Hurdling Adversity: 1 Minute to Change A Life
A few years ago a friend invited me to read Mitch Albom’s book “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”. The book is about people we interact with everyday who have had profound impacts on our life. Some we know and recognize right away and others, who may come in our lives quickly and leave just as fast, are less recognizable.
My take away from the book is that we never know the impact someone has on our life or the impact we may have on theirs. People inspire us all the time, and in turn, we inspire others. While we are living in this world, I believe it is important for all of us to tell those who have inspired us exactly that.
As I was reading Mr. Albom’s book, I was reminded of a story that changed my perspective in my early running days as a wide-eyed red-shirted freshman at the University of Arkansas (U of A) and a person who inspired me more than she knew. With her few words and matter-of-fact delivery she changed the way I viewed myself, my competitors and eventually the way I lived my life.
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Her name is Jeannette Bolden.
Ms. Bolden has been the head coach at the University of California, Los Angeles for the past 18 years, but in 1985 when this story takes place, she was fresh off her Olympic gold medal win as a member of the 4×100 meter relay.
This is how the story unfolded.
I was fortunate to make the Arkansas track team’s trip to Dallas, Texas and compete in my first open indoor track and field meet with my new teammates. The competition was the prestigious Dallas Morning News Invitation and my race was the 55m High Hurdles (HH)
The atmosphere was electric. There were so many athletes and spectators. There were so many track and field teams. The track surface was wooden and nothing like I had ever seen before. It was also very bouncy.
I listened to my teammate Mike Conley about how to run sprints on the bouncy boards, as well as took advice from my hurdle training partner Fred Cleary. But nothing really could have prepared me for this experience.
Sometimes in life we have to live in order to learn.
Truth be told I was just nervous. Actually, I was scared. Everyone looked so fast and experienced. I had more than butterflies in my stomach; I felt like there were little hamsters running sprint races on a treadmill trying to catch those butterflies.
I had to get control of myself. So, instead of succumbing to my fears of what I could not control, I decided that I would put my mind in a familiar place. I found my mind floating back to the warm-ups I did at my old high school in Oak Park, IL. Oak Park was a familiar point of reference for me where I had run literally hundreds of practices and races. I did a proper warm-up and prepared myself for my first big-time collegiate race.
There is an old adage that reminds us all that, “Perfect Practice Prevents Poor Performance.”
I would run the prelims and hopefully qualify for the finals.
The clerk called the hurdlers out to the track for our race. I am sure the other freshman hurdlers were just as nervous as I.
The indoor sprints are a sight to see. They are run straight down the middle of the track. Just past the finish line a section of the track, where the elevated curve would be, is removed to allow the athletes enough space to decelerate. Well actually, in the old days, there was usually not enough space for the athletes to decelerate; they would stop abruptly by slamming full speed into a high jump landing pad conveniently place against a wall and tilted on its side.
I took a few run-throughs over the first couple of hurdles to get a good feel for the track. It was bouncy and very giving as Mike and Fred stated it would be. I felt a bit off balance.
The starter lined us up and then called us to our marks. I dropped to my hands and I backed into my blocks.
My feet found the starting pads of the blocks and my hands rested just behind the white paint on the track surface. I was in a couched position. My eyes were focused straight down for the moment.
I exhaled while slowly lowering my head toward the ground. I was in a complete relaxed position.
The starter called us to the position and I drew in a quick breath filling my lungs with the recycled air of the arena. My backside rose into the air just above shoulder height as my shoulders rolled slightly forward. My eyes were opened wide with determination and were now looking about 3 feet in front of me. I was set and ready to uncoil and pounce on the first hurdle.
The gun went off and I sprang from my coiled position toward the first barrier. I exhaled violently as I pressed my body toward the first hurdle.
All I remember about that race was getting to the first hurdle before my competitors; the rest of the race was a blur. I crossed the finish line and slammed into the high jump mat, which sharply stopped my forward momentum.
I turned around and walked back to the finish line in my lane to receive my placing and time. Before I could make it to the line I heard the shouts of my Arkansas teammates coming from the grand stands. When I looked up I saw my teammates cheering for me and shouting down to me that I had won my heat!
Really?
Really!
I reached the finish line and faced the official. He confirmed the shouts of my teammates.
I was blown away. My first major race in college and I had just won! I had qualified for the finals!
In the finals the same thing happened. The competition was a bit stiffer because it was comprised of those who advanced, yet I again went to that familiar place in my mind to shed my nervousness. I again relaxed and when it was all over I had won the final as well!!
I was elated!
