DCSRA Open - 5th &6th September 2026
How to Improve Your Target Shooting
Many shooters assume improvement comes from firing more shots. Sometimes it does. More often, it simply makes existing habits harder to change.
Real progress is not a straight line from beginner to expert. It is a series of stages. Each one builds on the last, and each asks a different question.
Why are you doing this?
Can you repeat good technique?
Is your body able to support it?
Do you know how to train?
Can you perform under pressure?
And, finally, can you win?
These stages overlap, but they usually need to be built in roughly this order. Technique without purpose becomes mechanical. Fitness without technique adds little. Training without competition skills may not transfer to matches. Talent alone does not teach someone how to finish well.
Improvement starts with knowing where you are.
Before changing your position, equipment or training plan, ask a more basic question: why do you shoot?
The answer may be simple. You enjoy the challenge. You like the social side of club shooting. You want to represent your county or country. You want to master a difficult skill. You may simply want to become better than you were last season.
There is no correct answer. What matters is that it is honest.
A shooter who wants to enjoy a weekly club night will train differently from one seeking international selection. Neither ambition is more valid, but each demands different choices about time, effort, coaching and competition.
A clear sense of purpose also helps when progress slows. Improvement is rarely smooth. Scores stall. Confidence dips. Equipment causes trouble. A poor competition can make months of work feel wasted.
Your reason for shooting gives you something more stable than the latest score.
It also prevents borrowed ambition. Shooters sometimes chase goals because a coach, parent, club or team expects them to. External encouragement can be valuable, but long-term commitment is difficult to sustain unless the goal also belongs to the athlete.
Write down what you want from shooting over the next year. Keep it specific and personal.
It might be:
to enjoy competing more
to achieve a particular classification
to make a county team
to improve one technical weakness
to complete matches with greater confidence
to reach a national final
A good goal should guide decisions, not merely decorate a notebook.
Good shooting begins with sound technique, but technique is more than knowing the correct position or movement.
The real aim is to build a process that can be repeated.
That process may include preparation, position, balance, natural point of aim, breathing, sight alignment, trigger pressure, follow-through and post-shot review. The details vary between disciplines, but the principle remains the same: each shot should be built deliberately and in a familiar order.
A shooter may understand every part of the technique and still fail to reproduce it consistently. Knowing what to do is not the same as doing it under fatigue, distraction or pressure.
The shot process should become simple enough to trust.
This does not mean becoming robotic. Conditions change. Bodies move. Wind shifts. Matches develop their own rhythm. A good process must be consistent, but not rigid. It should provide structure while still allowing intelligent adjustment.
The best shooters do not necessarily make every shot feel identical. They recognise what matters, preserve the key elements and avoid being distracted by small variations.
Consistency of process must come before consistency of score.
This is an important distinction. Scores are outcomes. They are influenced by technique, judgement, conditions, equipment and chance. The process is what the shooter can control.
After a poor shot, the useful question is not simply, “Where did that go?” It is, “What changed in the process?”
Perhaps the position had settled incorrectly. Perhaps the natural point of aim was not checked. Perhaps the trigger was hurried. Perhaps concentration moved to the score rather than the shot.
A repeatable process gives the shooter a way to diagnose the problem without panic.
Technique should therefore be treated as a craft. It is built patiently, through careful repetition and honest feedback. There are few shortcuts. New equipment may help, but it cannot replace a weak process.
Write your shot process in a few clear stages.
For example:
Set the position.
Check balance and natural point of aim.
Settle the breathing.
Confirm the sight picture.
Apply the trigger smoothly.
Follow through.
Review the shot calmly.
Keep it short. A process that requires a page of instructions is difficult to use under pressure.
Target shooters do not need to be elite endurance athletes. They do, however, need a body that can support good technique.
Strength, mobility, balance, posture and stamina all affect performance. A shooter who begins strongly but loses position late in a match does not have a purely technical problem. Fatigue changes technique.
Physical conditioning should serve the discipline.
For a rifle shooter, this may mean postural strength, shoulder stability, balance and the ability to hold position without unnecessary tension. For a pistol shooter, it may include shoulder endurance, trunk stability and controlled arm strength.
Mobility also matters. A position may look correct but place too much strain on the body. Limited mobility can force compensations, which may then become technical habits.
Conditioning does not need to be elaborate. Simple work done consistently is more valuable than an ambitious programme abandoned after two weeks.
Walking, general strength work, mobility exercises, balance training and discipline-specific conditioning can all help. The aim is not to build a different body. It is to make the existing one more reliable.
Recovery matters too. Sleep, hydration and sensible nutrition may sound ordinary, but poor recovery quietly erodes concentration and control. In precision sport, small physical declines can have large effects.
Identify the point in a match when your technique begins to change.
Does your shoulder tire? Does your back tighten? Does your balance deteriorate? Do you begin rushing because holding the position becomes uncomfortable?
That moment tells you what your conditioning programme needs to address.
Many shooters practise often but train poorly.
There is a difference between firing shots and improving performance. Repetition alone does not guarantee progress. It may simply rehearse the same faults.
Purposeful training begins with an objective.
A session might focus on trigger control, position stability, sighting, rhythm, wind judgement, match pace or recovery after a poor shot. Trying to improve everything at once usually leads to vague practice and vague conclusions.
