Why Elite Athletes Use ‘Meaningless’ Routines Before Competition

As a way to better internalize the book I am currently reading, I will be writing about each section I read on this blog. Let me know your thoughts.

The eighteenth green at our club holds twenty pairs of eyes, all fixed on an eight-foot putt that stands between me and a decent round. I step back from my ball and read the line—slight break left, uphill. The usual routine begins.

I step to the ball, feet closed. Three quick practice swings, feeling the weight of the putter. Open my stance. One full practice swing, then another, matching the stroke I’m about to make. Aim. Putt.

The ball drops.

Nobody says anything about my routine anymore. They’ve seen it hundreds of times. But I remember the early days—the sideways glances, the barely suppressed eye rolls when I’d take my time. Just hit the damn ball already.

What they didn’t understand then, and what most people miss about pre-performance rituals in general, is that those thirty seconds weren’t about superstition. They were about control.

The Control Connection

That golf routine wasn’t my first encounter with the power of ritual. Years earlier, during high school basketball season, I had a different kind of preparation that teammates found even more puzzling.

While they blasted aggressive rap or rock to get pumped up before games, I’d slip on headphones and listen to Sublime—slow, mellow, almost sleepy music. The contrast was stark: twenty minutes before tip-off, they’d be bouncing off walls with adrenaline while I sat quietly, letting “Santeria” wash over me.

“How does that help you play?” teammates would ask, genuinely confused. The answer seemed counterintuitive: I didn’t want to be amped up. Basketball, despite what highlight reels suggest, is a game of finesse as much as strength. I needed calm focus, not rage.

When I skipped the ritual—forgot my headphones or got rushed—I felt the difference immediately. Not necessarily in my shooting percentage, but in my mental state. I was reactive instead of responsive, tight instead of fluid.

Steve Magness, in “Do Hard Things,” reveals why this wasn’t just teenage superstition. His research shows that rituals work because they restore a sense of control in moments when everything else feels uncertain. As he puts it, when we utilize rituals, we shift our focus to behaviors “that we are in charge of, pushing to the back of our mind the items that we have little control over.”

Both my golf routine and basketball music served the same function: they were controllable elements in uncontrollable moments. These sports routines weren’t random—they were strategic responses to pressure.

The Science Behind Pre-Performance Rituals

The power of ritual extends far beyond athletics. Every morning at 5:30 AM, I’m in the gym before the rest of my day—and the rest of the world—wakes up. This isn’t about fitness goals or productivity hacks. It’s about creating a pocket of control before chaos arrives.

Those forty-five minutes belong entirely to me. No emails, no meetings, no decisions for other people. Just iron, movement, and the steady rhythm of controlled effort. By the time I’m showering and heading to work, I’ve already won something. I’ve centered myself.

This morning ritual serves the same psychological function as my golf routine or basketball music: it establishes control over variables I can actually influence. When the workday inevitably brings unexpected problems, difficult conversations, or shifting priorities, I’m operating from a foundation of calm rather than scrambling to find it.

Magness’s research reveals why this works. When we have control over our environment, “our alarm is quieter and easier to shut off.” The morning workout isn’t preparing my body for the day—it’s preparing my nervous system. I’m training my brain to remember that I have agency, even when everything else feels reactive.

The Hidden Routines

But here’s what’s interesting: everyone has these control rituals, whether they recognize them or not.

Ask someone who claims they “don’t do routines” to describe their morning. They’ll inevitably reveal a sequence: wake up, check phone, coffee, shower, whatever. The order matters to them, even if they won’t admit it. Disruption feels jarring.

Even our seemingly mindless habits serve this function. That ten-minute scroll through social media before getting out of bed? It’s not just procrastination—it’s a ritual that creates a buffer between sleep and the demands of consciousness. We’re easing ourselves into the day on our terms, even if those terms include watching strangers’ breakfast photos.

The person who insists they “just wing it” is performing their own kind of ritual: the ritual of spontaneity. They’ve made unpredictability their form of control.

What we often dismiss as “bad habits” or “time-wasting” might actually be attempts to grab micro-moments of agency. The question isn’t whether you have rituals—it’s whether your rituals serve you or undermine you.

This is where Magness’s research becomes practical for understanding performance psychology. He found that pre-performance rituals work because they activate what he calls our “controller”—the prefrontal cortex that helps us feel capable rather than helpless. The content of the ritual matters less than the sense of choice it provides.

How Athletes Use Superstitions vs. Science

Nomar Garciaparra’s batting ritual was legendary in its complexity. Adjust batting gloves on both hands. Tug the band on his left forearm. Repeat. Tap the bill of his helmet. Back to tapping the helmet, making the sign of the cross across his jersey, then windmilling his bat until he was ready to swing.

To outsiders, it looked obsessive, maybe even neurotic. Thirty seconds of seemingly meaningless gestures before every single pitch. But Garciaparra wasn’t alone—tennis stars like Rafael Nadal and Serena Williams have their own elaborate pre-serve sequences. Water bottles placed just so, towels in exact positions.

These aren’t athlete superstitions. They’re sophisticated control systems based on performance psychology.

Elite performers understand something the rest of us are just learning: in high-pressure moments, your brain craves predictability. When the stakes are highest and variables multiply—the crowd noise, the opponent’s strategy, your own nervous system firing—rituals become an anchor.

Magness explains that these routines work by activating our sense of agency. When everything else feels chaotic, we can still control our preparation. We can still choose our sequence, our timing, our mental state. The ritual says: “This part is mine.”

The more elaborate the ritual, the more control it provides. Garciaparra wasn’t wasting time—he was buying calm. Those thirty seconds transformed him from someone reacting to pressure into someone choosing his response to it.

This is why dismissing rituals as “just mental” misses the point entirely. Mental is where performance lives.

Designing Effective Pre-Performance Rituals

The next time you catch yourself dismissing someone’s pre-performance ritual as unnecessary theater, pause. Whether it’s the athlete with elaborate warm-ups, the presenter who always arrives thirty minutes early to arrange their materials, or the coworker who needs their coffee in a specific mug—they’re not being difficult. They’re being smart.

They understand that control isn’t about dominating outcomes. It’s about managing the variables you can influence so you’re free to respond to the ones you can’t.

Your rituals don’t need to be complex to be effective. My golf routine takes thirty seconds. My morning workout is forty-five minutes. The basketball music was three songs. What matters isn’t duration or elaborateness—it’s consistency and intention.

Start paying attention to your existing routines. Which ones actually serve you? Which ones are just habits you’ve never questioned? The doom-scrolling that helps you ease into the day might be valuable. The doom-scrolling that makes you anxious before important meetings probably isn’t.

The goal isn’t to eliminate pre-performance rituals—it’s to design them consciously. When pressure mounts and uncertainty rises, you want reliable ways to return to your baseline. You want pockets of control in a world that often feels uncontrollable.

Frequently Asked Questions

Do pre-performance rituals actually work? Research shows that pre-performance rituals work by activating the prefrontal cortex, helping athletes and performers feel more in control and less anxious. The key is that they provide genuine psychological benefits, not just placebo effects.

How do I create an effective pre-performance ritual? Start with activities you can fully control, keep them consistent, and focus on actions that help you feel calm and centered. The ritual should serve your mental state, not superstitious beliefs.

Because in those moments when everything feels chaotic, the person who can still choose their response—who can find their calm through small, deliberate actions—isn’t performing meaningless theater.

They’re performing sophisticated psychology. And they’re probably about to perform better because of it