But my journey to Dallas was not finished. After the win in the 55mHH the official proceeded to reach into his vest pocket and give me an invitation to come later and compete in the night division invitational!
Wow! The night division invitation I thought. I get to run again. But in reality… I had no idea what that meant.
Later, I found out that I would be competing against all the people I had emulated and idolized as a hurdler while growing up in Oak Park. I was going to be racing against my heroes Greg Foster, Renaldo Nehemiah, Tony Dees and Roger Kingdom! Nehemiah had just returned from his stint in the NFL. I was amazed, honored and mesmerized to be on the same track as them.
I remembered that I had a small disc camera back at the hotel. I would bring it back so I could take some pictures of my heroes! After all I would be up close and personal with these great hurdlers and I certainly wanted to get some great shots with them.
The night fell over Dallas and the entire indoor arena changed. There was a transformation in the atmosphere. Though it remained electric the arena turned into all glitz and glamour.
My invitation pass allowed me to go down under the arena for my warm-up. I was armed with my track bag, my spikes and my camera. I saw all of my hero’s warming up.
Ooo, there’s Greg Foster – *(Click); Ooo, there’s Nehemiah (click); Ooo, there’s Roger Kingdom (click). I began taking photos of them and tried to be very inconspicuous. I hoped I was getting some really good shots.
After about 30 minutes the starter called all of us out of the warm up area and to our lanes for our respective heats. I put my camera away and went over to my lane. I don’t remember what lane I was in, but I do remember to this day the announcer’s introduction.
He was speaking in a voice that was worthy of hyping up any great prize fight.
He began his audience greeting and introduction of athletes something like this.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Dallas Morning News Indoor Track and Field Meet. On the track now is event number 35 the men’s 55mHH.
In LANE FOUR…”He has set the American record at this distance just last week. He was runner-up at the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles! Please welcome……Mr. Greg Foster!”
In LANE FIVE… “He is your Gold medal winner from the 1984 Games… Please welcome… Mr. Roger Kingdom.”
I was in lane 6 and prepared myself for my big introduction. After all I had just won the collegiate division earlier that day!
“In lane six… John Register, University of Arkansas.”
IN LANE SEVEN!!!
What??? I was mad. How dare the announcer disrespect me like that! I thought in my mind, I’ll show them!
I jumped up and down to prepare my legs to run and to beat these athletes and show the announcer that he messed with the wrong one today!
The starter called us to our marks.
I placed my hands behind the white starting line just as I had done twice earlier in the day. But this time I was more anxious and a little upset. I was not relaxed. External thoughts were clouding my focus.
Carl Gustav Jung says this about our focus being clouded, “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding about ourselves.”
I was about to understand things in a very definitive way!
“Set.”
When the gun went off I blasted out of blocks and looked up for the first hurdle and it was then that I realized…I was WATCHING the best hurdle race of my life!
I finished DL = Dead Last. I barely even needed to slow down to hit the high jump stopping pad at the other end of the arena.
I returned to my lane to reluctantly get my time (which, by the way, was worse than both of my times earlier that day). I found a seat off to the side and sat down. I pulled out my camera and then put it back quickly into my bag. I no longer felt like taking pictures.
My mood was in flux. I was grateful for having run with the best, but I also wondered why I ran slower tonight than I had done that afternoon.
This is when Jeannette Bolden came over. I did not recognize her. I just felt her presence in my space.
She did not ask if she could sit down beside me, she just sat down.
The conversation (I mean the butt chewing I took) went something like this:
Jeannette: “You look a little upset.”
John: “Yeah, I didn’t do too well tonight.”
Jeannette: “I watched you from the time you got on the track until now and I knew you weren’t going to do well?
John: “Huh?”
Jeannette: “Well, for one thing, you were taking pictures of all those hurdlers instead of getting your warm up done. You probably thought you were down on this track with your heroes or idols?”
John: “Yep.”
Who is this lady and why was she talking to me? That is the question that was running through my mind.
Jeannette: “The official who gave you an invitation after your 55m hurdle race this afternoon gave you that invite because they expected you to compete tonight. And, you wasted that invitation. You should have given it to someone who was going to actually use it.
She never raised her voice. She spoke to me in a very calm yet firm tone.
“Now, what you need to do is go back to Arkansas and develop those photos. But instead of idolizing the people you want emulate, you need to put them up on a wall and draw bulls-eyes around them and come back here next year and win the whole thing!”
I was speechless.
Jeannette then got up and walked away!
That was my brief encounter with the great Jeannette Bolden.
