Todd Mead’s Blog

  I was less than 5 when my father loaded me into the white car with black trim and drove me to a piece of land on the next road over from where we lived. Although he had never shown much emotion, I sensed the excitement coursing through his veins that day. He pointed at the field that had a few small pine trees in it and said, “We’re going to build a house here.”

  Since 5-year-olds don’t usually comprehend the enormity of life-changing things like that, I smiled and asked if I could play in the field on the hill. He granted me my wish, and I sprinted over rocks and slithered through the tall grass, not knowing that I would learn many facts about life on that same piece of land — a piece that I still return to almost daily.

  A few years after exploring that piece of land, I found myself lying my head on my pillow every night just a short distance down the hill from where Dad had made a path. Although I didn’t walk on it often, I watched from the backyard and wondered what drew him to it every day. Instead of exploring the reasons, I continued throwing rocks into the air and hitting them with sticks that I fetched from the side yard.

  Standing in the driveway, I went through the lineups every night. The visiting Red Sox would begin the game with Jerry Remy leading off, hopefully setting the table for the likes of Fred Lynn, Jim Rice, Dwight Evans, Butch Hobson, Rick Burleson, Carlton Fisk and Yaz.  If the rock didn’t clear the road in front of the house, it was an out. If it towered over the trees and power lines, it was a home run. Of course, the line shots were singles or doubles and anything else was an out.

  After the Red Sox batted, the Yankees would come to bat. Mickey Rivers would usually lead off with a double down the line. Willie Randolph would follow him and move him over to third on a sac fly or a bunt. Then, the heart of the order would come up, with Thurman Munson, Reggie Jackson, Craig Nettles, Chris Chambliss, Roy White, Bobby Murcer and Oscar Gamble, depending on who was in the starting lineup that day.

  I would stand on the hill and hit one rock after another for hours on end. I never got sick of it and would do it until my hands bled. A state trooper even stopped one day to tell me I had to clean the rocks out of the road. When Mom called me to come in at night, I would glance up the hill and see Dad walking back and forth on his well-used path — the path that led to nowhere. As much as I loved hitting the rocks and participating in Yankees/Sox classics in my driveway, the path beckoned me to explore it, ever so slowly reaching out to me and motioning with an invisible index finger as if to say, “Come this way.”

                                           The Decision to Follow

  As the days passed, I trudged up the hill while Dad walked back and forth on the path. When he would return to the end where I was waiting, I would stand behind him and get lost in the mystique of everything going on around me. The silence was deafening and brought a tremendous sense of peace with it. Lost in time, my mind became quiet. It was completely aware of everything around it, but it was focused — and at peace. 

  Walking down the hill to the house that night, something inside me told me to take the chance. It whispered into my ear, “It’s okay to follow. Stroll down the path and see what’s there.”

  I listened and took a chance. Before I knew it, I was enjoying myself in the backyard. The path wasn’t very long, but my attention span was so short I couldn’t remain focused long enough to walk on it like Dad. I enjoyed feeling the soles of my boots against the barren ground, but it didn’t captivate me enough to make me want to return very often.

                       Returning After Being Away for a Few Years

  As my teen years led me toward the entrance into the adult world, I found myself on that path regularly. I went there to search for answers — answers that I could not find in normal places. The path quickly gave me confidence and inner-strength. My visions about life become much clearer.

  Then, one day, everything came crashing down around me. I brought something up the hill with me without having permission to do so. It was one of my father’s cherished items. While walking back and forth on his path — which had become our path – I broke the item.

  Heartbroken and in tears, I sat in the grass and sobbed. I knew how much this thing meant to my father, and I knew that I had let him down. I had not been responsible, and my parents had always taught me to be responsible for my actions.

  After telling Mom what had happened, I chewed my fingernails off while waiting for Dad to get home. She told me I would have to explain to him what had happened. As soon as I saw him walk through the door, I started crying as I blurted out the story. 

  He never raised his voice or broke his expression. When I finished, he took my head into his chest and told me that everything was going to be okay. He explained that sometimes mistakes happen and we need to make sure we do everything we can to keep from making easily avoidable mistakes. In the background, Mom’s lips creased together as a smile formed on her lips.

                                            Enjoying the Journey

  Many years have passed since those early days on that path. Although I still walk along it now and then, I have made a few of my own. But that original path I walked so many miles on has brought me across the country and allowed me to achieve the highest of highs and experience the lowest of lows.

 Now, like when I was younger, I walk the path to achieve internal peace. My mind remains calm when I’m at the beginning of it and remains there until I decide to step aside and focus on other things. I’ve walked on it to combat anger. I’ve gone there to find understanding and reason. I’ve shuffled back and forth in hopes of achieving goals. It has brought many new things and people into my life. Some of these people have become lifelong friends, and others I only knew for a short time. I carved out the path to become my own. We all have a place in this world if we can find our way to it. Start walking now and enjoy the journey on your own path — your feet will bring you to where you belong.

  I walked into the Hudson Falls High School auditorium on a Sunday afternoon a little over a month ago and didn’t know what to expect. Although I was being inducted into the Wall of Distinction, I certainly didn’t feel deserving of the honor, especially when I thought about the thousands of people who have attended the school and gone on to achieve high levels of success across the globe. After all, I’m not a doctor, lawyer, engineer or CEO, I’m just someone who has found a way to follow his passions to many places of notoriety in some of the largest outdoor media outlets in the country.

  I mingled amongst people in the audience before taking my seat in the front row. As I waited for the ceremony to begin, my uncle tapped me on the shoulder and told that a woman in the back of the room was asking if someone could let me know she was looking for me. 

  As I made my way up the aisle, I saw that it was Mrs. Ahrens, my 10^th-grade Public Speaking teacher. Her smile washed over me and warmed me from head to toe. She expressed her happiness for me and told me how excited she was that I was being inducted. I was overwhelmed when I saw her. I hadn’t seen her since I had graduated from high school, and I could tell that I had made her day, just as she had made my day.

  After following the National Honor Society students as they led us to our seats on the stage, I hemmed and hawed about winging my speech or reading the one I had written. Not knowing when I was going to be called to the podium, I decided to let it play out in its own time.

  Luckily, I was able to listen to three inductees before being called to the podium. Walking to the microphone, I felt good about everything. Although the recognition was somewhat overwhelming, I felt confident about the speech I was ready to give.

  While speaking, I felt calm and in control telling my story about different teachers and how they made long-lasting impressions on me that have helped me throughout my life. I spoke a little bit about former classmates, my brother, sister, mother and father. The audience was engaged in the speech and gave positive feedback throughout. When I was winding toward the end, I realized that maybe my picture and biography inside the trophy cabinet outside the lunchroom will inspire a student – or two or three – to chase dreams that don’t revolve around their careers or employment.

  My route to the wall has been somewhat different than most of the others, as I have worked a job that has allowed me to pursue a rich life, not one filled with wealth. I changed career paths early and realized that my hobbies were unique and would require a job in which flexibility could help with the traveling and vacation time needed during certain times of the year. Somewhere along the line, I got sucked into corporate America and all of the petty bullshit that goes along with it, including watching people in cliques take care of each other, unqualified people advance through the ranks, people waste time all day in meetings, and the list goes on and on. In the old days, it used to get under my skin. I applied for 20 consecutive jobs and didn’t get one of them, even though I had legitimate experience as long as a football field compared to most of the applicants. The same excuse was always given to me. I became numb to the words, but they still ring through my head: “Well, we have decided to go in another direction,” or “We selected someone who is more qualified.”

  I listened to it time and time again. Finally, it got to the point where I really just had to laugh and realize the ineptitude of the people I was dealing with. They weren’t the Jack Welch’s of business. Instead, they were just riding on the corporate America train that was sitting at the train station in small-town America. You see, small-town America can be great in many ways, but it can eat people alive in others.

  When the curtain was drawn back, and I saw my biography under my picture, I smirked and laughed. Most people would probably be proud of an accomplishment like this one, but I glanced at my parents and felt proud of them. This was for them, not for me. They didn’t give me free handouts along the way, which definitely helped when I experienced the long line of rejections. I was taught from a young age that I needed to work and do the best possible job I could, even if I didn’t respect or like my superiors. My parents reinforced the fact that I should never let any one person affect the quality of my work or my work ethic. I learned the lesson well.

  I have always done my best to produce quality work, no matter what I’m doing. I could be writing poetry, outlining a book, competing in an archery tournament, speaking to students in high schools, giving seminars at outdoor shows or in church functions, or just going to my Monday-Friday job. My work ethic has carried me to the top of the ladder in everything I’ve chosen to pursue…….except in corporate America. That is a head-scratcher to many people I’ve worked with in different organizations. They can’t fathom it, but I tell them that I really don’t mind because life is about making the most out of it and inspiring others to be the best people they can be. 

