Don't Quit
I'm back! Summer has been crazy, awesome, and a few days of crazy awesome. I've had the chance to travel to California and Calgary in the two months since I wrote my last post. I've slacked off writing because I believe my family is the main group of people who read this blog and I've talked to most of them this summer. Sorry to all you other amazing readers who aren't in my family. I appreciate you sticking with me through this blogging drought.
As I've told you before, I've been working hard at my engineering job all summer and getting my workouts in at Zoom in the evenings. I just have to take a second and give a HUGE shout-out to all the trainers at Zoom Sports in Frisco, TX, especially John Kasa. They push me everyday and encourage me to keep working hard. I even appreciate their sarcastic backhanded compliments. If you live in the Dallas area and need any type of sports development for athletes ages 8 to dead, check them out. They're awesome. I even did a bit of elevation training at my family reunion. We were up in the mountains at 5,000 feet elevation. I was sprinting uphill with a bungee cord around my waist dragging my mom up the hill behind me. Such a dedicated mother. She was right there training along side me, helping me and taking video. Thanks Mom!
These next few paragraphs are the reason I've been putting off posting the last few weeks. It's not easy to share about learning from failure, so bear with me if this isn't my most eloquent or light hearted writing.
When I sprained my ankle during the last week of the season, I had no idea how much perseverance I would need in the coming months, these last few weeks especially. On July 30th, we had our annual combine that I mentioned in the last post. To be eligible for a variety of things, you need to score 600 out of 800 points. Most of the girls have been training hard for this test since mid-April or earlier. I, on the other hand, didn't start my heavy training until near the end of May. This only gave me a little over 8 weeks to train for the combine. Most of the other girls get to train full time, where I have to train around a full-time job. I haven't pushed a sled since the end of March, and most of the other girls have been working hard at the push track all summer. I was trying not to focus on all this while preparing for Calgary.
Last year, I was over the moon about my combine. It was my first time actually passing, and I scored nearly 100 more points than I ever had before. (Check out Fall Foliage Tour for my recap of last year or my Minnesota USBSF Combine video if you don't know what our combine is.) I drastically improved in every category and ran much faster than I'd ever run. With the knowledge that improving or even maintaining those scores would be tough after my injury and such a short training period, I headed into the combine knowing I'd done everything I could in the time I had.
Tuesday morning dawned sunny and beautiful. We headed to the track, and I went through my warmup. As I heard all the other girls times and took my turn sprinting down the track, I knew things weren't going to be pretty after seeing my times. I ran a 6.20 second 45m sprint, which was 0.2 seconds slower than last year and much slower than most of the other girls. With half of the points coming from running, I was going to have to step it up in the other categories to pass. I was near my personal bests in all the other categories, and I passed with a score of 606. I kept telling myself not to be disappointed, but it's easier said than done. Like I always say, "It's all about perspective." I was trying (and still convincing myself) to find the positive perspective in the situation. I know there's no way I could have passed the combine on 2 months of training before, so I can't be upset about that. Even though I succeeded in passing the combine, I wanted to improve like the rest of my team seems to have no problem doing. After an evening meal and ice bath, I was trying to move past it and focus on push champs.
Thursday I was privileged enough to witness some of the best brakeman in the world compete and set new records during their push championships. Team USA is looking strong, and it's amazing to know I'll be cheering for these same people on their quest for Olympic medals in February. Friday it was my turn to compete. I ended up getting last place among the pilots, which was really disappointing. After all the hard work that goes into training, all the encouragement from family, friends and teammates, I felt like I'd failed everyone. I heard people cheering for me as I pushed off the line, and as I came back up the ramp and saw my times, I was upset. I was thinking, "All these people at home think I'm trying out for the Olympics, and I just got last place. I just disappointed my friends and teammates. Why am I even here? I don't feel worthy of competing with these amazing athletes. I think the coaches are just keeping me around because I work hard and don't cause trouble."
One of the chapters from Bryan Clay's book Redemption (you really should read it) came to mind. He was competing in his first World Championships, and he was terrified by the caliber of the other athletes. He kept thinking, "Those are the marks I have to make to be this good? I just want to curl up in a ball and wish myself home." It distracted him so much that he couldn't compete at the level he was capable of. No one expected him to do anything at that meet. There was absolutely no pressure on him to perform from anyone but himself. (This was sounding really familiar...)
