Guts

I spent a good amount of time today outside a classroom waiting while Pit Crew #3 went through his latest audition. Both young Crewers are musicians and have already collectively been through more auditions than I can even keep track of anymore.

I listened as he warmed up and practiced the same scales and songs we've been hearing around the house for weeks. I thought about how he was about to enter a room where he may or may not know the judge. Regardless, he was going to perform his scales and songs, and he was going to be judged. Note by note, he was about to be assessed as he was being stared at. (Don't you hate when people stare at you in general? ...

... so, I can't imagine having that stare come at me, one-on-one, in a small room, putting it all on the line for one shot at an audition. Just. Sayin'.)

While the Crewers both report general butterflies or other forms of normal, pre-performance nerves, both of them prepare, prepare some more (and, more!) and approach each audition in a very calm, "I'm totally ready; this is what I'm doing right now" kind of way. It's super cool.

As I listened to his (and have listened to so many from both) warm ups today and thought about how proud I am of both of them for entering the world of direct assessment head on and with confidence, I thought about how scared we can be as adults to put ourselves out there for whatever kind of venture. Namely, for me, not only was I totally scared to step into the world of running, but I also know many who are scared to the point of just not attempting at all.

I'm not one to say, "If s/he can do it, I can, too," (as though such a simplistic statement can be universally applied), but I am one to use one person's situation to see if I can gain better perspective on my own. I listened to PC#3's repeated scales as I reflected on my fears and insecurities years ago about even signing up for a race much less actually participating. I think about how nervous I was to sign up for a big race when, the fact is, there were 10,000 other people there strewn across miles. We weren't in a little room; we were literally across miles. No one was judging my performance. No one was just staring at me trying to determine if I was good enough to cross the finish line. After all, the ticket to cross was the registration fee and forward motion. That's it. If I stumbled along the way, so what. Shoot, I'll stumble, stop and backtrack if I must to pick up money! That's very different from hitting the wrong note in an audition ...

One of the race shirts I created said, "I'll get there when I get there, but I will get there." Even better, I get to decide after a race how it went. And, you already know my self-assessment is very positive (my rules: my way!) The young ones we send into auditions don't have the luxury of making such rules. They have to work hard, make the very best of what has been presented and await their outcome based on someone else's decision. And, that takes guts; guts I did not have at their ages.

Our young Crewers are amazing. I am humbled by what I learn from them. I am impressed with their guts, their commitment and their perseverance.

I think all I have to do is continue to watch and support their auditions and performances to understand how completely and utterly unnecessary it is for me to ever again be intimidated by something like running ...

Many people have been so kind in telling me how I've inspired
my kids ... Funny how it works both ways. And, I can't wait until
they really get that ...

Tomorrow's another run; I'll see you after ...

(Thanks Distant Runners Facebook for the above pic...)