Post tourney blues - dealing with the drop.

It can strike almost instantly - in fact, it hit me just as we were crossing the border between New York and Pennsylvania (on the way back from Toronto) - the "drop."

Having post-tourney-morbs is well documented in axe throwing. You spend time alongside all your friends, living la-vida-loca, and then just pop back into your everyday life. You put on the stupid human suit of your day-to-day job and that's it. No more Jell-O shot abandon. No more screaming at the top of your lungs at someone absolutely crushing a premmy clutch. No more picking up for-sale axes and imagining yourself instantly becoming a stronger thrower.

Unsuprisingly, this niche specific feeling is a real thing, and it's more commonly called "post-vacation depression." Basically, you just had an experience which idealized your life, and you're now back in your "regular" life (and it's not as fun as that idealized version, and you're sad because of it. Because of responsibility and shit).

So what are we to do? Look wistfully out of a window while it rains, clutching a dozen new stickers we picked up? Send DMs to other throwers admitting that indeed, we wish we knew how to quit them?

Dear reader, action is the antidote to despair, and I'm more than happy to help you recover from your own personal tourney drop.

Deal with the drop by giving yourself side quests, extending the experience.

This one truly works (that's 100% what someone says when they aren't sure if something will work. That's my little tip to you), and it has to do with all the stuff you can do after a tourney to kinda extend the enjoyment of the event.

Side quests can include: finding the social profiles of people you met and friending/following them, organizing all those stickers you got, or going through pictures you took and overwhelming the internet with 'em.

Side quests can also be: working on something you learned while at the tourney (a new throw, a new way to stand, etc.), following up on a conversation you had at the event with someone else, or, hell, even just unpacking from the trip.

This is a little thing, and is hella subjective, but I've found that blurring the lines between being at the tourney and being at home can help lessen the shock of being back at a desk doing my job stuff.

Watch the stream (if it exists)

Now, I'm a short little thing. Just a tiny little snack. And much like going to a concert, I don't get the chance to see much more than elbows and shoulders in a crowd. I used to get frustrated by this, but in my old age, I've come to accept my lot in life, and don't even try to watch matches, anymore.

That means, however, that I do get the secondary joy of watching live-stream recordings. So go ahead, put in your headphones and watch the tourney wherever you are. Want the full, immersive experience? Go running for a little while before watching the stream. That way you'll be sweaty and uncomfortable, just like everyone who watched the tourney in person!

Decompress

Now, I don't know how normal humans function, I'll admit it.

But, for me, I get overwhelmed by being around hundreds of people. Even if I really like those people - it's a lot. So the emotional whiplash of being overwhelmed and then being sad that I'm...what...not being overwhelmed anymore? It's a lot.

Decompression is valuable, I think, at all times - but espeshhhhh when your brain is telling you to be sad about leaving an emotionally-charged event like an axe throwing tourney.

And by emotionally charged, I don't mean you, like, lived a soap opera while at IATC. If you did, please let me know so we can write the script, but I mean, like, just the heightened experience of being around lots of people, shouting/laughing/screaming, and living a different sort of experience than your typical, non-big-tourney life.

So, what does this look like? Well, friend-o, it can look all sorts of ways. Maybe decompression for you is watching a favorite movie, or going on a walk. Maybe it's sleeping in a bit, or eating a comfort meal. Whatever the process, recognize you feel kinda "meh" and do something nice (for you). It goes a long way in recovering from the drop.

Decompression can also be sharing. Not just with other axe throwers, but with your boring friends, too. Talk about the experience, what cool things you did, who you met, all that stuff. Sharing is caring - we all know that - but sharing can also be self-care. Talking about the tourney helps your brain extend the goodtime feelings from that tourney, which helps offset the sads.