I returned to Italy after almost two years. Among the first chance encounters was my old “downhill guru,” the one who seemed to dance over the scree when we used to mountain bike.
He tells me how, after a couple of falls, fear has replaced his confidence. He feels stiff, clumsy, unstable.
It struck me because I know exactly what he’s talking about, and just last week, I covered this very topic in my Substack newsletter, discussing my own relationship with downhills.
The Thought That Gets in the Body’s Way
When I launch into a descent, among the rocks, my brain switches on, and my body often freezes up. I think too much: Where do I put my foot? What if I slip? Watch the ankle, bend your knees, look ahead…
All that vigilance makes me lose my flow. It makes me stiff. Thought slows down the action. There’s a phase where thinking helps, but a point comes when thinking gets in the way.
What’s Really Happening?
When we learn something new—a technical movement, a more efficient posture, how to handle rough terrain—we need conscious attention. The brain processes every detail: where to place the foot, how to move the arms, how to balance our weight. This process is guided by the prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for conscious, analytical control.
But as the movement becomes second nature, control shifts to deeper areas, what’s known as the “bottom-up” part of the brain (like the basal ganglia and cerebellum). This is the shift from conscious competence to unconscious competence: an automatic process that makes the execution more fluid, fast, and instinctive. A necessary shift to live and move with efficiency.
The problem arises when the mind—out of insecurity, fear, or after an injury—tries to take back control and starts supervising every move again. Something paradoxical happens: your body knows what to do, but you no longer trust it.
When conscious thought tries to manage what the body has already mastered, you tense up, lose your rhythm, and freeze.
Paralysis by Analysis
This phenomenon is known as paralysis by analysis, and it’s an excess of conscious attention that blocks fluid execution, especially in situations that require readiness, adaptation, and automatic reactions.
It happens in all sports: the tennis player who misses an easy volley, the soccer player who shanks a penalty kick, the downhill prodigy who misuses the brakes.
The mind interferes where it’s no longer needed, and the movement falters.
Letting Go of Control
It’s not about stopping thinking, but about knowing when it’s time to let the body take over.
Like when we learn to drive: at first, we carefully calibrate every action—turning the key, pressing the accelerator, letting out the clutch—then it all becomes automatic, and we find ourselves in motion without having consciously thought about any of the actions that got us moving.
OVER TIME, I’VE REALIZED IT’S NOT JUST ABOUT TECHNIQUE. IT’S ABOUT TRUST.
Trust that if I’ve trained a movement enough, the body knows. It’s like telling your mind, “You can relax. Let the legs lead the way.”
It’s not easy. It takes practice and listening.
How Do You Train Trust in Your Body?
Trust isn’t just trained with technique; it’s trained through embodied experience. You need to put yourself in situations where the body can act without being interrupted by thought.
Here’s a simple exercise you can do, even if you’re not a trail runner.
Run with your body, not with your head
- Go for a run by yourself, without headphones.
- Choose a route you know well.
- Don’t aim for performance: listen to your breath, your heartbeat, the rhythm of your steps.
- Ask yourself: “Can I trust my body right now?”
Don’t force an answer. Simply observe what emerges when you stop directing.
- Slightly increase your pace, without forcing it.
- Whenever you notice yourself thinking too much—how to land your foot, how much farther, how fast/slow you’re going—return to the body: “How do my legs feel?”, “Am I breathing smoothly?”
The goal isn’t to correct. The goal is to listen.
- When you find yourself thinking about the action you’re performing, take note of it, let it go, and return to your breath. To your heartbeat. To the sound of your steps.
- Slow down to a walk.
- Breathe mindfully for two minutes, without changing your breath, and ask yourself:
“What did I feel, without thinking?”
Thinking Is Useful, But Not Always.
Thought is a fundamental tool. It helps us analyze, learn, and improve, but there’s a moment when it needs to step back. That’s where fluidity, confidence, and the true pleasure of movement are born.
This is why true mental training isn’t just about concentrating more, but about learning when it’s time to let go of control.
I’m learning, one step at a time: on a gentle curve, on a stretch of loose rocks that isn’t too steep, I’ve tried to let my legs go on their own. Less control and more listening. Less judgment and more trust. Little by little, something has changed.
The body needs trust, not constant supervision. Listen to it, learn to read its signals, and then let it do its thing.
Laura Burzi