Ever since I was kid, weird things happen to me. I don’t say this as a complaint, more a fact. Weird being, at my first Europa Cup, I lost my lift ticket. I found it in the bottom of my ski boot I’d been wearing all day. The weird part is, my boots were on before I got the ticket. I skied around ducking turnstiles and borrowing tickets. These incidents had the Us Ski Team coaches crown me “S*&% Show,” a nickname that took me years to escape.
Joining Groundswell has proven no exception to my curse. This blog is dedicated to those moments. In one of the first classes, we were told, in a business, anything that could go wrong, at some point, will. We were learning accounting and the analogy chosen was a kid’s lemonade stand letting a lemon loose, it rolling into the road, making a car swerve, hitting a poodle. Safe to say, things hit the fan.. Fortunate for me, my weird incidents mainly just make me look silly.
Which takes me to my first story- being a proclaimed s*&% show and professional athlete, I was super excited to dive into Groundswell’s inner game content. If it could help my skiing and make me more objective, I was in! The day of the class, I was flying home from Norway. I really wanted attend in person and had a seven-hour layover in London. I found a relatively quiet airport corner and logged in. It was the first ‘active’ class we had with Groundswell. ‘Active’ meaning the inner game professor walked us through a series of breathing exercises, ti chi type moments, and organ smiling. I loved it but I cleared the entire corner of the airport. I followed the exercises and let the strangers watch me become more centered.
My second tale was midseason when I was training a ton. I was missing classes and forced to watch the recordings. That was fine but driving was killing my day. An anonymous source told me to download the class and listen while I drove, mark the times I needed to watch, and go back later. It actually works well, but I get sucked into the discussion. Even recordings, I find myself talking to the computer screen. Driving along, I missed the speed change. Apparently, I was going 55mph in a 35mph. At least, that’s what the cop told me. I was so flustered. Skis stacked in my tiny Toyota, my ski bag in the front seat, I couldn’t fully hide my computer. When the cop appeared, I was trying to turn my computer sound off, close the screen, or at the very least, hide Warner, Cody, and Bob’s face on the recording tab. I pulled out all the stops; I told the cop I was sorry, I was distracted, I was going to ski with kids (which was true). He was eyeing the situation in my front seat but didn’t ask so I didn’t elaborate. I got off with a warning and decided to reevaluate my strategy.
I spent many years trying to get rid of my poor nickname. I tried to be more controlled and prevent the weird incidents. What I found is, trying to be something I’m not stressed me out, sucked my energy, and made me uptight. I’m better when I keep my humor and flow through the weird times. Same with Groundswell. I try really hard to keep up but sometimes my race schedule makes it impossible. That’s what the program is designed for. We are learning the content, not being graded. The goal is to convey the content effectively. Like a ski race, it’s super black and white. You’re fast or slow. You know the material or you don’t. No matter what the obstacles getting there are.