“If you could only see …”

If you could only take one peek into the looking glass of life and see what transpires down the winding road of our destinies, would you? Would you dare? I wonder if it is the unknown that drives mankind, if we need our curiosities tantalized in order to maintain our desire for success and fruition.

Think about it. If you knew the end, would you ever begin?

I don’t know why this popped up in my mind today. Well, actually it was last night when I pulled into the parking space at my apartment complex and sat in the dark and listened to Tonic’s song with those very words, “If you could only see . . . .” I had just finished listening to Kasey Kasem (I didn’t realize the guy was still around; he’s like Dick Clark, isn’t he?) talk about Tonic’s guitarist and how he compared his daily guitar practice sessions to Ernest Hemingway’s insistence of writing every single day without fail. A session missed is a session lost, and it can be heard (or read…or seen) in the notes of whatever tune the group produces.

I had just had a good cry after a very brutal leg workout. One hour of zipping here, zipping there, and zapping the legs into some sort of conditioned bliss resulted in a total release of emotions that had been bottled up inside for some time. I wanted to skip that workout last night. I actually considered it. My buttocks were glued to my floor (I still haven’t found a desk I want for my computer, so the floor is my cushion, and as my tush is in the leaning out phase, the floor is quite painful), and I seriously had to pry them up and wriggle into my workout attire before heading into the damp drizzle that greeted me as I walked to my car. In the end, I felt better. After all, a leg session missed is a leg session lost, and it will be seen when I step forth on stage this summer.

I can’t make any predictions of what this summer will bring. (Though, Amanda might disagree. After all, I did have a psychic dream about her Sunday morning. I dreamt that she called me and told me she not only won her class at the Orange County but also won the overall. And so it goes, Sunday evening, she indeed did call with that exact news. Just call me a witch, I guess...lol.) So many things have occurred in the last year that if anyone would have come to me years ago and presented me with a motion picture summary of 2004, my eyes would have bugged out, and I would have shrieked, “No way!” I have a total fear of the unknown, and yet it’s that very unknown that makes us driven and determined to be the turtle in this race of life and shuffle our way forward…sometimes in our shells, and sometimes out of our shells and comfort zones.

Let me quote something I read today in preparation for a leadership seminar I’m attending for work tomorrow:

“Peak performers are, by common agreement, exceptional. To these people, going through the motions is anathema. From them you hear precious little talk of settling for a comfort zone where you try (but not with all your energy) and achieve (but not all your dreams). They face at least as many obstacles as other people, and go through at least as many rough times. It would be deeply surprising, however, to hear that any of them stopped. No matter how rough it gets, no matter how great the assault on body and mind, peak performers always feel they can do something. Invariably, they move on. . . . They trust that in the end they will make it. More often than not, they do.” Charles Garfield

(I must digress and say what a wonderful word “anathema” is. I had to look it up actually and make sure I knew the exact meaning, but I love seeing words like that.)

This article went on to examine Tiger Woods and what makes him stand out from the rest of the putters in his industry. All have “long drives and accurate putts,” but Woods has a “most crucial attribute: laser-like focus and unwavering concentration. [He] has balanced and integrated the physical mastery of his sport with equally remarkable skill in the art of ‘attention mastery’ . . . .” It is that “attention mastery,” that zone, if you will, of which I weave in and out when preparing for these shows. When I lose it, competing is a true struggle that becomes a gorilla. I must pull another quote that I ran across this morning to explain that analogy: “Success is a little like wrestling a gorilla; you don’t quit when you’re tired—you quit when the gorilla is tired.” I guess what I have to figure out is what exactly is the gorilla in terms of my life, in terms of these shows. I don’t agree with so many things that occur in this industry when examining politics, judging criteria, inconsistencies, lack of monetary motivation, health benefits, job opportunities for the professional athletes. I’ve spoken my mind. What else can I do? I can only control myself, my physique, my steps across the stage…and which stages I choose to step across.

I love competing. I love working out. I must meld those together and understand that that is now the entity under which I prepare for my shows this year. Where once dreams of a pro card existed in the confines of my imagination now dreams of a career exist…and yes, that does include writing—in addition to what I currently do. One day, folks, I’ll put the details of 2004 into a novel and sit on the cushions (not the floor…lol) of Oprah’s plush couch and tell the world my story (or at least my grandkids, though finding time for a date might be the first step before grandkids come along…lol!).

Until that time, give me some dumbbells and my blogger. With those two tools in hand (even if one of them is in the virtual hand), I guarantee entertainment for all who stay tuned this year.