He ended up getting injured and pulling out of the decathalon only 2 events from finishing."My desire to quit was much stronger than all the rest of my desires combined. I knew I could deal with the failure and disappointment of quitting. It seemed easier than going on." His coaches made him sit in the stands and watch the rest of the meet. He watched all the decathletes take their victory lap together after finishing and learned a lesson that shaped the rest of his life and career. He saw the bigger picture. He saw that there was pride in just finishing. The medalists probably didn't work any harder than the guys who lost; they just had the better marks that day. Because he had quit, he missed being a part of something special.
I went back and read what I had written in the margins of that chapter after my disappointing day and had to smile. "It never ceases to amaze me that we learn so much more from our failures than we do from success. Failures force us to evaluate our deficiencies and learn from them. These experiences are vital. Without a testing ground, you'll never know what what you're capable of or know how to prepare. Don't check out and sit on the sidelines. God looks at your heart, not the outcomes. No matter how you feel or perform, don't miss out on the everything in your future because you quit. Failure can breed success when you learn from it."
I'll admit that there have been a few moments since that Friday afternoon when quitting sounded like an option, when living my life in Texas seemed like it could be enough, but this chapter kept coming back to me along with my mom's voice. I've often times gone to her for advice on tough decisions, and she always asks me, "What will it cost you not to do it?" What would quitting now cost me? If I give up on my dreams of making it to the Olympics, I know I would look back and regret it, but those goals seemed so unreachable considering my recent results. Big goals can seem impossible and get in the way of accomplishing little goals. So I have set smaller, attainable goals. When I accomplish them consistently, I'll set new goals to run just a few hundredths faster, jump a half inch higher, or lift a few more pounds. Over time those little goals add up, and you've accomplished something that seemed completely impossible before.
In retrospect, I see that I competed against some of the best bobsled athletes in the world. I also finished a US National Push Championships, which is a lot more than most people can say. I finished 10th out of only 10 women in the US who are bobsled pilots vying to represent our country. Not too shabby when you look at it from the right perspective.
After working through all these emotional ups and downs, I want to encourage you. If you're chasing after something that seems impossible or you've recently experienced failure, DON'T QUIT! Learn from your failures, but don't dwell on them. Don't let setbacks stop you. Don't let your dreams die. It's not always going to be easy, but it's always worth it. Keep chasing your dreams!
As I've told you before, I've been working hard at my engineering job all summer and getting my workouts in at Zoom in the evenings. I just have to take a second and give a HUGE shout-out to all the trainers at Zoom Sports in Frisco, TX, especially John Kasa. They push me everyday and encourage me to keep working hard. I even appreciate their sarcastic backhanded compliments. If you live in the Dallas area and need any type of sports development for athletes ages 8 to dead, check them out. They're awesome. I even did a bit of elevation training at my family reunion. We were up in the mountains at 5,000 feet elevation. I was sprinting uphill with a bungee cord around my waist dragging my mom up the hill behind me. Such a dedicated mother. She was right there training along side me, helping me and taking video. Thanks Mom!
These next few paragraphs are the reason I've been putting off posting the last few weeks. It's not easy to share about learning from failure, so bear with me if this isn't my most eloquent or light hearted writing.
When I sprained my ankle during the last week of the season, I had no idea how much perseverance I would need in the coming months, these last few weeks especially. On July 30th, we had our annual combine that I mentioned in the last post. To be eligible for a variety of things, you need to score 600 out of 800 points. Most of the girls have been training hard for this test since mid-April or earlier. I, on the other hand, didn't start my heavy training until near the end of May. This only gave me a little over 8 weeks to train for the combine. Most of the other girls get to train full time, where I have to train around a full-time job. I haven't pushed a sled since the end of March, and most of the other girls have been working hard at the push track all summer. I was trying not to focus on all this while preparing for Calgary.
Last year, I was over the moon about my combine. It was my first time actually passing, and I scored nearly 100 more points than I ever had before. (Check out Fall Foliage Tour for my recap of last year or my Minnesota USBSF Combine video if you don't know what our combine is.) I drastically improved in every category and ran much faster than I'd ever run. With the knowledge that improving or even maintaining those scores would be tough after my injury and such a short training period, I headed into the combine knowing I'd done everything I could in the time I had.
