HITTING THE WALL – PART 1

Today we are continuing our discussion of the voices in our heads and the rich insights and energy they have to offer. And lest you fear that I’ve been masquerading as a professional with a closet multiple personality disorder all these years, I assure you that every one of us shares this common experience of internal voices who talk to us.  Some of our voices talk rationally and kindly to us. Other voices torture us and do not give us a moment’s peace.

With a new client, I often work with the voices inside their heads as one of the very first things we do. For the truly terrified speakers, once we identify their voices by name and get to know them a little, I ask the torturing voices straight up what they want in exchange for leaving my client alone for the ten or twenty or sixty minutes of their speech. It works. My terrified clients get their speeches out, and their internal voices get their reward.

I can assure you that if you allow your internal voices to get your attention, and you truly listen within to what your voices are trying to tell you, these incredibly important parts of you can be engaged to assist, support and guide you in any endeavor. In some cases, they have been waiting years and doing some pretty dramatic things to get your undivided attention. But at their core, they really do just want to help and be an active, supportive part of both our personal and professional speaking lives.

But today we are talking about hitting the wall, which frankly is how the majority of my clients feel when they even have the thought of giving a speech or presentation.

This past weekend, I decided to go one step further in obliging the request last week of my own voices for more hills. On my way to meet my Native Planet cycling group, my voices and I had a little chat. “So today we are going on a loooooong bike ride, with lots and lots of hills. It’s a ride up to Snoqualmie Falls, through North Bend, Carnation and back. In addition to all the hills you wanted, we’ll see beautiful scenery of mountains, rivers, farms and flowers. I hope you like it.” My voices responded with great delight, “Oh goodie! What fun!” my voices chirped.

Then I leveled with them, “If I give you 63.5 miles of hills, you’re gonna have to give me a weeks worth of support and cooperation on my blog posts. Deal?” There was a long silence. Yes, I was bribing them for their help and they knew it.  Finally they said suspiciously, “Thanks for the hills, but can we even do 63.5 miles in one ride?” “I have no idea. Wanna try?” I asked.  Another long silence. “Deal…” they said, but cautiously. I could tell they were a little nervous but I thought even they need a stretch now and again.

Our Native Planet group of cyclists that gathers every Saturday is a mixture of expert riders and climbers, brisk and moderate riders. Jean-Phillippe Soule, our fearless leader, eats The Alps for breakfast. So I knew I had my work cut out for me to keep up with them. It was also my first experience of reading a cue sheet by myself on a long ride.

For those of you non cyclists, a cue sheet is the cycling route laid out in tenth of a mile increments, with all the streets and intersections and turns marked and written out along with the distances so you can keep track on your bike odometer for each section of the ride you are on.

Actually as it turned out, I folded the cue sheet up and placed it in the back of my cycling jersey and decided that I would just try to do my best to keep the last of the 25 club Native Planet riders in sight. Honestly, I was more afraid of being left behind which would mean losing the route entirely than I was of any pain. And incredible pain is what I was about to experience. (To be continued…)