Good training also separates learning from testing.
When learning, the shooter may use drills, reduced pressure, video, coach feedback or carefully controlled exercises. When testing, the shooter reproduces competition conditions and measures whether the skill holds up.
Both are necessary.
A common mistake is to shoot complete matches in every session. Match simulation is useful, but it is not always the best way to fix a specific weakness. A musician does not only perform entire concerts; difficult passages are isolated and rehearsed.
The same principle applies to shooting.
Training should also strengthen the repeatable process. Shooters need to practise the whole sequence, not only the moment the shot is fired. Preparation, mental cues, position building, timing, follow-through and review are all trainable.
Records can help, but they should remain useful. A brief note about the session objective, what happened and what to change next time may be more valuable than pages of numbers.
Feedback should be immediate enough to guide learning, but not so constant that the shooter becomes dependent on it. Coaches, electronic targets, video and shot analysis all have value, but the shooter must also learn to feel and judge the shot independently.
Before each session, answer three questions:
What am I trying to improve?
How will I practise it?
How will I know whether it improved?
Without those answers, the session may still be enjoyable, but it is less likely to be productive.
Training and competition are not the same sport.
In training, the shooter can stop, restart, experiment and repeat. In competition, time moves in one direction. Mistakes count. Other people are watching. The score matters, even when everyone says not to think about it.
Competition must therefore be learned.
That includes practical skills: preparation, equipment checks, match planning, warm-up, timing and handling delays. It also includes emotional skills: accepting nerves, recovering from poor shots and staying engaged when the match becomes uncomfortable.
This is where the idea of fighting becomes useful.
Fighting does not mean anger, aggression or forcing the shot. It means remaining present when performance becomes difficult. It means refusing to mentally leave the match because the start was poor or the score is below expectation.
A competitive shooter must learn to continue.
Nerves are not a sign of weakness. They are a normal response to importance. The aim is not always to remove them, but to perform while they are present.
The repeatable process becomes the anchor.
When the score is rising, return to the process. When the score is falling, return to the process. When another shooter appears to be performing brilliantly, return to the process.
Pressure pulls attention towards consequences. The process brings it back to action.
Competition also exposes weaknesses that training can hide. A technique that works only when the shooter feels calm is not yet robust. A routine that collapses after one poor shot needs further work.
Include pressure in training.
Use timed exercises, scored finals, head-to-head drills or consequences for breaking the process. Occasionally start a session with one attempt that counts.
Pressure should be introduced gradually. The aim is to learn, not to frighten the shooter.
Winning is often treated as the automatic reward for good technique and hard work. It is not.
Winning is a skill.
A shooter may be technically excellent and still struggle when victory becomes possible. The final stages of a match can feel different. Attention shifts. The body changes. The shooter becomes aware of what the result might mean.
Some become cautious. Others rush. Some start protecting the score instead of continuing to shoot.
Learning to win means recognising these moments and staying committed.
It also means accepting that winning may feel uncomfortable before it feels natural. Athletes can become used to chasing stronger opponents, but uneasy when they become the person others are chasing.
The task is not to suppress ambition. It is to stop ambition interfering with execution.
Process and outcome are not enemies. Shooters should care about the result. Competition would be meaningless otherwise. But the result cannot be controlled directly.
The shooter must want to win, then return attention to the actions most likely to produce it.
Winning also requires judgement. When conditions change, the shooter must respond. When an opportunity appears, it must be recognised. When the match reaches its final stages, decisions must remain clear.
Finishing well is trainable.
A shooter should practise the final series, the last shot and the moments when fatigue and expectation meet. Too many athletes train the middle of the match and hope the ending takes care of itself.
It rarely does.
Practise closing.
Set up short exercises in which the final shots matter. Begin with an artificial score or a clear target. Learn what happens to your thoughts, breathing and timing when success is close.
Then rehearse the response: slow down, trust the process and commit to the next shot.
A good coach offers different support at different stages.
At the beginning, the coach helps the shooter understand motivation, build sound fundamentals and avoid unnecessary complexity. Later, the coach helps refine the process, identify patterns and design better training.
As competition becomes more important, the coach’s role changes again. The athlete may need help with pressure, decision-making, confidence and match review.
The best coaching does not create dependence. It helps the shooter become increasingly observant, responsible and self-aware.
A coach should not merely provide answers. They should help the athlete ask better questions.
Every shooter wants a higher score, but the score is often only the visible symptom.
The real issue may be unclear motivation, weak technique, an inconsistent process, fatigue, poor training or limited competition experience.
Improvement begins by identifying the correct stage.
Ask yourself:
Why am I doing this?
Can I repeat my technique?
Can my body sustain it?
Do I know how to train deliberately?
Can I compete when things go wrong?
Can I finish when winning becomes possible?
The answer may not be flattering, but it will be useful.
Better shooting is not built by searching endlessly for the next trick. It comes from creating a strong foundation, then learning to trust it under increasing pressure.
First build the craft. Then build the athlete. Then build the competitor.
The score will follow.
This article was produced by Dan Truscott, a NSRA County Coach and ISSF Rifle Coach. The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the DCSRA. The content is informed by current ISSF and NSRA coaching doctrine.