  Standing back and looking at the new inductees, I realized that I had accomplished another goal: I have made a difference in people’s lives. I could never ask for more than that. I’m glad I attended the Hudson Falls Schools in my younger years. The experiences I gained readied me for the real world, just as I spoke about in my induction speech when I talked about Mr. Foro never having favorites and putting people in positions to succeed if they outworked others. So many teachers prepared me for life, even though I never knew what they were doing at the time. Yes, I did gain more knowledge in math, science, business, history and English, but the real lessons didn’t involve schoolwork. 

  I’d just like to say thank you to everyone who has been a part of my journey. It might have been a few short words in the cafeteria, or maybe a five-minute conversation at the 20-year reunion, or even a laugh or two during story time in elementary school that settled in my soul and directed me to the places where I’ve found an incredible amount of happiness. 

  I’ve been saying this since I was 30 years old, and I continue to say it today: “If I die tomorrow, you don’t have to worry about a thing because I have lived a complete life. I have done all of the things I’ve wanted to do, and I have allowed myself to become so deeply immersed in the things I’m passionate about. I would never want it any other way. I enjoy life more than anyone I’ve ever met, and it’s not because I make millions of dollars, travel around the world, or hang out with famous people. Instead, I enjoy life because I was fortunate enough to find myself at a young age, recognize who I was and what I needed, and I learned to feed my soul with passions that drove me to succeed. I have chased dreams of following my passions and living a fulfilling life, and those dreams have become reality.” 

  When I tell people that, they look at me like I have two heads and can’t fathom what I’m saying. The conversations I’ve had after sharing my thoughts on the subject make me realize how incredibly lucky I am. I definitely chased the right dreams, not the pipe dreams that bring nothing but money and material belongings. After all, what do those things do for your inner peace and happiness?

  Tonight, just like every night, I feel like the luckiest person on Earth. It’s an unbelievably exhilarating feeling. Immerse yourself in your passions and let everything else become secondary. Your life will become richer than the life of the wealthiest man alive. While that man is ordering off the high-dollar menu after parking his Ferrari in the parking garage, I am trudging through the snow in the darkness. My boots are wet, my socks are crinkled near the toes, and I can feel the sweat trickling down my neck and into the crease of my back. Looking at my watch, I know I still have another mile to get back to my truck. The rain has turned to frozen pellets mixed with snow, but I’ve had the best day I ever could have asked for in the woods. I spent the day with the man who first brought me there when I was 6 years old. Now, he’s 72, and I am 50, and I am still walking on the path less traveled, the path I chose when I decided what I wanted from life.

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It was a raw, rainy day in November of 1983 when I made my way to the junior high library. I had finished my homework for the day and decided to go to the library during study hall to read outdoor magazines.

When I entered the quiet room, I headed to the magazine rack with nothing on my mind except grabbing the current issues of Outdoor Life and Field & Stream magazines. I knew the November issue would focus on deer hunting, and I wanted to learn as much as possible so I would be able to show my dad I was ready to go with him on his adventures and prove to him that I had a small bit of my own useful knowledge that I had gained from sources other than him.

As I flipped the pages of Outdoor Life, I saw a hanging pole in front of a tent. The bucks on the pole were beauties, and the guys in the picture looked like rugged woodsmen, men that could survive in the wilderness for days on end.

Reading the article, I quickly learned that the men were from my hometown, and the picture had been taken at their camp in the Adirondack Mountains. Instantly, I longed to one day find myself in one of these mega-giant magazines. Outdoor Life and Field & Stream magazines were (and still are) the two magazines that every outdoorsman wanted to read throughout the year, but especially during November. If I could ever make my way into them, I would know I had accomplished something. It would be similar to a middle-school basketball player dreaming of being featured in Sports Illustrated, then seeing himself in it when he gets to college or the pros.

I read the magazine for many years after seeing that article, and that article stuck with me since that day. It was a defining moment in my life, something I will never forget. As many people in my era have never forgotten where they were and what they were doing when Mike Tyson got knocked out by Buster Douglas, I have never forgotten the day I read that article.

Amazingly, a few years ago, I was featured in an article about the rut in Outdoor Life, and my dream had come full circle. I still smile when I think about my journey through the years to complete that circle.

Well, a few months ago, Scott Bestul from Field & Stream contacted me, after being referred by Randy Flannery, and asked if he could talk with me about some of my tactics that have led to my success. Instead of feeling like an interview, Scott and I just talked a lot about deer hunting. In all reality, I guess I talked a lot about deer hunting. I’m sure I probably drove Scott crazy by the time we were done, but it felt good to correspond with someone who gets it; someone who could relate to the things I was saying and understood where I was coming from with everything discussed. When we finally finished chatting, I felt like I had a new friend even though I wasn’t sure Scott would be able to use any of the information I gave him. After all, I just talked willy nilly about all sorts of things, with no real rhyme or reason behind any of it. I guess that’s what deer hunting does to me. It puts me in another world and makes adrenaline surge into my bloodstream. After the conversation, I felt like I would be welcome in Scott’s living room, and I can assure you that he is now welcome in mine. My friendship with Randy started in similar fashion, and I’m glad he has thought of me in a number of different situations.

Recently, I saw that the October/November issue of Field & Stream magazine had hit the magazine racks, so I picked one up at the local grocery store and began flipping through it. When I came upon Scott’s article, I smiled to myself when I saw that I was referred to as an expert. In many ways, I wish I was an expert. Deer hunting, especially when you’re after mature deer, seems like it’s the ultimate mental and physical challenge.

As many of you know, I hunt all over the country. I can easily say that I’ve never had what I would define as an easy hunt. Although the article says my home state is Maine, it’s not. I call the Adirondack Mountains in New York my home, and that is where I cut my teeth on deer hunting. I return there every year to try my hand, always hoping to pluck a few good cards out of the deck… but it’s never easy. I love the challenge it brings. It tests my inner fortitude every season. It pushes my mental state to the limit, whether I tag out on the first day of the season or the last. It does the same when I’m in the Midwest on heavily hunted public land. I wish I could consider myself an expert, but it all comes down to the fact that I can usually outwork and outthink others. Hunting is a hobby for me, but I love the work I can put into the hobby.

As I read through the article, I saw that I was included with many great hunters in the industry. When I saw my name next to Mark Drury’s, I felt a sense of pride. He’s one of the most widely recognized TV personalities in the industry and has been in that position for many years. He’s the mad scientist of deer hunting…. yet in my mind, I’m still the seventh grader who is headed to the library to read the deer hunting articles in Field & Stream and Outdoor Life.

Although there are only a few tidbits from me in this article, to be in included with the other guys is humbling. I still see myself as the boy behind his dad while trying to learn as much as possible to be successful on his own in the deer woods.

Looking back at the days I trudged behind my dad, I’m now beginning to realize that all of those lessons, even the silent ones, taught me everything I know about deer hunting — and life.

On Saturday, I sat in my stand and listened to flocks of geese making their way south. Flashing back in time, I could remember a cool, crisp night when I heard one flock after another on that annual migration that still exists today. I could hear deer walking on the ridge above me but never saw them. When Dad came back to pick me up at dark on the way back to the truck, he told me I might want to think about moving onto the flat above my stand. It was a simple lesson, but one in which I learned a great deal. I learned quickly that I always have to adapt to the things going on around me. I can never be satisfied with being stagnant and hoping the deer find their way to me. Instead, I need to react and put myself in the right place at the right time.

I’m thankful to have been recognized by some of the titans in the outdoor media world. It allows me to realize how lucky I have been on my journey. There are a gazillion guys out there who could easily outdo me in the woods. Somehow, members of the outdoor media found me; I didn’t go looking for them. I’m thankful for the friendships that have been created through these outlets. I will never forget the raw, rainy day I strolled down to the library and imagined being featured in either one of the outdoor magazines. Now, that I’ve seen myself in both of them, it still seems somewhat unbelievable, and it probably always will. I’m just an Adirondacker who has been able to travel across the country hunting with my dad and a few incredibly selfless friends, friends that have made it much easier to succeed. Those guys don’t get nearly enough credit, whether it’s Doug Vaughn, Brian Pino, Josh Morse or a handful of others. They deserve more credit than I do. They are the guys who push me to be better, and they teach me things that help me while I’m in the woods trying to figure the game out every year, for the game never stays the same from day to day, week to week, month to month or year to year. The game is always changing, which is why so few people find regular success. Being able to quickly adapt is what matters most.

My roommates were loud and obnoxious, but I stayed behind the closed door to the quad family room and kept my nose in the books. I needed to get in as much studying as possible. My exam was the next day, and I still felt a little shaky about a lot of what would be on it.

Anxiety always smashed me in the face as I prepared for college exams. Unfortunately, the anxiety usually followed me into the classroom, and my eyes would stare at the paper as my mind went completely blank. I could study for hours on end and not gain a thing from the studying. Although I wasn’t cramming on this evening, I had a similar feeling that coursed through my veins. My adrenaline spiked so I could feel my heart rate accelerating.

