Field Notes 21 August 2026 form
The 5-Minute Pre-Shot Routine That Actually Helps
My buddy Ryan had his shot process written on an index card taped inside his bow case. Eleven steps. Stance, hips, grip, hook, load the back, set the head, draw, anchor, float, command, release. He could recite the whole thing standing in my garage holding a beer.
Last November a decent eight came in at 22 yards and he ran none of it. Punched the trigger the second the pin touched hair. Arrow sailed over the back and the deer bounced off into the cedars. He told me later that he forgot everything.
That's not what happened. He never had it in the first place. Reciting a list and owning a routine are two different skills, and only one of them holds up with a deer at 22 yards.
Here's what nobody tells you about pre-shot routines: the specific steps barely matter. What matters is that the routine hands your conscious brain a job that isn't decide when to fire. Target panic, buck fever, tournament choke, all the same failure wearing different clothes. Your conscious mind grabs the trigger because you left it unemployed. I wrote a whole post on why target panic isn't a mental problem, and this is the other half of it.
Five minutes, not fifty
Most guys who decide to "work on their shot process" build a forty-five minute ritual, do it twice, and quit. Mine takes five minutes at the front of a session. Five minutes is short enough that I still do it in the driveway in a Carhartt in January, which is the only test that counts.
First ninety seconds: blank bale at six feet, eyes closed, three arrows. No pin, no target, nothing to aim at, so there's nothing to punch. You're letting your body find draw, anchor, and back tension without a score attached to the outcome. Joel Turner has been preaching blind bale for years and he's right about it.
Next ninety seconds: same six feet, eyes open, aiming at a blank spot on the foam. Draw, settle, hold a five count, let down. Three reps and you don't shoot any of them. This is the rep that teaches your body that letting down is free. Most archers have literally never let down at full draw with an animal in front of them, which is exactly why they can't when it matters.
Last two minutes: real arrows at twenty, running your command out loud. Whatever your cue is. Turner's crowd says "pull, pull, pull." Dudley talks about aiming as a background process while the shot builds. Say yours out loud, alone in the driveway, sounding like a crazy person. If you can't say it out loud at twenty yards by yourself, you're not going to run it silently with a buck at the base of your tree.
The eight seconds it buys you
What comes out of those five minutes is short on purpose. Hook the release. Set the bow hand and then forget the bow hand exists. Draw with the string hand doing nothing but hanging on. Anchor, let the pin float, and do not fight the float. The float has never once caused a miss. Chasing it has caused all of them.
Then the command, and the shot goes when the command finishes. Not when the sight picture looks pretty.
Notice what isn't in there. There's no step where you evaluate whether the pin is good enough yet. That step is the poison. Every archer who has ever come unglued on a big deer did it because they let "now" become a decision instead of an outcome.
Length matters more than people think. If your routine takes fifteen seconds you will never run it on a live animal, because you'll be holding seventy pounds while something with better ears than you figures out what you are. Time yourself with your phone. Hook to release should be under ten seconds. If it isn't, cut steps until it is. I cut a whole "check your stance" beat out of mine three seasons ago and shot better immediately.
Why yours falls apart in the woods
Because you only run it when it's convenient. Flat ground, no wind, target at a known yardage, plenty of time. Then a deer shows up in a spot you didn't plan for, you're twisted around a tree at an angle you've never practiced, and the routine evaporates because it was never attached to anything but comfort.
Fix that by making the routine the constant and everything else the variable. Kneel. Sit. Lean around the trunk. Shoot with your jacket on, with your bino harness on, with cold hands. Shoot one arrow, walk away, come back in ten minutes and shoot another cold. That single cold arrow is worth more than the forty you shot in a row last Saturday, because one cold arrow is what the season actually asks of you.
And be honest about whether it's working. "I feel more confident" is not evidence. Group size is evidence. Cold-shot hit rate is evidence.
So here's the assignment. Run the five minutes before every session for two weeks and log every arrow in the Range tab over at The Forge. Log the cold ones separately, because those are the ones that tell the truth. Two weeks in, compare your week-one groups to your week-three groups and see whether the routine bought you anything. If it did, you'll be able to point at the number instead of the feeling.
And if the deer still shows up somewhere ugly, that's what the Shot Solver is for. Run the angle before season so the eight seconds is the only thing you have to think about when it counts.