does not mean to suggest that you should walk around “revealing” people’s true natures to them, nor should you project your own notions of self onto others. This latter pattern may be evident in parent-child dynamics where it is important to the parent that their offspring participate in certain activities. Ideally, the child will at some point be invited to consider what genuinely makes them happy, and will assess the identity offered to them by the parent using such a metric. This is a crucial operation of emotional math. If we conceive of time as a resource, if we consider our lives to be valuable, we must seriously consider how we are spending our time, how we are living our lives. Do you want to cultivate a daily habit that you don’t take seriously?

In another harmful way, sometimes a priori identity constructs can be used to excuse bad behavior. I think we’ve all met one or two people (maybe more) who have sung something to the tune of “I’m non-committal because I’m a Gemini.” (Not to malign the noble Gemini; it’s just an example, and I will gladly offer stereotypes for every other sign if need be.) The underlying point is that sometimes we hold so tightly a certain identity that we forget to assess our behavior and build habits that reinforce that identity on a regular basis. In a gym setting, this may be the person who takes offense easily, who doesn’t hear feedback, who asserts themselves and projects their notions of self onto others in undignified ways. This person may be quick to criticize others, likely in some maladaptive attempt to balance the emotional books so they feel less psychologically threatened by those who are happy, who take themselves lightly, who display grit.

What does all this tell us about the habit-self feedback loop? What does it tell us about the coach-athlete feedback loop? Put simply, it’s not easy to coach a bad human. Being a good athlete does not make you a good human, nor does being a good human make you a good athlete. (However, being a good human often makes you a coachable athlete and a good teammate.) If you are someone for whom your identity construct, your authentic self, and your daily habits do not align, you will likely struggle to take what you do seriously and yourself lightly. Your habit-self feedback loop will be suboptimal. Externally, if offered feedback, technical or otherwise, you are likely to be inclined to exclude such information that does not reinforce your seriously-held identity. This will effectively shut down an effective coaching feedback loop, where the athlete and coach engage in mutual, open discussion about the habits that will make you a good weightlifter. Furthermore, it will shut down an effective habit-self feedback loop, where you build useful, daily habits that you take seriously and which inform how you see yourself and who you genuinely want to be.

If your habits do not construct your identity, you’re going to feel unhappy. If your authentic self does not inform your identity, you’re going to feel unhappy. You are not going to be fully engaged in the quotidian elements of your life. For athletes, and for weightlifters in particular, this life typically involves a daily grind of challenging training. If you are unable to find something you genuinely love in that, you just might behave like a crummy human. And crummy humans just aren’t easy to coach. (Unrelated: Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands.)

As a coach, it’s delightful to find a coachable and gifted athlete who is collaborative in their own training but who ultimately trusts their coach when it comes to the fundamentals of their development. (I say this as a coach of a sport other than weightlifting, though cursory qualitative data gathering tells me this is generally true.) However, not all athletes are quite this delightful. Beyond super toxic humans, who are oftentimes asked to leave teams or gym settings, the challenge for coaches is to hit the sweet spot of offering technical feedback and helping an athlete build habits that will inform and bolster their authentic selves.

As athletes, the challenge may be trickier. Where is that line between trying harder and giving up? Is your athletic pursuit in service of your authentic self? Is now the time to dig in and find your grit, or is now the time to move onto something that makes you happier? These are hard questions to ask, especially of someone who has not done the self-analysis necessary to determine if their habits and their identity inform each other in a productive feedback loop.

Coaches also have the additional challenge of assessing group ecology and determining what feedback to offer to athletes in a way and at a time that simultaneously serves the needs of all of the athletes in a present group. Not every athlete can hear difficult feedback in a group setting, and good coaches often assess in the moment what is going to develop good habits in that athlete while leaving their identity structure intact. Of course, for those humans whose labels have become more important than their true selves, this may be unachievable. (But they may self-eliminate from the group in the long run anyways.)

So, what are the take-aways? Know yourself. Understand who you are and how you want to spend each day of your life. Know your athletes. Understand the group ecology of your team. Behave in ways that serve your authentic self, repeatedly. Develop your grit. Navigate the line between trying harder and giving up in a genuine way. Be a good human. Be a good athlete. Listen, to your coach, to others, and to yourself. Take what you do seriously, but yourself lightly.