When that happened, I knew it was time to take a break. I would go to the dining hall on the hill above my dorm and grab a bite to eat before finishing my studying. Knowing what I wanted to eat, I drew the two types of insulin into the syringe and injected it into my upper leg. A quick pinch made me acutely aware that diabetes sometimes requires people to go with the grind and fight each battle when it presents itself.

When I got to the dining hall, I went for the quick and easy food. I had a few pieces of pizza and sat by myself to eat it. Although I wasn’t on any type of schedule, I knew I had to get back to study. Random thoughts raced through my mind, and all of my attention was on the exam I would be taking the next morning.

After finishing my meal and heading back to my room, I knew I had to have enough insulin to compensate for my meal. That’s when I made a critical mistake that would’ve cost me my life if it hadn’t been for my roommate, a guy I never knew before meeting him that first day of my freshman year. We were able to coexist quite nicely, with him doing his thing and me doing my thing. Things worked so well the first year that we decided to be roommates the next year. In that time, he educated himself about diabetes and what to watch for in case I ran into any problems.

A few hours later, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and my head fell gently onto my pillow. The studying had taken its toll, and my body needed the rest.

The Next Morning

I’m not sure how to start this, but I’ll give you a brief history of what happened according to my friends. My roommate got up and went to his first class. I didn’t get up because I didn’t have a class until 10:00 a.m., the class in which I would be taking my exam. When my roommate returned, I was completely unconscious and didn’t respond when he tried waking me up. Now, I’ll let you inside my world as I saw it, felt it and heard it the next morning.

Seeing a handful of nurses and a doctor standing over the bed in the ER, I could sense an organized chaos. My limp body laid on the bed while a part of me floated above it and looked down. Extremely bright lights surrounded me, and I could hear the people talking — actually shouting as I remember.

With my back on the ceiling of the room like I was lying on my belly in mid-air, I watched the people. The doctor shouted, “Get him, Get him again. You’re losing him.”

With that, I saw my body convulse as the paddles jolted my body on the bed. Then, I could hear the people’s voices, but none of the voices said anything that I can remember after that original statement from the doctor. Instead, I could hear a few of my relatives that had died many years earlier. I could hear them as clear as I could when they were alive, but like the other people, I couldn’t grasp what they were saying. Voices I would never forget, voices that belonged to people who were once a part of my life.

All of the commotion lasted only a few seconds before the lights faded and everything went black. It happened in the snap of a finger. I’m not sure if I fell, if someone whacked me on the head with a pan, or if I just got lost in a really deep unconscious state. I will never know.

When I opened my eyes, my parents were sitting next to the bed. They asked me if I knew what was going on. I had been in this situation a time or two in the past, so I knew I was in the hospital due to a low blood sugar problem. I tried processing how they could’ve gotten there so quickly. They lived over two hours away, and I knew I couldn’t have been under for that long.

For a long time, I never said anything to anyone about what happened in that room in the ER that night. I was scared that nobody would believe me. Would they think I was crazy and want to send me to an insane asylum? Would they think I was must messing with them? Would someone else share a similar experience with me? I didn’t know what to expect but figured I would be better off if I just let it go.

A short time later, I read in a magazine about someone who had an almost identical experience. This allowed me to dive straight in and share my happenings with others. As I began talking about it, people reacted in many different ways, but it was therapeutic for me in a way that is unexplainable. I shared it in print, then I went on to talk about it a few times here and there. Although I never felt totally comfortable with it, I never shied away from it.

Today

I’ve thought about that day many times since it happened. The 30-year anniversary of it is coming up in a week or two. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it, but I always remember it like it happened last night. It opened my mind to possibilities that many people will never experience. I feel fortunate for the way everything went down and how it worked out. I’m thankful that my roommate knew what to do to save my life. I think I love life more than anyone I know, at least anyone to whom I have spoken with over the years. I love everything it has to offer. Yes, there are some downs with all of the ups, but the challenges along the way are what mold each and every one of us. I wake up every day and can’t wait to live every second of it to the fullest. Everyone says I should slow down and not always be on the go. I don’t like living in the slow lane. I’m only going to be here so long, and I want to take advantage of the time I’m given. The next time I begin to float into bright light and see my lifeless body below me, I might not be able to come back and tell my story to others. That is why I will be on the road again this weekend making more memories with my friends and family.

  Not knowing what to expect, I sat down last week to watch the movie about Queen. If any of you think this is a movie review, you are in the wrong place. Instead, the movie brought me back to a time in my life that became vividly clear as one scene rolled into the next. I could see sights, smell aromas and hear noises.

  It was the early ‘90s, and I had recently completed my undergraduate studies. I was working two jobs, not knowing what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go. Then, my world was turned upside down when my mom sat me down and informed me that she was going to have a major surgery. After being filled in on the risks, I tried ignoring the many thoughts running through my brain and did so for the next few weeks. 

  When my brother walked through the front door of my parents’ home a few days before the scheduled surgery, I suddenly became aware of the depth of what we were facing: moving on in our lives without my mother there to experience our ups and downs and comfort us along the way.

   The surgery would take a full day and not many of the same type had ever been done. The long list of complications associated with it were mind-numbing, especially the one that generically shows up at the end of any precautionary warnings that people are handed before they go under the knife. I had been informed enough about this surgery to know that the last thing on the sheet of paper was an actual reality with this surgery. I could only hope and pray that things would work out in our favor, but I had also learned that when it’s our time, it’s our time. There’s no stopping it, and in this game of life, nobody gets out alive, even though some will last much longer than others while trying to navigate inside the walls of the maze.

  So why did the movie about Queen and Freddie Mercury bring so many emotions to the forefront for me? Well, my brother had come home a few times prior to my mom having surgery, and during his trips, he had brought many different friends with him, friends who had a unique way of dressing. They wore flashy sport coats and unique hats, almost emblematic of the things seen on Michael Jackson’s videos and in Prince’s performances. These people – and my brother – seemed different, like they were living on the edge, in a world that hadn’t become socially acceptable yet. Maybe, just maybe, they were changing with the times and I hadn’t caught up yet to what was happening in the fashion world.

  Although my brother had dated a very nice girl before he left for college in Montana, I now suspected that something was different. My brother seemed to mix well with his new friends, and some of the friends seemed feminine.

  It was in the low ‘80s the day my mother got operated on. I made sure I didn’t have to work so I could be there while the doctors tried performing a miracle. Sitting in the waiting room, my palms began sweating and my breathing became choppy and shallow. I needed to get out of the sterile building and allow my eyes to take in the bright blue sky. 

  Watching my brother, I sensed that he needed the same thing. He clenched his hands together and cracked his knuckles before reaching behind his head and locking his hands together around the back of his neck and extending his head up and back while rolling his shoulders. He tapped his left toe against his right toe and pushed them into the floor and pushed his heels into the air. I could see the tension in his calves when he held the pose for a few seconds before dropping his heels back onto the tiled floor. His fidgeting made me concerned that there was something beyond my mother that was worrying him.

   When he asked me to walk out of Albany Med and go to Washington Park to sit down for a bit, I accepted his offer. My inner-self had made it clear that I couldn’t do a damn thing in that waiting room – except wait. I could wait outside in the fresh air just as easily I could wait in the stale, dull waiting room, where sickness and death were permeating through the walls and down the halls

  As we made our way down the narrow sidewalk toward the park, he began talking. Although he wasn’t really feeling me out, I don’t think the words that were coming out of his mouth were exactly as he wanted to put them. He seemed in tune with the ways of the world and knew a lot about the phenomenon that was creeping across America – AIDS. People had been dying, including some of his friends, and he seemed lost in a world filled with people who were running scared from gay men. People, in their stereotypical fashion, believed that AIDS could jump off these men and find a new home in others’ bodies. At that point, the odds were not good for anyone diagnosed with the disease, and most people knew that a positive diagnosis was a death sentence.

  After making our way to a bench in front of the pond in the park, we silently observed the ducks in the water. Five ducklings followed their mother in single file, some sticking their heads into the water to retrieve unlucky minnows for a meal. The V that formed behind them gave me a gentle reminder that as quiet as it seemed, another creature’s world was being rocked by the tiny movement of water cast aside as the ducks continued swimming toward the fountain, just as my world had quickly begun to experience something that could be compared to thunderous waves crashing against an ocean dike.

  The few minutes of silence was deafening. Although I couldn’t hear my brother’s thoughts, I could see them racing around the track inside his mind, not knowing how to free themselves from captivity. Then, as clear as the blue sky above us, I listened to his voice as words began to flow like the rays of sunlight finding their way through the leaf-covered trees across the pond.

  Within minutes, I came to learn that the wait was eating at him like a pack of hyenas devouring a freshly fallen gazelle that was battling to stay alive. The tone of his voice never changed when he told me his nerves were shot from waiting for the results to a “test.” Although he never told me the name of the test, I was certain that it wasn’t the last civil service examination that had been given a few weeks earlier. 

