In explaining the hammer throw, Kevin used to tell me (to paraphrase badly) that he was trying to show me the moon, but he could only point. I've found that to be an extremely useful insight both as a coach and as an athlete. There is no magic to the words any coach uses to describe any feeling. While some coaches may use words which are more effective than others in communicating a feeling to a particular athlete, the words they use are only as good as the actions they produce.
When someone tells me to jump, or pull, or shrug, I still have to jump, pull, or shrug correctly. Shrugging in Olympic Lifting, for example, was a mystery to me for years. Up until recently, there were lots of pictures of me looking like a c from the top view, where my front formed the inside of the c. To me, shrugging meant shoulders up, and when weighted, that meant shoulders forward. Now, thankfully, I've come to understand that shrugging actually means shoulders up and back. Talk about a difference in execution. In either case, I would have to call the movement a shrug, but the physical result is dramatically different, and my success in completing heavy lifts is different too.
Sticking with the Olympic Lifting example, in a single session I may be told: jump, pull, shrug, hook grip, weight in my heels, chest up, eyes up, head up, look up, fast elbows, drop under, stay back... and the list continues. As a hammer thrower, cues in this volume were also common - I probably had 10 cues to work on at a minimum in every session. As a less experienced athlete, these sessions used to make me glaze over. I'd try to focus on all the cues in my head, but merely remembering them all, much less executing them, was exhausting and overwhelming. I remember sessions where my best throw could be reduced to about 50% of my ability - we're talking technical meltdown. Only later did I learn that even exceptional athletes can rarely hold more than 2-3 (and really more like 1-2) technical cues in their head at a time, and those cues generally have to be in different phases of the movement. For example, my current cues in lifting are heels down, shoulders up. When I start the lift, I focus on heels down (a.k.a. weight back). Immediately as I start the lift, I shift my focus to shoulders up. If I continue to focus on heels down after the lift starts, it's almost impossible to keep my shoulders up. If I try to focus on both at the same time, there's almost no chance I'll be successful on the lift. Weird.
Some could think this makes it hard to ever learn anything new. Kevin had a great illustration for this as well (the man is a genius). He told me to picture a new cue as though it were a field covered in fresh snow - completely unmarred by any footsteps. He said that each throw focusing on that cue was like a path through that snow. At first, each throw is somewhat independent from the others - like a new path in the snow. Over time, the paths (throws) create a highway through the snow (muscle memory) and it gets very difficult to change the path because of how deeply it's embedded. This is great news for technical events - learning a new piece of a movement is like the new snow - while the other parts of the movement are existing highways. The new movements will be different every time at the start, and it won't be clear exactly where they lead, but the old highways will retain their structure - enabling you to find new paths without losing the old ones. Each time you execute a technical movement, you pick the highway you want to build, and you trust your body to follow the other highways.
Watch out NorCal. Today Carl Paoli helped me find the moon on muscle ups! Now I know what "fastest situp of your life" feels like - I'm planning to spend the next few weeks building my highway :)
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