I didn’t even know her name until Mike Conley asked me later why Ms. Bolden was speaking to me.
The entire conversation took place in less than a minute. I never saw her again, but her words that evening have stayed with me until this day.
I pondered what she said to me on the long drive back to Arkansas.
When I returned to my dorm room I did as she suggested. I developed the photos and put my old heroes on my walls as bulls-eyes. I knew she was right. I had to stop idolizing those hurdlers and realize that I was now their competitor. If I was to compete for a spot on the Olympic Team one day I would need to reverse my thinking and not just be their competitor but also their competition. The last person I needed to compete against was my own limited thinking about my own capabilities. If I was down on the track with those gentlemen I deserved to be there.
Wherever you are in life, if you are in a situation where you feel either in awe of the people in your presence or you feel intimidated, don’t. You are in the room. You deserve to be there and your voice matters.
Well, I knew that I never wanted that feeling of being unprepared in my track and field career. And, from that point on, I was determined to be the best prepared at each meet.
The next year I was off of red-shirt status and was a full-fledged Razorback.
The team went back to the Dallas Morning News track and field meet and I again ran the 55mHH. This time I was the runner up in the Collegiate Division. Thank goodness the officials were taking the top two collegiate hurdlers to the night division.
Most of the same hurdlers were in the field from the prior year. But tonight was different. I did not bring my camera to the floor. I did a proper warm-up. The announcer still skipped over my name like I had taken his granddaughter’s last bottle of formula. But, I did not care. I was there to compete.
I saw all my heroes from last year warming up and I followed their lead. I still calmed myself by putting myself in the familiar setting of Oak Park’s field house.
The clerk of the course called us to the floor and ensured we were in our proper lanes. I set my blocks and took a few run-throughs over the hurdles.
The starter called out for us to take our marks.
I again dropped to my hands and backed my legs up until my feet found the starting pads.
I relaxed, exhaled and lowered my head.
“Set.”
The gun went off and I roared out of the blocks and sprinted to the attack the first hurdle. I went over it first! I led for three hurdles and with two hurdles remaining… that is when I again saw the best hurdle race of my life!
But this time I wasn’t DL! This time I had competed.
The famed Nehemiah was in the second heat and my time was actually faster than his!
Jeannette’s advice paid off in a way I can’t begin to repay.
There are many points that can come out of this story. But, the one I want to leave you with is this. People come in and out of our lives. Some of them make profound impacts on us. They challenge us to change our perspective.
We have unique opportunities to listen to their wisdom and learn from their past experiences to better ourselves. I have witnessed too many times the person who does not want to hear what they have done wrong because they think it will be little them in the eyes of their peers. Too often we take constructive feedback as a personal attack on our character and not as a learning opportunity.
Jeannette gave me great feedback. She did it with a firmness that challenged me to grown. The last thing she did was she offered me a challenge for the next year. She just didn’t dump on me and then leave. She offered a solution that was left up to me to implement.
Whatever her reason was for coming over to me that day and speaking those words of encouragement I am grateful for. She impacted my life in a remarkable way.
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I wanted to tell Ms. Bolden this story for a long time and it was only last year that I mustered up enough courage to call the UCLA Women’s Track and Field office to relay it to her. She was gracious, but I really don’t think she really remembered the story.
We often do not realize the impact we have on others. We think our small remarks are just that. But words have the power of life and death. We have to be careful how we craft them so that they are always bringing life to people and building them up.
The point is she inspired me to believe in my talents and abilities based on the work effort that I put into my craft, and more importantly, she made me realize that I was just as important as the ones I was taking pictures of on the track.
Each one of you is valuable and has so much to offer the world! If you are in a situation where you can offer words of comfort to someone or uplift them – Do It.
Thanks for reading!
Now, Go Forth and Inspire the World!
The Inspiration of Puddle Splashing
View the narrated text of this blog online at: http://youtu.be/quT4Xtp-wHc
Robert Frost wrote a poem called, “Mending Wall.” It begins with the words…
“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall that makes the ground swell under it…”
I won’t finish it, you can look it up. It’s a good poem and one I would like to commit to memory. (http://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/frost-mending.html)
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Anyway, the poem was the first thing I thought about after having a conversation with my seat mate Tina who I was next to on a very short 18 minute flight from Colorado Springs to Denver. I was in 5D and she was in 5C. Since the plane’s seating on the commuter flight is very close we struck up a polite conversation.
She was on the way to Phoenix and I to Anaheim California.
Our conversation drifted to growing up and the similar comparisons between two different experiences that wound up getting us to common ground. You see, “(she) is all pine and I am apple orchard.”