  With numerous people, including famous actors, musicians, and some of his friends, falling like flies, he was waiting for the results from the same test that had told many of them a story they never expected to hear. After all, the disease came on in full force, and the players had minimal to no chance of survival. I realized that he needed to share his thoughts with someone. At the time, it probably seemed safe to share them with his youngest sibling, so I sat quietly and listened.

  After the brief exchange, we got up and made our way to the waiting room. As we walked up the hill along the side of the street, we shared a few laughs and truly enjoyed the rays of sunshine that could be seen in every direction. The dark shadows from the large buildings kept us hidden, but they couldn’t hold us back. I gently patted my brother on the back and said, “Everything is going to be okay.” 

  I’m not sure if I was trying to convince myself, him or the unknown presence in the sky above us when I spoke. I was talking to anything that would hear me, and I was praying with everything I had that my mother would come through the operation. Not only was that weighing on my mind, now I had to worry about my brother. I loved him, and it didn’t matter if he was straight, gay, bi, yellow, purple, black or red: he was my brother, my only brother. 

  After that day, we never spoke about what happened. As the years passed, it seemed like the moment in time that I experienced with him was a dreamlike image that found its way into my thoughts every now and then out of nowhere. Although I still worried about him, I came to learn during that week that when it’s your time, it’s your time. There’s nothing you can do about it when the time comes. It doesn’t matter how big or small you are, and it doesn’t matter how rich or poor you happen to be. Death has no favorites, and nobody survives the game of life: there will be no last man standing.

  Now, almost 30 years later, “Bohemian Rhapsody” found it’s way onto my television, and I was thrown back to this time.  Along the way, I had almost forgotten the battle my brother faced in one of the scariest times in the United States. The younger generation probably doesn’t have a clue about it, or if tit does, it certainly will never grasp the fear and paranoia that spread across the heartland, from the big cities to the mountains. People were afraid to touch anyone who might be carrying the AIDS disease. Maybe I was ignorant to the ways of the world, but I always looked at my brother as my brother, and I’ll be forever thankful that he survived the scare. I was always sad for him, knowing that he had lost many close friends and even a few iconic people he looked up to, including Freddie Mercury.

  I’m not sure why I wrote any of this when I sat down, other than it’s the first thing that found its way into my mind. I’ve always respected my brother. I would do anything to be as smart as him, and I’ve always been fascinated by his intelligence. There are very few things in this world that he doesn’t know something about. He also has more historical knowledge stored in his brain than most people could comprehend. When he was chosen as one of the top students in the “Who’s Who of American High School Students,” they picked the right person. Although he’s a family member and I might be somewhat biased, I haven’t met many people who can compare to him.  I have always admired the variety of people he knows and speaks to on a daily basis. His circle of friends and acquaintances never ceases to amaze me.

  Now, we have drastically different lifestyles than we did when we were growing up, but each of us has found our place in this world, and we have flowed down the river of life just like the water that trickles down tiny streams, finds its way into rivers and eventually mixes in with water from all over the world when its journey begins again in the ocean. 

  My mother still looks over both of us as if we are still young children. She has survived the test of time, and both of us couldn’t be happier about that. We never could have asked for a better mother, a mother who gave so much of herself to make sure we found our way on the paths we chose to follow. She never discouraged either one of us, and she has always given us confidence and reassurance that we are doing the right thing. She let us make mistakes and learn from them, even if she knows she should step in and warn us of what might happen.  It has always been obvious how proud she is of both of us, and that pride can carry a person a long way, especially when you know your existence means the world to the one who gave you life.

  I’m glad that “Bohemian Rhapsody” brought me back to that summer day when my world could’ve easily caved in and the sinkhole could’ve swallowed me. Instead, we all learned a lot about each other, and we have never stopped learning. Change is constant, and we cannot predict what might happen from minute to minute, day to day, week to week, month to month, or year to year. That’s why we should all enjoy every day for what it is: another day to be ourselves and enjoy the life we have been granted. You don’t get a second chance so go create your own music and sing your own songs. You might just be amazed where the trail will lead you if your willing to take a chance and follow it when it appears brushed in and hard to see.

This past week was a blur. I had far too many irons in the fire. Having to get my presentation ready for the Big East Outdoor Show made things on the archery end a little difficult. On Tuesday afternoon, I made my way to the physical therapist’s office for the first time in about six years.

Since my therapist is always concerned about my progression as an archer, he knows how to give me the proper guidance to rehab injuries the right way to get me where I need to go with the bow and arrow. It made me feel pretty good when he looked at my reports from the orthopedic surgeon and told me that he thought he could have me right back on the right track in a short amount of time. Of course, it would be up to me as to how fast the recovery comes along, as I will have to stick to the plan and do the necessary exercises.

When I was at work on Tuesday, I listened to Episode #206 of the Wired to Hunt podcast:

Wired To Hunt Podcast #206: Taking Control Of Your Archery Future and Target Panic with Joel Turner

Everyone should give this a listen. I’m pretty sure that many of you will greatly benefit from this, as I know I did. For many years, I thought was doing the right thing when I focused on my process. I always talked my way through the shot and when I got to certain steps, I consciously told myself what to do next. This became a problem at different times because my conscious mind went into overload, especially indoors when I felt a little bit of pressure.

A call the monster the Evil Monkey. The Evil monkey sits on my shoulder and talks nonstop. All of my friends know about the Evil Monkey. When I come off the range, some of my friends tell me that they had a lot of monkey chatter going on. This is when your mind won’t shut off while you’re trying to shoot. The mind runs wild from the time you draw the bow and runs right through the entire shot. That cute little pet monkey on your left shoulder can — at times — turn into a raging gorilla.When the monkey chatter starts, it overtakes your mind.

After listening to this podcast and applying what was said, I couldn’t believe how easy it became to shut my entire mind off by occupying the conscious mind with the perfect thoughts, thoughts that do not interfere with my shot routine. After listening, I also think that some great shooters don’t have to worry about things like this, however, many shooters like us Joes need to focus extremely hard on that stuff. Each person reacts to things differently. Finding your own process to follow is extremely important. I’m excited about this new chapter I’m going to begin working on. I have a great feeling that the way I will focus on the process going into the future will make me become more consistent and help with my nerves, which sometimes come out when the raging gorilla begins punching my brain.

As long as we’re on that topic, I’d like to give a shout out to my buddy Andy Bush, who shot 59 xs at the New York State Classic to win that event. I met Andy three years ago at the IBO World when I was lucky enough to have him in my group. Although he struggled a little bit that day, I could easily tell that he had great potential. His shot looked pretty clean, and I really liked him as a person. To see him come out with that win made me feel pretty good. He obviously had the pet monkey on his shoulder today and not the raging gorilla. Great job, Andy.

After listening to the podcast, I began working on my new process. I shot a couple of 660 rounds. I shot a 638 on one of them but felt like I executed a lot better than the score indicated. I also shot a 628, and the execution that night felt even better. I seem to be having a little problem with the arrows missing out the left side, barely. I think it might be from not trusting myself to move the sight. I shot a 447 in league this week. I ended up going back to my 35′ 3D and hunting bow, which makes me feel the most comfortable. I felt pretty good about the scores I shot with my 3D setup and small arrows. Hopefully, I keep progressing in the right direction. Here’s one of my rounds…….the very last end.

This week I’ve been fielding a few questions from people about a variety of questions. It made me think back on a day in the early 2000s. Although I had been doing well, I felt like I had suddenly hit a brick wall. I was performing like Jeff Hopkins on my personal 3D range, then I’d head to the national tournaments and fall well short of my capabilities, you know……..I’m Roger Staubach in my own backyard. I like the way my buddy Chuck Weeden put its, “I’m Chuck Beaubouef in my basement Nerves were making me come unraveled, something I’ve battled for many years. Sometimes I’ve beaten the beast, but the beast still rears its ugly head from time to time.

When I knew I needed to do something to calm my nerves and allow me to relax while shooting, I began searching all over the internet for different things I could do. Finally, I settled on a few of them. I signed up for meditation classes and Tai chi classes. I knew Tai chi was very similar to archery in the ways that mattered the most. I also figured that the meditation would help me to have a clear mind.

After going to meditation classes for a week, I stayed after one of them finished and told the instructor about the issues I was having at national events. I asked him for any advice he could give me since I was headed to the ASA Pro-am in Battlecreek, Michigan, the next week. He looked at me and said, “Do this: after every shot, get a little bit behind the group, and focus solely on your breathing. Do this every single shot of the tournament and see what happens.”

