Flourishing with Feedback: A Case Study
Ok, it’s not really a case study. But, as a follow up to my last article, I thought it may be beneficial to “walk the talk” and showcase an example of when I put the principles I talked about regarding feedback, into practice. So here goes!
[If you need a refresher for my 3 pointers on how to flourish with feedback, give it a read here: (link).]
As you know, I was a competitive pairs figure skater. I trained 6 days a week with my skating partner and a team of coaches. To reach the Olympic level, we had to be very analytical and critical of our training in order to ensure that we were practicing in a way that would lead to the results we desired. Every single day was filled with a myriad of feedback, feedforward, criticism and praise that I was challenged to work with in a productive manner, but there is a particular moment that stands out in my memory as the epitome of “thriving with feedback”.
It was September 2013, which meant it was in the thick of the season leading up to our Olympic qualifiers and ultimately, the Olympics. I had been battling injuries throughout spring and summer, and was incredibly frustrated. My partner and I competed at our first international competition of the season and while it certainly wasn’t great, I left the competition feeling as though I had done the best that I could considering the circumstances. I knew we had a lot of work left to do before the Olympic Qualifying event, and was ready to get back to it.
What I wasn’t ready for, was the feedback I received Monday morning as I stepped back onto the ice. My coach informed me that the overall consensus from the competition was that I appeared “dull to watch” and that “people were drawn to watching Rudi throughout our programs”.
Dull? Me?? And even more hurtful was the idea that people were watching my partner skate our program. Now, to those that aren’t intimately familiar with pair figure skating, a familiar line to mostly everyone is “pair boys are the frame and pair girls are the picture”. Meaning that while the pair boys are excellent support and add a needed structure, the pair girls are the art that really sell the duo.
Upon hearing this, I was both shocked (this was a huge shift in the dynamics of our pair team) and proud of Rudi. He had been working really hard that year on his finesse and to hear it paying off was a big win for us as a duo.
But my immediate reaction…. to be honest with you- I pissed that I was being outdone.
But before I cascaded into self-pity and/or even more frustration with myself, I caught myself asking myself working through these very questions and points:
1) Do I trust and respect the person who is delivering this tough feedback?
It was being delivered to me by the two coaches I worked with the most and trusted with all my being. If they felt it necessary to pass along to me, I knew the feedback held merit.
2) Feedback is meant to help me; regardless of how badly it hurts.
Facts are facts. Feedback is meant to help. Now I wanted to be angry with the world and wallow in my hurt pride. I wanted to point out that I already was struggling with injuries and that I didn’t need to also start struggling with self-confidence. I wanted to both high-five Rudi, and yell at him to quit showing me up!!! I WANTED to tell everyone to piss off!
My ego knew that I was better than the feedback I had just received. And yet... at the end of the day, if my efforts weren’t being received in a way that I desired, I knew the only thing I could do was adapt my efforts. I began to see that this feedback came to me at a critical period in our season- simply meaning that I still had time before the Olympic qualifying event to make some positive changes. I began to see that I needed this kick-in-the-pants to quit my pity-party and to start focusing on the “controllables”. This feedback was a timely gift, and rather than wallowing in pity, I looked at what I could change. Which brought me to...
3) The power in feedback lies in what you do with it.
I knew that I needed to make some changes. I had to evolve my skating and my performing so that the audience and judges wouldn’t be able to take their eyes off of me. I began to approach each training session differently. I would purposely choose a random bystander before each program we did and tell myself that before the end of the program, I would have them watching us (*cough* ME). I worked tirelessly with our choreographers, asking them to push me to emote and tell a story with my skating. I listened to our music and visualized the feeling of the music in quiet moments when I wasn’t on the ice. I videoed myself, I worked on facial expressions in my bedroom mirror, I watched what Rudi was doing throughout our programs and challenged myself to perform more than him...
I used the feedback as a catalyst for growth on the ice.
And the outcome was amazing.
The programs I competed at the Olympic qualifiers and consequently the Olympics, were the two most emotional, gratifying and raw experiences that I have ever had the pleasure of creating. I put my heart into those performances, and to this day, I can look back on those memories and feel snippets of what I felt in those moments.
All because of some of the hardest feedback I ever received, and my decision to turn that feedback into the best gift I was ever given.
Feedback can and will be hard at times. It may even push you to the edge of a breaking point. But remember, when it comes to feedback, you are the boss and you get to use that feedback in a way that makes you better. Always.