A postcard from The Zone

I've been there and it's even better than we're told.

It's spoken of in terms of hushed reverence, a near-mystical destination, a Golfing Nirvana. Professional golfers struggle to define it, yet in doing so convey a sense of it's magnitude. We read on in envy, not quite able to believe that we are capable of accessing it. We feel that if we ever get there, as soon as we realise it will evaporate, never to return

And yet I've been in The Zone, so many times I've lost count. I've been there before I knew of it's existence, long before I even thought of taking up golf. And yet when I realised what it was, it didn't disappear. Techniques gleaned from golf performance coaches allowed me to consciously extend, explore and enjoy my experience.

Even before discovering it was known as The Zone I was aware that there were certain activities where I could become so engaged I'd reach a state of capability far in advance of what I could ordinarily achieve; where I could, if circumstances were correct, completely lose myself and eventually awaken exhilarated and awash with energy.

One such pursuit was dancing. Long before meeting Mrs Geek, having the Geeklets and discovering golf I enjoyed heading out on Friday or Saturday night to a club. I absolutely love music and have a very eclectic taste, so it didn't matter what was playing. Funk, soul, house or jazz (the best nights were the ones where all of these and more were on the menu) as long as you could dance to it, I would.

Now, I'd never lay claim to being the best of dancers. I tend to dance from the knees up, feet firmly planted to the floor, a writhing mass of arms swaying from side to side in front of the beat. Think of a Martial Artist who's had his feet nailed to the ground, who's fighting off opponents who proceed in a rhythmical fashion and you're pretty much there. I can't do any other style of dancing, it's just this. But what I did have was the ability to totally immerse myself in the music, anticipating it's beat, really feeling it's soul in mine. And it's an incredible feeling; when I tried to describe it to friends I found myself couching it in the same pseudo-mystical terms in which The Zone is described. ("Connected to the rhythms of the Universe" is one comment I took a long time to live down). I wasn't always able to get to this place, but when I did it was worth it. There were definitely times I lost my "mojo" by trying too hard.

Our fear is that the Zone will dissipate as soon as we realise we are there. I'm glad to say this isn't the case. Life limits me to a couple of nights out dancing each year, but I'm able to get into The Zone on almost every opportunity. I was perhaps guilty of trying too hard after first learning of The Zone. This lead to a fun but slightly frustrating night where I'd appear at the gateway to The Zone only to tense up and lose it. Reflecting on that experience, I thought about this tension and resolved to deal with it at the next opportunity. I realised I was tensing my feet and I directed awareness there, uncurled them and relaxed into The Zone. I then also tried a distraction technique I'd learned from Andy Morrison with great success ("Glued Tongue" in case you were wondering; this technique's on the free report from his website, please check it out). Any time I now feel myself losing my flow, I uncurl my toes and pretend my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. It may sound odd, but it is of course absolutely invisible to anyone who happens to be watching.

So how does this relate to my golf? Well, I'm still trying to work it out. Although dancing and golf are both motor activities, they're very different. Golf seems very on/off and isn't reactive whereas dancing is all about reacting to the music. You can also choose which songs to dance to, and choose if and when to take a break. However, the sense of rhythm and flow that dancing provides must help in golf and as I've said before one of my prinicpal goals for the approaching winter is to have my routine flowing throughout. I also press my index finger and thumb on my right hand frimly together when I realise I'm there to "anchor" that feeling to that gesture. Some may be sceptical of anchoring, but there's no way it can be harmful, so why not try?

The main benefit though is that I not only truly believe The Zone exists, but I know I can get there and remain there. This isn't some abstract obscure state that only golfing Yogis can access, it's there for us all. Best of all, I know how good it feels. I may not have got there whilst golfing yet, but I will. And when I do you can bet I'll be uncurling my toes and pretending my tongue's glued to the roof of my mouth. You won't be able to see this, of course.

All you'll be able to see is my smile.