Kriegel Robert J. - Inner Skiing

ToMaharaji
withgreatest respect
and gratitude

TG

Withgreat love
to the memoryofmy
father, Arthur Kriegel

RK

S ince the publication of The Inner Game of Tennis in 1974, it has been most interesting to observe the radical changes in how skiing is taught. I was surprised to find that many professional ski instructors were eagerly exploring the ideas presented in that book, even more than were most tennis instructors. Well before I decided to coauthor Inner Skiing with Bob Kriegel, ski instructors at Vail and Aspen were actively applying the Inner Game principles and techniques to the teaching of skiing.

Although I did not know it at the time, this interest was due in no small measure to the groundwork and pedagogical leadership of Austrian-born Horst Abraham. Abraham was the director of education and development at the Vail Ski School and served in the same capacity for the national organization of ski instructors (PSIA) for thirteen years. Educated in Vienna, he had earned the highest certification status in Austria, France, and Germany as a ski instructor, but early in his career he began to openly question the validity of the authoritarian Austrian teaching style. He finally left the country, pressured by the Austrian ski gurus who felt challenged by his desire to innovate. Coming to America, he found a supportive reception in Aspen and later in Vail, where he combined broad knowledge of ski techniques with the ideas of psychologists Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, and other educational thinkers. Gradually, the ski world saw a refreshing shift away from rigid uniformity and toward teaching and learning methods designed to explore and facilitate the natural learning process.

So in the mid-seventies when Abraham invited me to address the assembled body of ski instructors at Vail Mountain about the Inner Game, I was surprised to find over two hundred instructors assembled. I started my talk by trying to explain how the principle of nonjudgmental awareness applied to the teaching of skiing. Within a few minutes, I noticed that although the instructors seemed to be listening, they were sitting in rather defensive positions in their chairs. Guessing the reason, I immediately changed directions. Dropping all references to skiing, I shifted the focus to an account of what I had learned about the natural learning process while teaching tennis. Immediately the defenses dropped. The instructors shifted forward in their chairs and hung on every word, laughing and clearly making connections with their own experience. When I finished, they expressed their appreciation with a standing ovation.

Afterward, instructor after instructor came up to talk with me and in effect said the same thing: You know, Tim, its the same in skiing! Really? I would say, feigning surprise. In what ways is it the same? With professional competitiveness out of the way, the instructors were willing to openly discuss their observations about the efficacy of simple awareness of edges and skis, turns, or even gravity. They also related anecdotes of how that self-critical, overcontrolling voice I called Self 1 was as much of a hindrance on the ski slopes as on the tennis courts.

As in tennis, the skier was at his or her best only when the mind was quiet and focused. Then skiers experienced the spontaneous excellence that was characteristic of Self 2 in all sports. It became obvious that instructors and students alike needed to become adept at quieting their judgmental, overly analytical Self 1 in order to gain access to the innate and magical competencies of their Self 2.

Ideas like these might have been considered too far out at that time if Abraham had not paved the way for them. Fortunately, he and his colleagues on the Education Committee knew enough to assemble specialists in the field of biomechanics, education, kinesiology, and psychology so it would be difficult to easily dismiss such new thinking and practice. As ski instructors experimented with this more student-and learning-centered approach, many found that they could help skiers avoid much of the frustration and awkwardness previously thought to be a normal part of learning to ski. When the traditional request to conform to proper form was replaced with an open invitation to explore possibilities, students became more in touch with their bodies. As a result, their inherent natural learning abilities had a better chance to emerge.

Soon there was an energetic, ongoing conversation in the skiing community about fundamental principles and techniques of teaching core skiing skills. One of the reasons ski instructors could move ahead of the coaches of other sports in understanding the learning process was that they had regular interaction with one another. Unlike the pros at golf and tennis clubs, most ski instructors are part of ski schools that often comprise hundreds of instructors who meet together, teach on the same mountain, and have daily occasion to discuss and debate learning and teaching ideas. Moreover, the methodology used by any particular ski school could add or detract from the schools reputation and thus become a significant factor influencing the profitability of the resort. Revenues reflect the number of new beginners attracted as well as the retention of repeat students. Therefore, each school wanted to be known as having the most advanced and user-friendly methods of instruction.

Yet it was because of the intellectual leadership of people like Horst Abraham, a true educator, that the conversation reached higher degrees of sophistication. Through his leadership, a new approach to ski instruction called the American Teaching Method emerged. ATM combined an understanding of the human learning process with new observations about effective technique in a way that was very distinct from earlier Austrian dogma. It presented the international ski world with an alternative to the European domination of ski teaching and brought with it a greater focus on the student.

Around the same time, Inner Skiing emerged on the scene and became popular enough among skiers to make The New York Times Book Reviews nonfiction best-seller list. The book showed how skiing could be learned directly from experience. There were two keys to learning from experience. The first involved a heightened, nonjudgmental awareness in the moment. This awareness was gained by paying ever-increasing attention to what happens in different parts of the body, as well as to the precise action of the skis on the given terrain. The second key was the simple trust in ones potential gained directly from experience. The skiers who learned how to trust themselves improved their performance without having to rely on a menu of dos and donts issued by instructors to make