Read the original story on The Huffington Post

By Maddie Crum

4,990. That’s roughly how many hours any given Olympic hopeful spent training between the London Games and now, hurdling, sprinting or vaulting toward her goals, flicking beads of sweat out of her line of vision. Practice can mean maintaining a strong, sculpted physique, like polishing a stone. It can mean perfecting a technique that must be judged favorably to secure victory, or using that technique as a foundation for speed and efficiency.

That number ― 4,990 ― is what you get when you multiply two two-hour training sessions by six days each week by 52 weeks each year for four years, including religious and personal holidays. It does not include the time devoted to commuting, cooking and otherwise maintaining impeccable physical health, or the time spent maintaining anything else: relationships with family and friends, academic pursuits, personal finances. Feeding a cat, fixing a car. The tasks and duties, big and small, that make up a life. For those who compete in particularly time-consuming sports ― like Michael Phelps, who logs six hours of swimming and weightlifting each day, six days each week ― the count is even higher.

Collectively, these hours spent on a single pursuit are voluminous enough to envelop an identity whole. It’s why we praise athletes for their work ethic and tenacity; they look like our own aspirational visions of goal-achievement, but with a hyper-focus that’s hard to relate to firsthand. For most of us, such myopia is discouraged. Balance and moderation, we’re told, are integral to happiness. When you give that much of yourself over to something, something else has to give way.

Scott Goldman, a sports psychologist at the University of Michigan, explains the commitment plainly: “The amount of time, effort and energy an athlete puts into their sport exceeds almost anything else they’ve ever done in their life.” So, if you were a swimmer, “you probably spent more hours swimming than you did learning how to drive. You probably spent more hours in the pool than you did with, say, your boyfriend.”

Read the rest of the story.

Read the original story from Vice Sports

By B. David Zarley

Consider elite athletes. They are, in an incontrovertible and empirical sense, endowed—blessed with gifts that dwarf those of the rest of us, most obviously in the corporeal department: frames like buildings, ballistic arrays of muscle fiber, hand-eye coordination and balance and poise and power that sends fans into slack-jawed wonder and sportswriters deep, deep into the analogy pit in an attempt to dredge up something, anything, that can translate these outlying specimens into something closer to the rest of the species.

Second to these physical strengths, but potentially far more important, is their mental fortitude. The tennis player, the golfer, the free-throw taker or field-goal kicker or fustian batter with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth—all are under the kind of immense pressure from which our most precious natural resources are made, and those who transmute in the heat and weight are paid like the valuable commodity they are.

But there are pilots, surgeons, salesmen—myriad walks of life require performance under pressure. And so the strongest mental gift of the athlete may in fact be discipline—the ability to grind out, day in and day out, the swings, the shots, the reps, the pages, whatever it takes. There is no I don’t have the time, no I’m not up for it today (or at least there’s much less). These are people who will play through grotesque injuries, who will shoot baskets hours and hours after a brutal loss, who will dedicate everything they have to the pursuit of their goals. That selachian mindset, the savage self-control, can kill them.

Or, channeled another way, it can be the key to well-honed, highly-tuned mental health.

Stacey Ervin was one such athlete. A recent graduate of the University of Michican, Ervin was a three-time All-American gymnast in the floor routine and vault; he holds the third highest floor score in NCAA history. He is, without a doubt, elite. Like any of his peers at that level of competition, Ervin was beholden to rigorous fitness, practice, and nutrition routines. Every morning, however, he carved 15 minutes from his busy schedule to practice meditation, actively training his mind to remain present by focusing on his breath. It’s a habit he still continues today. (Ervin makes use of an app to meditate, although he points out that nothing is really required—except, of course, yourself, some time, and discipline.)

Ervin’s approach to mental health is truly proactive, not reactive. He did not wait for a psychological crisis to arise. He simply adapted a technique he learned via Athletes Connected (read the original VS Story), a mental-health initiative and research program for student-athletes at Michigan.

