Trust The Process …?
Three simple words, so much value. If you tried to oversimplify mental toughness into a slogan, this might be the one.
If we were the kind of organisation that liked palm cards—and had the budget for elaborately printed ones given to 100% of our sport and performance clients—you could make a strong case that “Trust the Process” would be on every single one of them for our clients to read before training and competition.
But it begs the question: what exactly is a process? If we’re going to trust it, we need to understand it.
Across most definitions, the common thread is this: a process is a series of actions designed to produce an outcome. And there is a clue here. Designed to produce an outcome, not to guarantee one.
From a sports psychology perspective, I usually break processes into two categories:
- Training processes
- Performance processes
Training Processes: Building What You Want to Become Automatic
Training processes are not thoughts or intentions. They are repeatable actions you deliberately practise over time.
If your sport demands strength, your training process includes consistently lifting heavy weights. You don’t expect to get strong by thinking about weights—you get strong by doing the work repeatedly.
The same applies to the mind.
If you want better concentration under pressure, you don’t wait for it to appear on game day. You train it. That might include:
- attention control drills
- pre-performance routines
- breathing protocols under fatigue
- simulated distractions in practice
Take a football (soccer) midfielder, for example. If they struggle to scan the field under pressure, you don’t just tell them to “focus more.” You design training constraints that force them to scan before receiving every pass.
Or consider a tennis player. If double faults increase under pressure, the training process isn’t hope—it’s structured repetition of serving under fatigue, under score pressure, and with consequence-based practice sets.
Same skill. Different framing. Always process-driven.
Turning skill into automaticity
This is where the “trust” part becomes critical.
The goal of training is not just competence—it is automaticity under pressure.
We want performance behaviours to become so well learned that they don’t require conscious thought. This is what people often describe as “muscle memory,” although it applies just as much to decision-making and communication as it does to technique.
This is also where the idea of flow becomes relevant—often associated with the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Flow occurs when the skill level is well matched to the challenge, and execution becomes fluid and absorbed rather than forced and analytical.
In sport, that might look like:
- a basketball guard instinctively reading a defensive rotation rather than overthinking it
- a rugby player making an offload without consciously planning it mid-contact
- a golfer committing fully to a swing without mid-action technical corrections
At that point, conscious thought shifts away from execution and toward awareness: space, timing, momentum, and opponents.
Mental Skills Are Skills, Too
One of the most overlooked ideas in sport is this: mental and communication skills need the same training process as physical skills.
Take communication in team sports.
A point guard in basketball or a centre in ice hockey doesn’t just “become a good communicator” by caring about it. It has to be trained.
That might involve:
- calling specific set plays under fatigue
- giving clear, short verbal cues in live drills
- rehearsing defensive communication scripts (“switch,” “screen left,” “help baseline”)
- even role-playing emotional control in high-pressure scrimmages
In football, think about a goalkeeper communicating to his/her defenders about the setup of the wall when the opposition is about to take a free kick. The timing, tone, clarity, and assertiveness of communication can be rehearsed just like a passing drill.
In elite rugby environments, leaders are often trained to deliver specific messages in specific emotional states—calming the team after conceding, lifting intensity after a turnover, or resetting focus after a referee decision.
The key idea is simple: if it matters in competition, it must be trained in preparation.
Repetition Makes Permanent
There’s an important distinction here that often gets missed:
People often say, “Practice makes perfect,” but in reality, practice makes permanent.
If the repetition is good, you get good habits. If the repetition is sloppy, you get automatic mistakes.
That’s why training environments matter. It’s not just repetition—it’s correct repetition under the right conditions.
This is also why practice matches are so valuable. They’re not just “games before the real game”—they are controlled environments where:
- communication is tested
- decision-making is stressed
- emotional responses are observed
- feedback is applied immediately
All of this belongs in the training process.
Performance Processes: When It’s Time To Stop Improving
Come match day, the mindset changes.
The opportunity to improve in real time is essentially gone. You are now in execution mode.
This is where “trust the process” becomes psychologically important.
It does not mean the process is perfect.
It means: this is not the time to fix it.
Even if the skill isn’t fully developed yet, competition is no longer the laboratory. It’s the performance environment. It’s the place to express yourself.
A golfer standing over a shot on the 18th hole doesn’t start rebuilding their swing mechanics.
A basketball player at the free-throw line doesn’t suddenly revisit shooting form theory.
A cricket batter facing a fast bowler in a tense chase doesn’t start adjusting grip mid-delivery.
They execute what has been trained.
Why Reflection Still Matters
This is where tools like training and performance journals become powerful.
By separating reflection from performance, you allow:
- training to be analytical
- competition to be instinctive
Before competition: clarity.
During competition: trust.
After competition: learning.
You don’t carry technical thoughts into execution.
You extract them afterwards.
A Final Analogy: Brushing Your Teeth
I often use brushing your teeth as a simple model for this.
When you learned it, it was conscious:
- how long
- how hard
- where to move your hand
But at some point, it became automatic. You don’t rehearse technique before doing it. You just do it.
Most elite sports skills are trying to reach that same level of automation—but they are just harder to observe.
A jump shot, a penalty kick, a defensive read, a leadership communication under pressure—they all rely on the same principle:
Train it deliberately. Repeat it correctly. Then trust it when it matters.