Tuesday morning dawned sunny and beautiful. We headed to the track, and I went through my warmup. As I heard all the other girls times and took my turn sprinting down the track, I knew things weren't going to be pretty after seeing my times. I ran a 6.20 second 45m sprint, which was 0.2 seconds slower than last year and much slower than most of the other girls. With half of the points coming from running, I was going to have to step it up in the other categories to pass. I was near my personal bests in all the other categories, and I passed with a score of 606. I kept telling myself not to be disappointed, but it's easier said than done. Like I always say, "It's all about perspective." I was trying (and still convincing myself) to find the positive perspective in the situation. I know there's no way I could have passed the combine on 2 months of training before, so I can't be upset about that. Even though I succeeded in passing the combine, I wanted to improve like the rest of my team seems to have no problem doing. After an evening meal and ice bath, I was trying to move past it and focus on push champs.
Thursday I was privileged enough to witness some of the best brakeman in the world compete and set new records during their push championships. Team USA is looking strong, and it's amazing to know I'll be cheering for these same people on their quest for Olympic medals in February. Friday it was my turn to compete. I ended up getting last place among the pilots, which was really disappointing. After all the hard work that goes into training, all the encouragement from family, friends and teammates, I felt like I'd failed everyone. I heard people cheering for me as I pushed off the line, and as I came back up the ramp and saw my times, I was upset. I was thinking, "All these people at home think I'm trying out for the Olympics, and I just got last place. I just disappointed my friends and teammates. Why am I even here? I don't feel worthy of competing with these amazing athletes. I think the coaches are just keeping me around because I work hard and don't cause trouble."
One of the chapters from Bryan Clay's book Redemption (you really should read it) came to mind. He was competing in his first World Championships, and he was terrified by the caliber of the other athletes. He kept thinking, "Those are the marks I have to make to be this good? I just want to curl up in a ball and wish myself home." It distracted him so much that he couldn't compete at the level he was capable of. No one expected him to do anything at that meet. There was absolutely no pressure on him to perform from anyone but himself. (This was sounding really familiar...)
He ended up getting injured and pulling out of the decathalon only 2 events from finishing."My desire to quit was much stronger than all the rest of my desires combined. I knew I could deal with the failure and disappointment of quitting. It seemed easier than going on." His coaches made him sit in the stands and watch the rest of the meet. He watched all the decathletes take their victory lap together after finishing and learned a lesson that shaped the rest of his life and career. He saw the bigger picture. He saw that there was pride in just finishing. The medalists probably didn't work any harder than the guys who lost; they just had the better marks that day. Because he had quit, he missed being a part of something special.
"Seared in my memory was the knowledge that I would come to a point in every decathlon when I would feel as if I had been dropped over a cliff and would be completely justified in quitting. At that cross-roads I would have to decide: Do I quit and come up with an excuse? Or do I keep going through the pain and try to win this thing? Every single decathlon brings me to that moment. I am tempted to quit. The difference now is that I expect it. Everything in my mind tells me, 'Byran, don't do this. you're taking yourself to hell and back. Just walk away.' But now I know that's normal."
I went back and read what I had written in the margins of that chapter after my disappointing day and had to smile. "It never ceases to amaze me that we learn so much more from our failures than we do from success. Failures force us to evaluate our deficiencies and learn from them. These experiences are vital. Without a testing ground, you'll never know what what you're capable of or know how to prepare. Don't check out and sit on the sidelines. God looks at your heart, not the outcomes. No matter how you feel or perform, don't miss out on the everything in your future because you quit. Failure can breed success when you learn from it."
I'll admit that there have been a few moments since that Friday afternoon when quitting sounded like an option, when living my life in Texas seemed like it could be enough, but this chapter kept coming back to me along with my mom's voice. I've often times gone to her for advice on tough decisions, and she always asks me, "What will it cost you not to do it?" What would quitting now cost me? If I give up on my dreams of making it to the Olympics, I know I would look back and regret it, but those goals seemed so unreachable considering my recent results. Big goals can seem impossible and get in the way of accomplishing little goals. So I have set smaller, attainable goals. When I accomplish them consistently, I'll set new goals to run just a few hundredths faster, jump a half inch higher, or lift a few more pounds. Over time those little goals add up, and you've accomplished something that seemed completely impossible before.
In retrospect, I see that I competed against some of the best bobsled athletes in the world. I also finished a US National Push Championships, which is a lot more than most people can say. I finished 10th out of only 10 women in the US who are bobsled pilots vying to represent our country. Not too shabby when you look at it from the right perspective.
After working through all these emotional ups and downs, I want to encourage you. If you're chasing after something that seems impossible or you've recently experienced failure, DON'T QUIT! Learn from your failures, but don't dwell on them. Don't let setbacks stop you. Don't let your dreams die. It's not always going to be easy, but it's always worth it. Keep chasing your dreams!