“I wasn’t really going through any particularly stressful period of time,” he said. “But I figured if there’s anything to give me a mental edge in my sport, or life in general, why not take advantage?”

Read the rest of the story here.

From Sports Illustrated:

Michael Phelps is one of the most decorated athletes of all-time, with an all-time best 18 Olympic Gold Medals to along with a laundry list of world records and other accomplishments.  Phelps is also human, which makes him susceptible to struggle, something he knows intimately.  In a very candid story from Sports Illustrated, Phelps opens up about his struggles to control his drinking, his post-Olympic DUIs, and his transformative time in rehabilitation.  “I was in a really dark place,” Phelps says. “Not wanting to be alive anymore.”  Now, he’s training harder — and smarter — than ever, taking care of his body and his mind in preparation for his final quest: the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio.

Check out the full article here.

Read the entire story on The Players’ Tribune

By Adonal Foyle, retired NBA player

The first time I really wanted to understand the mental psyche of a professional athlete was when my coach was being choked by my teammate.

That was 18 years ago — my rookie year.

My curiosity about that incident — and what was behind it in the mind of the two individuals — resulted ultimately in my obtaining a graduate degree in sport psychology and becoming a mental skills consultant.

In thinking about the emotional problems of athletes today, the first name that comes to mind is, of course, Lamar Odom. Although Odom is one of the biggest names to have been linked to struggles with mental health issues, he’s certainly not the first. After playing just 27 games last season, Milwaukee Bucks forward Larry Sanders walked away from the league (and $27 million) in part due to his battles with anxiety and depression, which he shared first publicly on The Players’ Tribune last February. Royce White, who was a first-round draft pick in 2012, left the league two years later after playing in only three games in part due to his struggles with generalized anxiety disorder. Outside of basketball, just a day before the New York Yankees played their home opener in the American League Wild Card playoff, CC Sabathia checked himself into rehab to treat his alcohol abuse.

The idea of an athlete not being in full control of his destiny is viewed as sign of weakness.

These are only few of the cases that have become public. But they are just the barest tip of the iceberg. In locker rooms, just as at offices throughout the country, many individuals are dealing with debilitating personal issues. They all could use the help of a mental health professional.

In sports, we have to start addressing the emotional well-being of athletes. It is the only way to help those who might, without such assistance, be at risk of hurting themselves or others. For pro sports leagues that operate big businesses and provide entertainment and inspiration for millions of people around the world, it is also just the right thing to do.

Michele Roberts, executive director of the National Basketball Players Association reacted to news of Odom’s recent hospitalization forthrightly. She pointed out there is a “complete absence of any type of transition program for the guys,” and indicated that the union would attempt in the future to address this omission.

That said, why haven’t more professional athletes spoken up to ask for mental health programs if so many of them are in need of help? Part of the reason is how athletes in the four major professional leagues — the NBA, NFL, MLB and the NHL — are regarded. They are seen as gladiators competing in leagues characterized by masculinity and machismo. Everyone in the locker room wants to be the alpha male. So the idea of an athlete not being in full control of his destiny (or asking for help) is viewed as sign of weakness.

Read the rest of Adonal’s story.

Read the original story written by Brandon Marshall in the Huffington Post

Five-Time Pro Bowl wide receiver and current New York Jet standout Brandon Marshall has been very open about his struggles with mental illness, and the helpful diagnosis of and treatment for Borderline Personality Disorder that allowed him to re-gain control of his life, his health, and gave him a new outlook on life.

While Marshall is an elite NFL athlete, he says that football is his platform, mental health is his purpose.  His foundation, Project 375, aims to “to raise awareness, erase the stigma, and help people to get diagnosed and treated.”

Recently, Marshall opened up about the way we discuss mental health and mental illness, and how often inaccurate media coverage — and subsequent discussion in society — increases the stigma, and makes people less likely to seek help for treatable disorders.

Check out some of his mindful, pointed commentary.