I had nothing to lose………….so I gave it  whirl. When the scores were totaled after the first day, I couldn’t believe that I was sitting at the top of the pack. I knew the next day would be really tough, but I went in with the same plan as the first day. I could feel my nerves, but I stayed to myself and focused on my breathing. The little bit of meditation that I had done in the classes was already beginning to work. I was finally able to clear my mind. Evil Monkey quietly slid down my arm and walked into the forest around the targets. He blended into all of my surroundings. Evil Monkey disappeared for those two days. When I walked off the range at the end of the second day, everyone was patting me on the back and congratulating me. They all thought that I had won the event, but my buddy Johnny had snuck up from a few groups behind me and got the victory. I was happy for him, and I was ecstatic about my progress. I shot to the best of my ability that day……….I simply got beat, and I didn’t beat myself. That was an incredibly feeling.

After that day I continued to meditate. I got to the point where I could do it easily, and shooting became much easier with a quiet mind. Along the way, I got off track and stopped doing it, even though I encouraged others to do it. I’ve realized recently that I need to start doing it again. It helps you in every aspect of your life. My buddy Chuck Weeden can vouch for it. I told him he needed to try it. His entire family noticed the difference, then he went on to shoot he highest score in a tournament shortly thereafter. That’s how I knew that this little thing that might take only 5-8 minutes a day has great effects. I challenge everyone reading this to attempt to meditate for seven solid minutes. See what happens and let me know. You can google how to meditate. It’s not a hard thing to learn the basics and what you need to do. You will be amazed at how incredibly hard it is to have a quiet mind. If you can get to the point where your mind is quiet for even 30 seconds when you try it that first time, I will be really impressed and might even give you a prize. Try this exercise and let me know what happens.

Okay, enough of all of that. It’s time give my archer of the week profile. This week it goes to Mark Meyers.

I’ve known Mark for a very long time. Mark has always reminded me a little of myself. He kind of blends into the backdrop and watches stuff around him. He’s one of the most observant people you will ever meet and one of the best people you will ever know. Although I’ve helped a lot of people along the way, I always send people to see Mark when they get to a place where I think they need more than what I can offer. One of the best things about Mark is that he’s never satisfied. He wants to offer people the best of everything. Although he’s a very successful coach, he even sees other coaches, like Mike Price, who he respects a great deal, to help him with his own shooting. Between those two coaching minds, I’m sure they can figure a lot of things out. If you ever want to advance your game, both of these guys are great choices.

Anyhow, back to Mark. He used to always be in the hunt at every type of tournament he attended. Eventually, he decided to focus more on bettering other archers and spending less time on his own game. Amazingly, when he does shoot, he still shoots well. He made the cut at the IBO World a few years ago and had a great showing. Yesterday, when he made a post about Jacob Slusarz, his student, I could see his pride. But his pride wasn’t for anything he did, rather, it was for Jacob’s win. Mark has helped many people become better archers. I’m extremely fortunate that he lives in my area and I can call him a friend. I know I can be a pain the ass at times, but he’s always willing to listen to me and give advice. A few years ago, he even watched me at the Lancaster Classic when the camera was on me for an extended period of time. He told me to call him when I got home because he saw something I might be interested in learning more about. I respect that about Mark. He knows I would never be insulted because he’s just trying to make be better. I feel fortunate to have his eyes on me, as well as Mike’s help from this winter. Between the two of them, I’m hoping to improve as time moves forward.  Mark also represents Darton Archery. I know that Ted appreciates everything he does, but until you actually see what he does, it’s hard to imagine. If you see Mark on the 3D range in New England or New York this summer, make sure to say hello and ask him any questions you can about the Darton bows or coaching. He’s extremely knowledgable about a lot of things. After conversing with him, you’ll feel a little smarter on your way home.

Now that it’s staying light later into the day, it makes me want to go outside and shoot my bow. Unfortunately, this weather is making that all but impossible, at least to do it comfortably. I made the dreaded trip to the orthopedic surgeon on Wednesday morning. When I made the appointment for my shoulder about six years ago, it was much different. I knew that something was seriously wrong. The elbow issue hasn’t struck me like the shoulder issue did. Instead, the elbow issue has been a nagging injury. It has never felt like anything too serious, but I also know I can’t let it go. I needed to ease my mind.

The visit went about like I had expected it would go. When I injured the elbow last summer, I never really took the time to let it heal. In hindsight, my choice wasn’t the best thing that I did last year. I gritted through the rest of the summer and added insult to injury. Although my shooting went extremely well, the pain never subsided. On many days, I could barely hold the bow steady while aiming.

I let the elbow rest for the three fall months when I spent the majority of my time in the woods, and it was relatively okay for the first few weeks of shooting indoors. Now, I know that the issues I’ve been facing are the result of a former injury and the loss of strength in my arm, which affected the area from my elbow to my wrist. I’m going to start physical therapy for it on Tuesday and take it from there. My mind feels pretty relieved.

After I found out that I couldn’t damage it by shooting, I headed to the range to gut it out. I’ve always been one of those guys who needs to shoot arrows to stay fresh. I can’t pick a bow up after not having shot and shoot well. I’m not sure why, but that’s just the way it goes.

Although I didn’t spray arrows all over the place, I definitely wasn’t too excited. I spent Friday night working on feeling my shot. I’m not sure why, but I can’t find it. It feels like it jumped off the side of the boat while I was drifting around without any paddles.

Things improved a little today. I have my 3D arrows shooting okay out of my 3D bow. Although the arrows are small, I shot a round to see how they were working. The round definitely wasn’t anything spectacular. I ended up with a 444 and not many Xs. I took it as a plus since I haven’t shot at all in a few weeks. Looking at the target, my first two bullseyes had most of the arrows in the 10-ring. The final bullseye that I shot didn’t look so good, and I’m not sure if it’s because I was tiring out. All in all, none of the arrows missed the 10-ring by very much. Something about the bow felt a little bit off, so I went home and started trying to figure things out.

I took the 29′ module out of one of my bows and put the 28.5 back in it. That was definitely a good start. I also put four twists in the string of my other bow to suck it up a little bit. Afterward, I went outside and shot both bows at 40 yards. I was impressed with the groups I shot, and I even broke a few arrows. The bow I changed the module in felt much better than the other one. I think the reason is that the back wall is rock solid with no give to it at all. I think that feel is important for me right now, as I’m trying to determine what draw length is going to allow me to perform at my highest level. I’m shooting 57 lbs on both bows, and that poundage seems to be comfortable.

Throughout most of the winter, I’ve been looking after Logan, my buddy Aron Stevenson’s kid, on Friday nights at league. He’s been working on some things, and I’ve been a silent private eye in the background. Like most seasoned archers, he got stuck on the score thing and started getting irritated when he wasn’t putting all of his arrows in the middle from 20 yards. Meanwhile, for his age group, he should be shooting from 10 yards. The little guy is competitive but almost too competitive.

We all know what that attitude can breed. Sometimes it can make us try too hard and other times it makes it hard to get the pin up into the middle. I had to convince him that where that arrow landed didn’t matter. This was a chore! All of you should remember this lesson, too. Don’t try too hard and put so much pressure on yourselves to score well. Do all the little things the right way and the good score will just appear on your scorecard.

That’s when his mom had to step in and give him a little speech about shooting to have fun and not taking all of the enjoyment out of by getting upset about a score that didn’t live up to his expectations. As the weeks have passed, he has gotten a lot better. He has been asking me to watch his shot and critique it. His shot has been looking fantastic the last few weeks. The only problem he’s been having is pulling through the click on his release at times.

When we approach the target to score his arrows, he tells me that his pin wasn’t anywhere near the middle when it went off, and there’s no way the arrow should be in the white. That’s when I had to tell him a story, a story I’ll share with all of you because I’m sure many of you have run into the same issue along the way.

Have you ever shot those shots that had no business being in the middle? Well, I have, and I know exactly why some, not all, end up in the middle. Many years ago, I attended a shooting class with Alexander Kirillov from PSE, and he put a laser on my bow. I couldn’t see where the laser was hitting, but I knew he had it set up so the movement could be recorded on a target a few lanes away.

He told me to shoot five of the best shots I could shoot. When I drew the first arrow, my legs began to shake, and my upper body joined the party. After shooting all five arrows, I couldn’t believe that they were all inside out Xs on a 5-spot target. I walked over to my father and said, “I don’t even want to see the video.” He responded, “I think you’re going to be surprised.”

I knew that I had seen the dot in the blue ring two times, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how those two arrows got in the middle. Well, as he was going through the videos and showing how different people held on the target, I was amazed at what some people did while executing their shots.

Then, he got to my video. He told everyone to watch closely because he couldn’t believe how steady I held the bow. When I saw it, I was amazed. Instantly, I saw why all of the arrows were inside out Xs. The two times I thought I saw the dot fall into the blue ring, it actually just barely hit the bottom of the X before bouncing back up toward the center. As nervous as I was while he was filming me shooting, I couldn’t believe my pin stayed that still on the target.

When the class ended, the coach asked if he could see me in private in one of the back rooms. I gladly obliged, and I’ll never forget what happened. He pointed his index finger at me, and said, “Listen closely. I have some advice for you.”

