Why are we encouraging athletes to chase something that doesn’t exist?
A peak refers to the highest point. The crest. The top. The summit.
And that’s exactly the problem.
There isn’t a peak to human performance. There is no fixed limit on how much athletes can improve. We have proven that time and time again. Not long ago, sport science experts insisted the four-minute mile was impossible — until it wasn’t. What we once believed to be the finish line simply became the next benchmark.
Yet in sport, we still talk about peaking at the right time, as if performance were a switch athletes could flip on demand. As if perfection were something they could schedule at an ideal time during the season.
As a mental performance consultant, I see the consequences of this thinking in athletes who struggle under the weight of unrealistic expectations. Peak performance assumes athletes have control over outcomes. It suggests athletes can reach a desired level of performance or success. This line of thinking actively limits how athletes develop over time, particularly when coaches and trusted adults use peak performance as a benchmark to reach.
When we buy into the idea of peaking, we put a finish line in our minds. We aim for a single moment instead of long-term growth. But why would we want athletes to peak? Wouldn’t we want them to continue improving? To stay curious? To build skills that hold up long term, not just for one game or appearance?
The obsession with peaking creates pressure. When athletes believe they must be at their absolute best, every mistake feels heavy. One missed shot becomes proof that the moment is slipping away. Muscles tighten. Attention narrows. Fear of making mistakes shows up front and center. Ironically, chasing peak performance often pulls athletes farther from it.
The most successful athletes don’t spend their energy trying to be perfect. They focus on repetition. What can I repeat under pressure? What behaviors and routines can I rely on when things get tough? Consistency and reliability are what actually influence performance outcomes in sport.
Look at how championships are won. Star players have off nights all the time, but teams still win. Underdogs win not because they played perfectly, but because they stayed in it when things got messy. (As a Patriots fan who reluctantly watched a good, but not great, Giants team beat the ever-so-talented Brady and Moss to win the Super Bowl, this tracks.)
We are not talking about peak performance — that’s functional performance under pressure.
This is where we need a healthier definition of success.
Success isn’t about playing your best game every time you step on the field. Success is about showing up when it’s tough. It’s about competing with courage when confidence dips. It’s about staying connected to the task and your team even when you don’t have your best stuff.
So let’s put an end to chasing peak performance. Let’s stop defining what the best might be. Ten, 20, 50 years from now — who knows what the next generation can accomplish in sport. The best of today will be bested by the best of tomorrow. And that’s the goal. To keep building on how we define success. Not because the outcome is the only thing that matters, but because we are chasing habits that support development rather than peak performance.
What’s happening in college football right now only reinforces my point.
When success is defined by outcomes and external validation, the finish line keeps moving. The goal posts become unreachable.
Wins turn into one more day to keep your job. Scholarships turn into a nonstop treadmill. Playing time turns into a zero-sum game. NIL deals turn into comparisons — or lord knows what.
And suddenly, what once felt like achievement becomes another hill to climb just to feel enough. This is what happens when we chase peak performance.
Of course, outcomes matter. Results matter. But when they become the primary scorecard, athletes start outsourcing their confidence to things they can’t control. That’s a fragile place to exist.
In an era where outcomes are louder than ever, the competitive advantage belongs to those who know how to measure differently.
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.