When I first started playing golf at the Country Club of Greenfield, I dreaded the 17th hole.
The tee box is somewhat elevated — the fairway is narrow. It is very easy to miss right, lose a ball, or have a blind shot back over the hill and into play. It is also easy to hit a shot too far left and have to yell “FORE” into a group on the 18th.
Neither of those options was very exciting to me.
And to make the 17th hole even more enticing, the porch patrons have a front row seat to the action because the clubhouse deck overlooks the tee box. As a new golfer who often hits errant tee shots, I was intimidated.
During my solo rounds on the course, I found myself avoiding the 17th hole. I typically walk the course, so I’d walk from the 16th green waaaay up the hill to 17 and decide to walk myself right into the parking lot.
Avoiding the 17th tee.
Avoiding discomfort.
Avoiding embarrassment.
Taking the easy road.
I did this so many times I lost count. It became second nature to play through 16 and quit.
One day I was using the practice green when I noticed a golfer playing 17 and 18 and then playing 17 again. I was stunned.
Why on earth would someone play 17 multiple times?
I caught up with the golfer after they finished their round and asked what they were practicing for. They told me they hated the 17th and 18th holes, particularly during crowded days on the course, so they forced themselves to practice those holes when they were open.
What?
I was incredibly impressed. Little did I know, this golfer taught me something I’d only fully understand a year later while studying sport psychology.
Because here’s the thing — we don’t always need to experience failure to fail. Failure comes in many forms, and it often disguises itself.
What I was doing at the country club wasn’t failing — it was avoiding. And there’s a key difference.
Failure is a lack of success. It’s hitting a ball into the trees or over the hill out of sight.
Avoidance is walking to the parking lot. Deciding it’s not even worth trying.
(One could argue that’s the true failure.)
Often, avoidance feels productive. It definitely feels protective. We tell ourselves we’ll come back to it another day. We will return when we’re ready. When we’ve improved. When it’s less crowded or when we’re feeling more confident.
But avoidance builds fear. Real fear. Like, deep in the veins fear.
Every time we stiff-arm discomfort, the brain labels the situation as dangerous. Nerves and anxiety spike a little earlier next time. And we start to believe the narrative we tell ourselves — the narrative that we’re not very good.
When we stay in it, we learn to collapse the nightmare. Hitting a ball over a hill is a low-level risk. Having to yell “fore!” into a group of players is something almost every golfer will do in their lifetime. Is it a bit embarrassing? Sure. Should it prevent us from playing the game? Absolutely not.
When we do the scary thing and realize it’s not actually that scary, we build durable confidence.
I wish I could say there was some dramatic moment when I crushed a tee shot down the middle and conquered the 17th fairway forever. Unfortunately, that’s not true. But I’ve learned to hang in there with the 17th.
I’ve shared this story with many of my clients because it is common to avoid discomfort in sports — and sometimes we don’t even realize we are doing it. We avoid discomfort when we practice the things we are good at or actively try to improve our strengths. We also avoid it when we decide not trying is better than trying and failing. Is that a life worth living?
So this summer when you’re on the golf course, or playing pickleball with friends, see what you’ve got.
Play the 17th.
Carry on.
Jess Lapachinski is an athletic administrator and sport performance professional who lives in the Pioneer Valley. Jess can be reached at jl.victoryLap@gmail.com.