"Why is it always so hard to get started?"That's from page one of Phil Knight's memoir, Shoe Dog. I've read the introduction, a whole five pages of text, and I am fired-up. I'm trying to pick a single passage to inspire this post, but there are literally half a dozen that I have marked like whoa.
Where do I begin? I don't know. So, I guess, I'll just keep typing and see where this goes.
"There's a kind of exuberant clarity in that pulsing half second before winning and losing are decided. I wanted that, whatever that was, to be my life, my daily life." (p.3)I used to be an athlete. As a result, I'll always consider myself an athlete. I remember this feeling. I know this feeling. I, at times, miss this feeling.
When you are an athlete, and you are competing, there is no where else for your mind to be other than focused on the task at hand.
I often think back to that feeling that you get before the game. You are nervous. You are excited. You are focused. You experience a wide-range of emotions. You know what to expect, but you don't know what to expect exactly.
|Photo courtesy of the Oregon Daily Emerald|
In terms of school, I often think about how this relates. On my way to work, driving to school, I feel nervousness, excitement, and a sense of focus on my commute each day. I have a general idea of what to expect, each school day, but at the same time I know that whatever I'm expecting is never how the day actually ends-up playing-out.
But then it happens. Each day, I get to school, I get out of my car, and I walk into the building. The ball drops. We totally immerse ourselves in the situations as they are presented, and we just go. We just do it.