Look Where You're Headed
blog.quinefoundation.com
blog.quinefoundation.com
Prompts to “look straight ahead” and such in a gym context are usually so you maintain the correct position of your neck and avoid injury.
> And if you look straight down while lifting a weight, your back and neck will do bad things they were never supposed to do.
This property was used amusingly in Neal Stephenson's novel "Zodiac": since drivers steer where they look, wearing bright, high-viz clothing while cycling increases the chance you will be hit by a car. Thus the only way to cycle safely in Boston is to use the "ninja approach to biking": no reflectors, paint everything black (no shiny rims, crank, etc), wear only black clothes, and no helmet so you can hear danger approaching.
Even outside of the context of sports, sometimes we can knock out 1.5 goals instead of 1 goal just by focusing on the 1 but in a slightly different way than if we didn’t know about goal 2.
This part was from Snow Crash, and was a bit of wisdom from Uncle Enzo about Vietnam. Zodiac had nothing to say about bike helmets - which, it should be obvious, don't block your ears at all.
Please wear a helmet when riding your bicycle.
But feel free to assume that every car on the road is out to kill you. Some of them are.
Taught in driving/motorcycling schools:
The personal trainer type to me sounds a bit like a regimented-thinking military type. Every marine, or soldier of any kind is taught and tries to live the “look straight ahead” way.
If it’s another way of saying “focus harder on the task at hand” - thats surely relevant… that is a kind of a limited scope dictum. But surely critical to effectiveness.
nah, it's because looking straight ahead (or, when doing squats, slightly vertically above straight ahead) keeps the neck and upper back arched and supportive. looking down rounds it over.
Matt Crawford discusses this theme at length in "The World Beyond your Head" which I highly recommend:
> This brings up another uncanny fact about motorcycle steering: the bike goes wherever your gaze is focused. Most important, if your eyes lock on some hazard in the road, you will surely hit it. This is not a superstitious motorcyclist’s version of Murphy’s Law; it is a reliable fact, and it reveals something deep about the “intentionality” of our prereflective sensorimotor negotiation of the world. Inhabiting the kind of bodies that we do, our gaze and our locomotion are connected in ways that work for us, and we don’t have to think about it. But this accomplished integration becomes a liability when riding a motorcycle, and must be deliberately short-circuited. You have to learn to unlock your eyes as quickly as possible from every hazard, and instead look where you want to go.