【Direct News Press】
The "sparkling" Gu Ailing has recently become popular all over the global network. In addition to the glory of winning gold at the Winter Olympics, she is also good at long-distance running, singing, dancing ballet, usually as a model to receive advertisements, and was admitted to Stanford University with a SAT score of nearly full score. The world is amazed by the wonderful life of this 18-year-old Mixed-Race Girl of Chinese and American descent along the way.
When responding to questions from foreign media after the game, Gu Ailing was very direct, saying that she did not care whether others were satisfied. "Because I'm trying to be the best version of myself and I'm enjoying the whole process." She also said that she is speaking out through her own practical actions to bring more positive changes to related fields as much as possible. In particular, use their own performance to encourage women to break the boundaries. "I know I'm kind at heart, and I know that every decision I make is for the good of more people."
Looking back at Gu Ailing's resume, it is not difficult to find that this girl can always pass the level smoothly at many key nodes, and the bumps and worries of ordinary people always seem to be insignificant in her. Taking the Winter Olympics as an example, with the first two jumps she could almost lock in the medal, the crucial third jump she still riskily chose to challenge herself with the most difficult moves, and finally won successfully. We believe that this is not unrelated to her good mentality, especially the concept of facing difficulties and overcoming difficulties.
Before the Beijing Winter Olympics, Gu Ailing published an article in the New York Times in which she elaborated on her understanding and treatment of nervousness, "fear" and nervousness. Straight News has compiled this article as follows:
I confess that I fell in love with "fear"
For the last 10 years of my life at the age of 18, I've been in a relationship with "fear" that has had its ups and downs. I am a professional freestyle skier. A pair of snowboards on my feet, a 22-foot U-shaped pool and a variety of stunt moves are my main source of adrenaline and a core element of truly addictive extreme sports.
Like all those lovers who make people "star-eyed" (at least like the ones I read from fiction, because I still lack the corresponding experience in real life), your important other half can sometimes be very... Play fast and loose. In fact, "fear" can be regarded as a general term for three different feelings, that is, "excitement", "uncertainty" and "stress". I've found that if I can recognize these feelings and actively use them, there will be subtle signals in each feeling that will help me succeed, and if I don't accidentally ignore them, then these feelings will be a precursor to my injury.
While athletes engaged in extreme sports can easily be labeled "fearless" or "willful," whether it's the countless hours I spend conceiving the action, or the sheer amount of time I spend in foam pits (the kind where foam particles fly everywhere) and airbags, this is not the case. We have to go against biological intuition and put ourselves at risk. While we will make every effort to be physically prepared, no amount of safety net simulation training can be equated with the snow slope we will face when we take off from a steep slope, throw our bodies into the air, and are about to land. Rather than ignoring "fear," we develop a deep sense of self and conduct a deliberate risk assessment to build a unique relationship with "fear."
The first step in this matter is called "figuration": before trying a new trick action, I will feel a tension in the chest (between the bottom of my throat and the top of my diaphragm to be precise). I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As I climb the huge take-off ramp, I'll stretch my legs imagined to maximize lift. Then, I'm going to paint in my head how to twist my upper body in the opposite direction, generate torque, and then let it bounce back in the other direction.
At this moment, in my consciousness, I was already in a state of flying in the air. In the first moment after the jump, I would see my back, and then the rotation of my body would drag my eyes to the cloudless sky overhead. The sound of the wind in my ears became a song, and every 360-degree rotation beat my movements. Halfway through the turn and my feet back under my body, I instantly found the final landing site, and then I started pulling a second flip. When I return to the forward-facing position, I imagine my legs swinging underneath and letting the front of the snowshoe carry the weight of the body firmly on the ground. I smiled, opened my eyes, and a 1440-degree flip was done.
A few seconds after I had completed the "embodiment", the sense of urgency in my chest would fluctuate up and down, and then begin to spread — at this point, we had reached the critical stage of "breaking the cocoon into a butterfly". "Excitement" is a product of adrenaline and a presence that I love and fascinate. I have both the confidence to work wonders for my safety and the excitement of the unpredictable experiences that are coming, and the balance between the two is not stable. I've heard that this state can be called a "zone," and I experienced it last fall when I became the first female skier in history to perform a 1,440-degree deflection maneuver.
Unfortunately, the "sense of uncertainty" in my heart often overwhelms self-confidence easily. If I wasn't well prepared, my palms would sweat, and the sense of urgency I had just mentioned would shift to my stomach, making my breathing more urgent every time. This feeling is not panic, but something similar to "fear". "Dangerous" signals inspire evolutionary instincts. But if I choose to exclude the "interference" of this safety mechanism, the body will be able to play freely in the air, complete the rotation, and prepare me for the "fear" impact of "this set of actions is likely to be messed up". Every freestyle skier strives to identify the nuances between excitement and uncertainty in order to minimize the risk of injury while maximizing the level.
Finally, stress. This is a source of energy that can be used in many ways. A person's experience of stress (and the most subjective aspect of "fear") is influenced by personal experiences and perceptions. The expectations of friends and family, the intensity of competition, and even sponsorship opportunities can create a "high-pressure" environment. For those involved in the competition, stress can be a positive motivator to cope with the situation, but it can also be a direct bad thing that leads to the failure of the competition.
But athletes may choose to suppress or reinforce this buried feeling of "proof of themselves" in their hearts, depending on their self-confidence. As a newly adult female athlete, I'm still very proud of this aspect – I can cope with the pressure by being able to increase my self-confidence and minimize my need for external expectations. Whether I'm alone or facing a world audience in front of a TV set, I'm focused on being grateful for the moment, judging the moment, and enjoying the joy that sports brings me. While my personal and world perspective will always evolve over time, one thing will not change: no matter how long it takes, I will always be a hopeless "romantic" in the face of "fear".
Compile the | Di Jing is a direct news reporter of Shenzhen Satellite TV