Every season, I watch coaches identify their “mentally tough” athletes early. By October, they’ve sorted their roster. Some rowers have it. Some don’t. The ones who don’t? They get fewer opportunities, less attention, quiet skepticism.
Here’s the problem: the sorting is based on three lies we’ve all been told about mental toughness. And these lies aren’t just wrong, they’re actively preventing your athletes from developing the capacity to push through pain.
Let me show you what I mean.
This is the most damaging lie because it makes us stop coaching.
When we believe mental toughness is a fixed trait—something you either have or don’t—we shift from development to selection. We watch novices during their first hard erg test and make predictions. We note who grimaces and who stays stoic. We label athletes: “mentally tough” or “mentally weak.”
Then we treat those labels as permanent.
But here’s what the research actually shows: mental toughness is not a personality trait. It’s a trainable capacity, just like VO₂ max or lactate threshold.
Daniel Kahneman’s work in Thinking, Fast and Slow demonstrates that our responses to stress and discomfort are driven by learned patterns in what he calls System 1 – our fast, automatic, unconscious processing system. These patterns aren’t fixed at birth. They’re shaped by experience.
Your athlete who “doesn’t have it”? They have a nervous system that learned, through thousands of training experiences, to interpret certain levels of discomfort as dangerous. That’s not a character flaw. That’s conditioning.
And conditioning can be changed.
The athlete you’ve written off as “not tough enough” usually has what I call a miscalibrated Racing Brain, their fight-or-flight system sends stop signals earlier and louder than necessary. Nobody ever taught them how to recalibrate it.
That’s a coaching gap, not a selection problem.
Your rowers are doing thousands of high-intensity strokes every season. Brutal 2k tests. Painful 6k pieces. Racing and seat racing.
And yet, many of them are still fading at the same point. Still backing off when it hurts. Still underperforming relative to their training metrics.
Why doesn’t all that suffering translate into toughness?
Because volume without reflection doesn’t recalibrate anything. In fact, it often makes the problem worse.
Here’s what actually happens: Your athlete feels intense discomfort at the 1200m mark of a 2k. Their Racing Brain (the automatic threat-detection system) screams “DANGER! BACK OFF!” They ease up, even slightly. They finish the piece.
What did their Racing Brain just learn?
“Good call. That discomfort was dangerous. Backing off kept us safe. Next time, let’s sound the alarm even earlier.”
You think you’re building toughness through repetition. You’re actually training a more sensitive threat-detection system.
Tim Noakes’s Central Governor Model explains this perfectly. The brain doesn’t just respond to physiological signals, it predicts danger based on learned patterns. Every time an athlete backs off at 1200m and survives, the brain learns that 1200m is where the danger begins.
The hard training provides the stimulus. But without structured reflection on what actually happened versus what Racing Brain predicted would happen, the learning goes in the wrong direction.
This is character-based coaching. It sounds like:
And it triggers shame, not change.
Let me ask you something: Do you have athletes who work incredibly hard in practice, desperately want to succeed, feel devastated when they underperform… and still fade anyway?
Of course you do. Every coach does.
That’s not a motivation problem or a character problem. That’s a training problem, specifically, a nervous system training problem.
These athletes aren’t choosing to back off. Their automatic threat-detection system is overriding their conscious intentions. As Sian Beilock documents in her research on choking under pressure, what we consciously want to do and what our automatic systems actually do under stress are often completely different things.
Your athlete’s Racing Brain detects threat. It sends stop signals. Their conscious mind (what I call Training Brain) tries to override it. Racing Brain wins. It always does because the Racing Brain is designed for survival, not performance.
Telling them to “want it more” doesn’t change the automatic threat-detection threshold. It just adds shame to the experience of fading.
If these three lies are keeping athletes stuck, what’s the truth?
Mental toughness is a trainable capacity that develops through specific, structured exposure to discomfort combined with accurate reflection on what actually happened versus what the threat-detection system predicted would happen.
That’s a mouthful. Here’s what it means in practice:
Your athletes need to systematically collect evidence that their Racing Brain’s threat predictions are wrong. One piece at a time. With specific questions afterward that create what neuroscientists call prediction error—the gap between predicted danger and actual outcome.
The mechanism is the same one that drives exposure therapy for anxiety disorders. Repeated safe exposures to feared situations gradually recalibrate the threat-detection system.
For your rowers, this means:
Research on exposure-based learning suggests it takes 15-20 repetitions of this cycle to meaningfully update deeply ingrained threat patterns.
Not two or three hard pieces. Fifteen to twenty.
That’s systematic training, not hoping for toughness.
Stop sorting for mental toughness. Start training it.
Stop assuming hard training builds it automatically. Start adding structured reflection.
Stop treating fading as a character flaw. Start treating it as a miscalibrated threat-detection system that needs specific training.
The athletes you’ve been writing off? They’re not lost causes. They’re athletes who need targeted nervous system training that nobody ever taught them.
Want the complete framework for training mental toughness systematically? Check out the free Mindset Clinic.