Lessons from my Axe
A few weeks ago I qualified as one of 18 women who will represent Atlantic Canada at the World Double-Bit Axe Throwing Championships in August. I have been throwing axes for eight years now, ever since I met Suzy and Darren from Wild Axe Productions doing an axe throwing demonstration at a kayaking event. I became obsessed with it (more on that here).
At first I only threw axes alone, as a way to relax and take a break from work. But after a few years my brewery ended up sponsoring a competition, and I was invited to compete. That took my obsession to a whole new level. I presume it is like other similar sports in that there is definitely a physical technique to perfect but there is also a huge psychological component to being successful at it, especially in competition. When I’m competing it is really hard to forget that people are watching, and that the score matters.
Let’s face it, I become attached to the outcome.
Eight awesome women smiling because they qualified for the World Championships!
I decided a few months ago that I would try to qualify to compete at the Worlds. I decided that to prepare I would train a little bit every day. I am extremely invested in my to-do list, so I just put a repeating task on the list to throw axes every day. And pretty much every day I was home I did it. I have a target in my backyard and I threw at least two rounds of 6 throws every day and I kept score. As you would expect, I got better. The secret to competition axe throwing is to never miss a throw. If you consistently put points up every throw, in my experience, you’ll do just fine. And by the week of the qualifiers I was doing just that.
The Worlds are being held in Barrington, Nova Scotia, just a short way down the coast from where I live. So naturally, my brewery is the beer sponsor. On the day of the qualifiers I arrived at the park in my big beer van, ready to throw axes, represent my brand and sell some beer. I had convinced (or maybe more accurately, coerced) my 14-year-old son to come along as my support crew.
The moment my name was called for my round robin throws I felt something I hadn’t felt in years with my axe in my hand. I felt that buzz of nervous excitement that comes with competition. It had been three years since I’d thrown an axe in a competition and I had genuinely forgotten what it felt like. I did pretty well in the first round, but in the second I missed 4 of 6 throws. It wasn’t looking good. I decided to do what every good brewery owner would do in that situation. I had a beer and tried to relax. Then they called me up for my third and fourth rounds.
My third round was ok, but my fourth round I was throwing on the short target.
When we throw axes outdoors we correct the height of the bullseye based on the elevation of the ground. The short target is short when you are standing next to it, but exactly the same height as the others from the throw line. It really messes with your head.
I missed every throw.
I walked back to the van, dejected and my son greeted me with an incredulous look. “What happened Mom?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I replied.
Beer was clearly not the answer so I got some water and a snack. The next round would determine who would qualify. I needed to get my shit together. I wandered over to talk to Suzy, who was taking a break from judging. She had qualified for the Worlds already, in another tournament a few weeks earlier. She’s a seasoned competitor and one of the best, most consistent axe throwers I know. I asked her, “What do you do when you miss EVERY THROW?”
She said, “I remind myself to breathe.” She turned to look at me. “It’s probably like your yoga, you just have to breathe, and focus and talk yourself through the throw.”
Of course. Duh.
I know how to breathe. I know how to be present. The nervous energy of competition and the attention of the spectators had distracted me from the the other thing I practice every day: being present and connecting with my breath.
They called my name for the final round. Thankfully I was nowhere near the short target. I lined up for my first throw.
Inhale. Aim, Exhale. Inhale, Pull back. Exhale, Release.
With that satisfying KA-THUNK, I watched the head of my axe sink into the bullseye.
Unfortunately it was a practice throw, but it restored my confidence. For the rest of the round I practiced presence, being in the moment with my breath and my axe. I was consistent, and I qualified comfortably.
Of course I love axe throwing because it’s fun to wield a double-bit axe and hurtle it through the air at a target. But, it is also yet another way for me to practice presence.
It is like so many things in my life, when I am worried about and attached to the outcome, I miss the target. But when I set my intention and then stay present with one throw, one breath at a time, things just work out.