Anyway, as we chatted about growing up we quickly placed the conversation squarely on our children and the topic of puddles. Yes, those small pools of water, especially rain water, or the after effects of a good fire hydrant water park. (Some of you may remember this).
“Do you remember puddles?” I asked.
She looked at me with curiosity in her eyes.
“Puddles,” she said.
“You know puddles that appear after a fresh rain. I have never found a puddle that didn’t call out to be jumped in with either one or both feet,” I told her.
She laughed and said, “You know my boy used to always jump in puddles and get my pantyhose all splotched up with the water. Knowing I had to go to work with those splotches on my leg wear I would et so mad at him for getting me all wet.”
I laughed and told her, “As a kid I was always was jumping into a puddle. I too had probably made my mother upset with the cloths I dirtied up by getting wet.” I explained.
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“Do you jump in puddles now?” I asked her.
“No way,” she said.
“Did you jump in puddles when you were a kid?” I asked.
“Of course I did. I used to play all the time on the playground with my friends. And, when it would rain we would splash each other. We would kick water on each other or splash the water at our intended targets by angling our foot towards them and then slamming our foot into the water,” she explained with a smile. Laughter broke across her face as she seemed nostalgic thinking about her youth.
“So, why don’t you jump in now? What’s changed,” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
I began again, “The joy of puddle splashing, or jumping in a puddle, has lost a lot of it’s appeal in our adult lives. You know, we tell our kids (like our parents told us) “Don’t jump in that puddle you’ll get wet!” I said.
“But so what! Isn’t that the whole purpose?” I continued.
“Ya know,” I told Tina, “My son and my daughter’s friends think I am a bit crazy because if I am with them and I see a puddle I jump in and make an intended splash!”
“Your Dad is so weird,” my kid’s friends say.
“So,” I said, “I always like to make my splashes big. I can do it with either one foot or both feet! I think if you are going to get wet, why not go for it all.”
Tina just looked at me with the same look as my children’s friends. Her face seemed to say, “You’re so weird.”
We laughed about it for a moment and went on to the next topic. I don’t remember what the next topic was.
However, later on I thought to myself maybe this puddle conversation is a metaphor in some ways for life?
Maybe jumping in a good puddle speaks to when you are in pursuit of something you should go all in! Don’t hold back! Show your passion and jump in with both feet. Make a big splash. Take the risk and get dirty. Of course maybe it might not be best idea to do in your Sunday’s best!
Or maybe puddles speak to the passion in pour lives. They force us to tear down our inhibitions of perfection and allow us to just have some plain ol’ get wet and dirty fun.
Or maybe still the effects of jumping in a puddle help us to see that all of us are a little dirty on the inside of our hidden lives and only we only appear clean to our friends and other acquaintances on the outside. And maybe, if we revealed a little more of our “hidden” dirty puddle effects, we would not be so quick to clean the puddle effects of someone else.
So, the next time there are puddles on the ground after a good down pouring of rain, run outside and splash about in a good puddle and bring a friend to jump in with you!
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Bring back the essence of your youth and allow your kids to experience this great art of splashing about! By all means have fun and by accounts may your splashes big.
Those who live in the mountainous regions of our nation, you all can wait until the late spring. Puddles to you are now called ice. Jumping on ice is a slippery slope.
In relationship to why I thought about the Frost poem was only the play on words in the first line of his poem, “something there is that doesn’t love a “puddle.” And, of course the play on two other lines, “Good Puddles Make Good Friendships and create great memories.”
Paralympian Matt Stutzman aka The Armless Archer (What?)
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Matt Stutzman can change a tire with his bare feet in under 30 seconds! No Joke!
So what inspires this young rising Paralympian?
Well I caught up with Matt at the TeamUSA BP event in Naperville and asked him.
Check out today’s inspirational clip at http://youtu.be/VznESBXR0Dw.
Inspiration from Olympians and Paralympians
I was fortunate to be the emcee of a major announcement for BP’s TeamUSA program. This program features 9 US Olympians and Paralympians who are vying to make the US Team that will compete in London.
I was able to catch up with a few of them at the BP event in Chicago and ask them questions on what inspires them to compete at the highest levels. Their responses are recorded for all of us to learn.
I will post one a day over the next five days.
First up is Lolo Jones. Ms. Jones uses failures to fuel her future. We have heard the old adage that we can fail forward. Well truly Lolo continues to rise above and plays right into my moniker of “Hurdling Adversity.”
Take a listen in. http://youtu.be/kjB7BcpaSDw