Then, he grabbed my left ear before latching onto my right ear with his other hand. He said, “Do you feel these?”

I responded, “Yes.”

He said, “You must learn to work on what is between the two of them. If you do that, you can compete with anyone.”

It’s something I have never forgotten. So to make a long story short, I told Logan that he was probably seeing his sight pin in a different place than where it actually was when the bow went off. He was unsure of what I was saying, and I could tell that he was trying to process it…………..just as I had tried to process everything I saw on the video that day.

Is it confidence that helps us shoot well? You be the judge.

The weekend after attending that class with Alexander Kirillov, I shot in the annual Guan Ho Ha Vegas tournament. Like any tournament I had participated in, I was pretty nervous at different times throughout the tournament. I had shots that were pounding out the center and had no idea how the arrows were finding their way to the middle. But I really did know how they were getting there, even though I didn’t want to acknowledge it. The same thing was happening that happened when I was being filmed, and I just trusted my shot. Trusting your shot when you think the pin is dancing all over the map makes shooting much easier. Over the years, I’ve become a master at trying to over aim. I’ve also become a master at letting my conscious mind talk to me throughout my shot process, which slows everything down and makes every shot a battle. When I peeled the target off the cardboard at that Guan Ho Ha shoot and tallied the score, I had shot 41 super Xs, and I knew it was because of the confidence I brought with me. It’s amazing what can happen if we allow ourselves to trust our shot.

This week’s shooter highlight goes to my longtime New England shooting buddy Rick Baker.

I’m not sure when it was when I first met Rick, but it was a long time ago. It could have been at one of the old Budweiser shoots in Merrimack, NH, back in the day, or it could have even been at one of the New Hampshire state shoots or one of the IBO Northeast Triple Crown shoots. Anyhow, none of that matters.

In my opinion, Rick is the best all around shooter in New England. Many guys are fantastic shooters at one thing. Some are great 3D shooters; some are great indoor target archers; some are great field archers; and others are great outdoor target archers. Rick is always at or near the top of every venue he performs in. When I shoot with him, he always seems to make it look easy. Going back 20 to 25 years, I feel like he has always pushed me to be better. I think we have a pretty even record if we go back across the years. We both never get too high or too low, and we shoot our bows because we love to shoot arrows. I know that it helps both of us to deal with personal stress.

There are two things in Rick’s career that I will never forget. The first one is when he smoked the field in the qualifying round of the IBO World at Snowshoe. He was basically unstoppable. Unfortunately, he did a little too much celebrating the night the qualifying wrapped up. The next morning didn’t treat him so well, and he paid the price for it. I don’t look at the final day, though, because I have to excuse it due to the unforeseen circumstances of the night before. If I remember right, I think Rick thought he had won the tournament. He didn’t realize that he had to shoot the next day until it was too late. Any way you look at it, he put on an incredible shooting display.

I also remember him going arrow for arrow in a shootoff at the Lancaster Classic while hundreds of other archers stood on the line watching. I probably would have come undone, but he stood there like he always does and just kept on shooting. I’ve always been amazed by his ability to hold the bow steady under pressure. If I could transfer anyone’s nerves into my own body, I would probably take Rick’s. It seems like he never gets too wound up about anything. I think that’s probably why I shoot well with him when we shoot together. Although, I can’t prove that by any of last year’s performances when we shot together.

I’m always appreciative of his advice, and I’m thankful that we met back in the heyday of 3D archery in New England.

Until next week ——————-> shoot straight.

This week passed quickly, but the archery part of it dragged. I’m fairly certain that the dragging action is going to make its presence known as I look toward April. Although I spent Monday and Tuesday working on some bows, the pain in my elbow wouldn’t give in and allow me to shoot. I realized that I need to leave my bow in the corner when I look at it and thoughts of shooting it cross my mind. The elbow has not improved at all and has steadily declined into an area that made me realize that I need to make an appointment with an orthopedic doctor. I’m going to get on that tomorrow.

This winter has walloped me with unanticipated problems. Unfortunately, I haven’t been healthy enough to make any forward strides involving the changes I’ve made. It’s rather discouraging, but I guess it’s one of those things that I must face now that I’m headed toward the senior class. Things don’t heal as quickly as they did in the past and paying attention when your body talks to you is important. I’ll keep you updated on this as time moves forward.

Although I wasn’t able to shoot this week, I did talk to a lot of people about many different things that relate to archery. Recently, I’ve followed a few things on the internet that make me laugh a little and realize how long I have truly been at this game. Many people who are relatively new to the sport don’t have a clue about the past and the people who helped to bring this game to higher levels. It’s amazing to see and listen to the people who admire people who have never won anything. I guess it’s all about how you carry yourself. When it comes to archers who aren’t professionals, I’ve noticed that I usually gain the most from the quiet ones, the ones who don’t have to pump themselves up for the rest of the world to see. Humble people have a tendency to draw me in. I like them because they act like they’re one of me. I’ve always tried to do the same. Although I’ve never won a professional event, I’ve won some pretty big money tournaments in which professionals participated, and I’ve won in the SPM class as well as all of the amateur classes I’ve shot in. Most people wouldn’t have a clue, and it reminds me of a few things that I’ll share that I’ve never been able to forget.

I can remember being in the top one or two peer groups going into he last leg of the IBO National Triple Crown on three different occasions. Since I’ve never worn a collared shirt or a shooter shirt — unless I was told I had to — I can usually fly under the radar, which is exactly what I like. On more than one occasion, I’ve had people look at the score cards after receiving them and do a double-take at me before saying, “You’re Todd Mead?”

I usually look around, raise my eyebrows and say, “Yup, I guess I am if that’s what the scorecard says.”

Then I get, “Wow, I always imagined you were a tall guy.” I still haven’t figured out if that’s an insult, but I always think it’s funny. It brings me to a point I’ve thought about this week and I know it happens to other people. Sometimes shooters get intimidated just by a person’s name, even without knowing the person. If you find out you’re on the same bale as one of the big dogs or if you have followed a person’s success and realize you are now in the same group as that person, it can quickly deteriorate your mental game if you aren’t prepared.

In all of my years of shooting, I’ve always performed my best in peer groups, and I think that’s because I feel mentally stronger than my competitors. I think that many amateurs get intimidated or they worry about the outcome. They become overly nervous and the train can run off the tracks if they don’t get everything in check. Although I’ve never been great when I shoot in peer groups that have some of my friends in them, I usually excel when I don’t know the others that well. I think it’s because all of my concentration and focus is in one place, and that place is where I put everything I have into finishing the job. I will never forget the time I rolled off 9 11s on a 10-target loop at the IBO National Triple Crown while in the top peer group. One guy looked at the other guy in my group, shrugged his shoulders and put his palms out to his side and held them upward while he mouthed, “WTF” after I shot an 11 on the last target of the loop. I saw him do it when I turned around, which made it even funnier. It was probably because my equipment looked like I had dragged it through the mud, with my 20-year-old sight on it and rusted bolts from not having moved the stabilizer connectors in as long as I could remember. When you’re in a peer group, all of your energy should be focused on getting the job done, not trying to avoid the pressure. I think it’s a learned skill and I feel fortunate to have gained that knowledge along the way. Although my equipment looked like hell, my mind was centered. When I was done that day I was mentally drained.

I’ve realized that you have to have that killer instinct when you have a chance to win. I’m never happy with an “also ran”  congratulatory hug when I’m done with my round. Our chances to win are so few, that when you have once of those chances, you had better be mentally prepared to take full advantage of it. The chances are fleeting in the amateur divisions, otherwise you wouldn’t find yourself there. Instead, you would be somewhere in the pro ranks.

So what have I done to allow me to get it done when the time comes? I always mentally rehearse the scene. I do it for every tournament I go to that I might find myself in a peer group or on a top bale at the end. I take the time to think ahead and see myself shooting winning shots over and over and over. I also write in my performance to remind me that I’m a winner. I also focus on things I need to work on. If the same item keeps showing up, I know I need to nip it in the bud and get after it. For anyone who wonders what my performance journal might look like, this is an entry from 2015, one of the years I won the IBO World Championship. When I drew the bow on the last target, I knew I needed a 10 to at least secure a tie. Amazingly, when I drew the bow, the pin settled and the arrow hit a lick below the 11. I made a perfect shot when I needed it.

Here’s a journal entry from late May of that year, and I’m referring to one of the New England IBO state championship tournaments:

“I started off OK today but hit a few speed bumps on the way out of the gate. I was tense most of the day and found myself stagnant at times. I need to work on my shot timing in the coming days. I need to continue working on letting my subconscious mind shoot the shot. Once again, I proved today that I can grind out a good performance when I’m struggling with my shot. I made some fantastic shots, including one on a strutting turkey, one on an antelope, one on an alligator, and one on a walking black bear, along with many others. Overall, I shot a lot of good shots. I earned the win today because I was mentally stronger than the field. I’m a finalist at the IBO World Championship because I know to perform well at big tournaments. I don’t over emphasize the importance of any shot. I’m a champion because I shoot one shot at a time. I shoot my best under pressure. I’m the IBO World Champion because I’ve shot the same winning shot thousands of times, whether it was in my backyard or on the tournament trail.”

