Why your brain loves to catastrophize.

"If we NQ this run, we’ll never get the title."

"If I can’t fix this, maybe I shouldn’t even be competing."

"What if this injury is the beginning of the end?"

"What if I’m just ... bad at this?

Sound familiar?"

This is catastrophic thinking — when your brain takes a single mistake or uncertain moment and builds a worst-case scenario around it. In dog sports, we do this all the time. One bad run becomes a referendum on your training. One missed cue turns into “we’ll never title.” One off day, and suddenly you’re doubting everything about your team, your skills, or even your dog.

The spiral happens fast — and it feels incredibly real. But here’s the thing: it’s not truth. It’s a protective reflex. Your brain is trying to get ahead of pain, disappointment, or failure. It thinks it’s helping by preparing for the worst. And while that might sound logical on paper, in reality, it often derails your confidence, connection, and joy in the sport.

Here’s how it sounds in real life:

• You miss one cue and think, “We’ll never qualify.”
• Your dog hesitates on a familiar skill and you wonder, “What if I ruined them?”
• You scroll through social media and see everyone else succeeding, and suddenly you’re convinced, “I’m falling behind.”
• A weird gait, a limp, or a quiet moment turns into, “What if this is the beginning of the end?”

This is catastrophic thinking. It’s not drama. It’s not weakness. It’s a brain pattern rooted in fear. And you are far from the only one who does this.

But here’s the good news: it’s also coachable.

You can train your mind like you train your dog — with awareness, consistency, and practice. Here are four tools to help you interrupt the spiral:

1. Name the pattern

Call it what it is. Say to yourself, “That’s a catastrophic thought.” That tiny moment of awareness gives you the power to pause and choose something else.

2. Find the facts

Ask: What do I know for sure right now? “We missed the entry” is a fact. “We’ll never get this title” is a fear. Learn to separate fear from evidence.

3. Come back to the present

Touch your leash. Feel your feet on the ground. Make eye contact with your dog. Take a breath. Fear lives in the future. Your strength lives in the now.

4. Reframe gently

Try: “Even if today didn’t go as planned, we’re still learning.” Or: “This isn’t failure — it’s feedback.” A reframe doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t matter. It means recognizing that it’s not the end of the story.

Your dog isn’t keeping score. They’re not spiraling. They’re ready for the next rep, the next cue, the next shared moment with you.

And you can be too.

So next time your brain says, “What if I’m just not good enough?” — pause. Breathe. Look at your dog.

And say, “Maybe. But let’s find out together.”