My Roller Debut: Taking My Own Medicine

Last weekend I drove to Donora, PA for my first competitive performance in artistic roller skating in singles dance. For the previous six months I had focused seriously on my skating with lessons twice a week and practice three days a week. I acquired the sparkly costume with the little skirt. 

My event was in the last hour of the 3-day competition so I had three days to watch other skaters perform, to get familiar with the rink, and to visualize my dances. And when my moment came to skate...I absolutely freaked out. The floor spun, my legs froze, I lost control over my feet. My head was caught in a dizzying sound and light show of the audience in the bleachers flying past me, the organ music, and the coach's advice. 

And then I was finished. The spinning stopped. My heart pounded fiercely but no heart attack followed. The experience had been so unexpectedly bizarre that my state of surprise lasted for hours. And then another inner state was layered upon the surprise. I finished twelfth out of twelve skaters in my division. Dead last. 

I thought I had prepared myself for this. The idea behind competing had been to improve my skating and to try a new experience. To learn and to enjoy. It was not about being better than anyone, for heaven's sake. Oh, but my ego did not agree! It did not like the shaky performance and it did not like being last. I zoned out with three hours of channel surfing on the TV when I went back to the hotel to avoid the feeling of failure. And what I learned is: 

1. I am not as good a skater as I thought I was. 
2. I have stuff to learn about competing. 
3. My ego likes SUCCESS in capital letters, as in winning. 
4. If I require SUCCESS any time soon, there's no point in competing. 
5. If I don't compete, I lose the learning, the adventure, and the (hot dog!) character-building opportunity. 
6. Real success is stepping out on that floor, even when it spins. 
7. My life is enriched by being willing to fail. 

My life is, indeed, enriched by being willing to fail. 

What would you do if you were willing to fail?