Yup, it might sound corny when you read it, but that was in May of that year and the IBO World Championship was in August. I wrote this down every day in my performance journal after I practiced or shot in a tournament. Then, when the time came, the shot I needed to make was incredibly easy.

I won’t carry on about this, but you get the idea. If you want to achieve goals, you need to write them down and put yourself in the place to win them before you get there. Otherwise, you won’t be mentally prepared and the moment could suck you up and swallow you. I’ll be the first to tell you that most of the big tournaments I’ve won in the last 25 years weren’t because I was the best shooter. Instead, I won because I was mentally stronger than the guys I was shooting against. It pisses people off when they get beat by a person whom they don’t consider as good as them. People talk shit and say, “Oh, the best shooter didn’t win.” Yup, you got that right, but I was the most mentally prepared and my shooting was good enough to beat the so-called best shooter. Instead of saying stuff like that, people should take a step back and realize that maybe, just maybe, they should spend more time working on their mental game because great shooting will only get you so far. The winners do things that others don’t see and that is how they know how to win. That is also why you see the same people return to the winner’s circle or always be within sniffing distance of it. Do yourself a favor this spring/summer and be diligent with writing in your performance journal and working toward goals. A goalless archery will never achieve a goal……….and isn’t it everyone’s goal to do something? Isn’t that why we shoot?

Well this week’s shooter recognition award goes out to the person who has driven me to be better since the early ’90s. I can still remember reading about him in 3D Times, which was a big publication at the time for 3D archery. Everyone read it and everyone subscribed to it. Everyone hoped to see his or her name in it from a big finish at a national event. I read all about how Scott Tozier had won the IBO Indoor World, which was a big tournament at that time. He took down some of the big guys in doing so. When I read about it, I realized that this guy lived in New York, and I wanted to meet him to see what kind of game he had as compared to my own game.

That’s when I decided to head out to Active Bowhunters in western New York to shoot in an IBO qualifier. I wanted to see where I stacked up against this guy. Putting too much pressure on myself to do well, I shot a 5 on the first target, a strutting turkey that was down off from a steep bank. The next target I got an 8 on a ram. I figured I was done, so I just started shooting my bow. By the time the day ended, I had a score of 289, with 10-8-5 scoring. I only shot one more 8 on the next 28 targets, and it was a tough course. When I got home and saw the scores, Scott Tozier had beaten me by 2 points, meaning he also shot a 5. That was the kickstart to my competitive nature in the 3D world. Since that time, we have both been in and out of archery, and we have both found a lot of success along the way. Scott also has that killer instinct. Sometimes both of us have a hard time getting going, but when we do get it right, we usually finish the job. I’ve lost track along the way, but I think Scott has won four or five IBO World Championships in at least four classes.

Having said all of that, one of my most memorable times is when Scott beat me by an X to win our indoor state championship, and he and I shot together in the team event and only dropped one point between the two of us on  a Vegas round, which gave us a win. That’s what I love about archery; it gives people some unforgettable moments.

I’m glad that I’ve been able to call Scott one of my best friends over the years. We spend a fair amount of time talking about different things, and I know that it has helped both of us. I’m appreciative of his ears and his knowledge. If you surround yourself with knowledgeable people who shoot well, you will definitely get better. Having this guy in my corner for 20-s0me years has worked wonders for me.

Well, the past week had a lot of highs and lows in it. I was looking forward to going to Turning Stone casino to participate in the Wintercam Classic with my buddy George. Unfortunately, George fell on some black ice and did some damage to his knee. Without being able to put any pressure on his leg, he was unable to make the trip with me. The incident kind of reminded me of what happened to my good friend Scott Tozier last year. He was peaking and shooting some of the best scores of his life when everything went out the window due to an unforeseen injury. It’s always disappointing when this happens, because you never know if you’ll get back to that level after rehabbing a serious injury.

The week started off incredibly bad as far as scores go. When I headed to the club to shoot in my Tuesday night 450 Vegas league, I didn’t feel well and knew I shouldn’t go. Instead, being bullheaded, I hopped in the truck and headed to the range. My energy was at the lowest it had been in a long time, and my body ached. Without very much energy, I didn’t know how things would pan out.

It didn’t take long for the wheels to fall off the bus. Instead of pulling over into the breakdown lane, I kept the throttle on the gas. When I help people, I always tell them to carry it through until the end, even if it’s one of their worst days of shooting. You never learn much on your very best days, but you can learn a tremendous amount on your bad days if you pay attention and write it down in your performance journal. Yes, everyone should keep a performance journal if he or she truly wants to track problems and find solutions to fix the problems. If the same things keep showing up in this journal, you will know that you’re not working hard enough to correct those issues. If new problems arise, it gives you faith when you look back at your journal and realize that you can figure out methods to combat your problems and confront them head on.

Well, when I was done for the night, I had shot the lowest score I’ve ever shot on a Vegas round since around 1992 if my memory serves me right. I shot a 430, and I even totally missed the target one time. Being tired, I lost back tension and couldn’t save the string from lunging forward. The end result was an arrow that hit the bale on top of the target. Yup, shit happens. When the night came to a close, I didn’t need to write anything in my journal to analyze at a later date. Instead, I identified that I shouldn’t go to the range when I’m that tired and my body aches. Sometimes, even if you’re committed to a league, you just need to stay home on certain nights. I won’t put myself through that again. Without having any energy, it was impossible to function at an acceptable level. That was the lesson of the week as far as leagues go.

I spent some time outside since the weather was so nice. I worked on my long-range shooting. It felt really good, and I shot some good groups. I don’t have much to report on that front, other than I had really good marks heading into the indoor 3D Wintercam Classic.

When I got to the Classic, I was able to shoot a handful of practice arrows, but I’ve never been much for shooting a lot of practice arrows before a 3D round, so that didn’t bother me a bit. When I came to full draw for my first scoring arrow, I was surprised with the wave of nerves that hit me. I didn’t really expect them, but they were definitely there, front and center. With the nerves going full bore, I was unable to hold well enough to shoot at the bonus rings, so I tried to hold as good as I could in the 10-rings and execute the best shots I could. As with any tournament, I calmed down as the shooting progressed. By the seventh target, I felt like I was holding well enough to start aiming at some of the bonus ring. I hit my first 12 on shot number eight and ended up shooting six 12s and a few eights in my last 12 shots. I considered that a really successful round.

As with any tournament, I didn’t know what to expect when the bell rang for the second shooting session. When I hit full draw, I was surprised to have no extra pin movement. It didn’t take me long to understand what was happening, and I knew I had to take advantage of it. I put the pin on top of the 12-ring and executed a great shot. The arrow found it’s mark. The same thing happened to the next two shots, and I barely missed the 12 on the fourth one. I knew I was rolling. I had a few long shots on the next end, so I played relatively safe and aimed where the 11 and12 rings connect. One arrow found its way into the 12 and the other just missed. With confidence building and sitting at a solid 12 up, I decided to go for it. Unfortunately, I had a little bit of a bobble on the next shot, and it hit a hair below the 14 ring and in between the 12 and 14. The arrow scored as a five. The next arrow barely missed the 12 ring and landed in the eight-ring. Between the two arrows, they probably missed by a combined total of 1/8 to 1/4 of an inch.

That right there brings me to my next topic. Think about this……….there’s a lot of luck in this game. If I had about 1/8 of an inch on a ruler, I could have accumulated 13 more points, putting me at 424. But then I have to think about all of the ones I got lucky on, too. I had two arrows that were on the bottom side of the 12 and were barely licking the line. They are four points that easily could have gone the other way, which would have put me at 420.

Far too often we get overly concerned about the score. We talk about other people and say, “what the hell happened to so and so………..or I can’t believe so and so shot that well.” In the end, should we really even look at anyone’s score and pass judgment? No, we shouldn’t.  I shot really well this weekend considering all of the changes I’ve made. I’m thankful for Mike Price offering to help me, and I’m trying my hardest to work on the things he told me I needed to work on. It has been tough.

In my adventures on the tournament trail, I’ve been really lucky to have won some really big things. I’ve learned one thing that is constant in these wins; you definitely have to shoot well. But you also have to get a little lucky. That’s why we are Joes and not pros. Many pros don’t need the luck because they repeatedly pound the same holes and have no flaws in their execution. I’ve won some things in which I definitely didn’t shoot my best, and I’ve lost many more things in which I couldn’t have shot any better. You should always keep that in the back of your mind. I’ve also learned that if you put yourself in the position to win and you’re not winning, eventually your time will come, but when that time comes, you need to be mentally prepared to drop the hammer on your competitors. That’s why you can’t lose confidence and consider yourself the first loser when you don’t win. I barely missed the cut with my new shooting form this weekend, and the main reason I did that was because I had too much tension in my release hand. But I did put myself in a position to have a shot at it, and I couldn’t ask for more than that. You should never forget where you came from if you start winning. In my opinion, the best winners are the humble ones. If you’re a Joe, or even if you’re a pro, you can quickly go to that arena of fallen bull fighters. It only takes getting poked in the ribs one time by the bull to knock you out. Some people recover, but others never find a way back to podium.

I’ve also learned that many of my friends battle the same things. Paul Bertrand shot a great score, but he said tension in his release hand held him back in the beginning. It happens to everyone, so don’t think you’re the only car on the highway when you’re driving through the place in your mind that can become really scary at times. There are others who are on the same road that you’re traveling. Take a step back, look around, see the shooters on the line and realize that 98% of those guys are on the same exact road that you’re on that you think nobody else is traveling on.

I apologize for being so long-winded with this one, but many things came up over the weekend that made me think about a variety of things. I did realize that I really need to find a way to work on relaxing my release hand while setting up and executing. I’ve always battled with finding the perfect amount of tension to have in my hand while holding the release. It feels as if it’s too tight or too loose at different times. I’m fairly certain that if I can figure out how to beat that demon, I will be able to be much more consistent.  Here are my cards for the weekend. Although I would have liked to have done better, I’m really satisfied with it. It could easily have been a 424 with a hair tiny bit of luck.

After seeing Jon Brown post his staff shooter profile appreciation things lately, I’ve decided to do the same thing on here. Every week, I’m going to try to say a little something about certain people who have been a part of my journey and have had an effect on my game. The first one to get the nod in this is Shawn Couture.

I think I met Shawn when he was still in the youth class. Although he’s not much younger than me, he’s young enough so that I’m glad I never had to compete against him in the youth class. Shawn has always been one of those people in New England whom I respect the most. It’s probably because he’s  humble. The guy is a phenomenal shooter and has posted some pretty impressive scores in target archery and on the 3D range. How many people can never judge yardage and still show up at a regional 3D event and run with all of the big dogs? Well, Shawn has done it on more than one occasion. I can’t remember if it was when I was shooting in the Open B class or if it was when I was shooting in Semi-Pro, but I was the last one to show up at my stake at the ASA Pro-Am in Roanoke, Va., and I was glad to see that Shawn was on the same stake. I’m not sure, but that might have been about 20 years ago. Shawn wasn’t the only lefty in the group that weekend. Rob Luke, from Pennsylvania was the other one, and Rob ended up winning the tournament. Over the years, Shawn has always listened to me as I exhale all of my issues I’m battling. It’s pretty hard to find someone’s ear who understands my language, but Shawn has always been that guy. Next time you see Shawn on the range make sure you give him a nod. He puts a lot into archery and always has a good attitude. He also works toward making the sport better in our region. I’ve even heard that if everyone keeps their ears tilted, he might be working on a project that we will all appreciate. Anyhow, thanks Shawn for always listening to me babble and giving me the vote of confidence that I need from time to time. It has never passed by me without being appreciated.

Since I enjoy shooting a bow so much, it sometimes becomes rather difficult to listen to my body when it talks to me. For the last few weeks, my joints, tendons and muscles have been telling me that I need to take a break. Being bullheaded, I blazed forward and figured I could beat the damn pain. Well, sometime that’s just impossible.

This week I wasn’t able to do very much with my bow(s). The injury in my elbow has gotten progressively worse and really flares up when I shoot one of my bows. I’m pretty sure it’s because of the amount of shock that is distributed into my arm when the arrow jumps off the bowstring and is launched forward. Trying to deal with the pain has been a chore and has eliminated most of my actual training. This week I was only able to shoot on my two league night, and I probably shouldn’t have even done that.

My hold was halfway decent on Tuesday night. I made a lot more good shots than bad ones. I ended the night with a 446 and 27 Xs. I feel like I’m finally starting to flatten out a little and gain some consistency. Amazingly, I can easily identify why I miss when I miss now. I also know that it I follow the steps properly, I will shoot every arrow in the middle. If I leave something out or try to rush through a step or two, I will usually miss, even it the miss isn’t by much.

I’ve been missing a few arrows at 6 o’clock lately, and after talking to George about it, I’m pretty sure we figured out exactly what is happening. I’m getting a little dipping and bobbing as I get into the shot and it fires right when the pin is at the bottom of the circle. I’m pretty sure I’m losing just a tiny bit of back tension, which is resulting in the low misses. I will make sure to work on maintaining the same pressure throughout the shot to keep this from happening in the future. If the same thing continues, I will know that I haven’t properly identified the 6 ‘o’clock problem.

I was unsure what to do on Friday night because of the pain in my elbow. I knew that I couldn’t shoot the bow that jars my arm, but at the same time, I felt like I could shoot as long as the bow didn’t beat me up. I quickly sighted in Mark’s bow and put his sight back on it. To my amazement the arrows hit right behind the pin when I made good shots. This was an incredible difference from last week when I struggled with the bow while trying to get it to group. Looking back at it, I found the problem. I recently traded a sight online and the problem was in the sight. Supposedly, it was a brand new CBE Vertex. Upon receiving it, I could see where there were a few scuff marks on it, so I knew that someone definitely had their hands on it, even if he didn’t use it. The quick detach would not lock down without having all sorts of slop in it, either. With the sight doing that, it wasn’t returning to the same place after the shock of the bow moved it, causing the arrows to spray. I lost all confidence in the bow, but in reality, it wasn’t the bow.

After shooting the bow through paper and getting the arrows to make a bullet hole through paper, I knew that the tune on it was pretty close to where it had to be. I knew I shouldn’t be getting the shots that were appearing in the target. As I continued shooting the bow, I started losing confidence. I thought it was me making bad shots, even though I knew the shots weren’t that bad.  Finally, I made two perfect shots. The arrows both scored as inside out Xs on the Vegas target. The third shot was as good as the first two, and the arrow landed dead high in the 7-ring. That’s when I instantly realized I wasn’t the reason behind the bad grouping. After further study, the sight was to blame.

Although I tell people all the time to pay attention to this stuff, I ignored what I tell them. If you are a good shooter, and you’re making good shots, the arrows should hit behind the pin or pretty damn close to that spot. If the arrows aren’t hitting there, there is most likely a problem with the equipment. You have to trust your form before your confidence takes the hit. Confidence gan be extremely hard to regain once you’ve lost it, and in turn, it could lead you to begin making bad shots for no reason at all. Trust your form, trust your shots and don’t be afraid to blame it on the equipment. But be careful when you start transferring the blame to your equipment. There’s a fine line between equipment problems and YOU problems. If you don’t shoot well in a tournament or on league night, don’t start blaming the equipment for something that has to do with your imperfect execution.

So by the time Friday night league got done, I felt pretty good about my shooting. I had an extremely hard time holding the bow steady because the draw length on Mark’s bow was about 1/2 inch short. I’m going to get the modules from him tomorrow to see if it makes things better. Although I only shot 51 Xs, the round felt a lot better than that. I got out of the gate with five Xs, but the next round saw the round take a downhill turn when I only anchored two Xs. Once I got into the round, I felt like I could shoot really well with the bow if I had a little more draw length. I went from hating this particular bow a week ago to realizing that I think I really like it. Actually, the only reason I didn’t like it last week, was because it was frustrating the hell out of me when the arrows weren’t hitting behind the pin when they should have been. The handle on the bow felt good, and I liked the way the bow reacted when I shot it. Now, after adding in the right let-off stops for me, the draw length became too short. I’m excited to try it with the correct mods on it not that I have the right stops on it.

I won’t be shooting much this coming week due to the elbow issue. Although I’m headed to the Wintercam Classic next weekend, I don’t expect much. It’s really hard to set something up this time of year to shoot at 3D targets when I’ve been shooting at paper. I also don’t have much ambition to stand outside and wing arrows in subpar weather. I did go outside on Wednesday when it was 70 degrees to make sure my marks were close. I shot a pretty decent group at 50 yards, so I think I’ll be able to keep them in the scoring rings.

Remember as we make this final push of the indoor season to concentrate on the things you’re working on. If your main objective is to have a successful 3D season, then you need to really make sure you focus on making good shots. The size of an average 10-ring on a 3D animal is considerably larger than an X. Pounding Xs isn’t that important as long as you can make good shots and keep them in a kill that’s the size of a small deer. That’s why many times in the amateur ranks of 3D, we see people win who don’t necessarily pound paper. It’s a different game that doesn’t require the pinpoint accuracy in many cases. Have fun and don’t over-aim. Confidence is everything in this game. As you saw earlier in this post, it comes in goes in the snap of a finger. Pay attention to your confidence, because as your confidence goes so does your shooting.

Here’s the group I shot at 50 to get my 50 mark.