Slaying the Dragon

I attended a breaking through fear workshop last weekend.  80 people took a leap of faith, made commitments to break through their fears, to be done, to walk to the person they were born to be.

The first speaker of the day, Aaron Huey totally rocked the room and set the tone for the day, for the entire weekend.  Aaron walked away from a life of addiction and now lives a life of service running a program for for teenage boys  that are dealing with substance abuse. "You have to be done, really be done with something before you can create something new."   He asked us again and again, "Are you done?"   "Are you really done?" We would all respond, yes.  We are are done.  Aaron would reply, "We'll see, we'll see.

One of the exercises we did on the first day was on the three C's.  Confidence, Courage, Commitment.  For each word on a scale from 1-10, rate where you are.  My word was confidence. Whichever word was ranked the lowest we we then gathered in a circle with a group of people that had also chosen that word.

We were given instructions to look each person that was in the circle in the eye and say "I will ---."  They are to respond "Yes, you will." and then we are to respond with "Thank you, I will."

There were about 15 people in my circle and just like so many times in my life, I found myself to be that last person to share.  I hoped no one would notice that I hadn't shared. I tried to shrink and make myself invisible.    I am a very good ghost.   It is my winning hand....

I stepped out into the circle.  I made eye contact.  I made my declaration.

"I will be unstoppable in my efforts to help create a world without blood cancers."  15 times, I made eye contact, shared my commitment.  15 times the other people in the group affirmed my commitment.  "Yes, you will.".   "Thank you, I will", I echoed back.

At the end of the first day, we all broke boards.  Smashing through fear.  Smashing through something that we wanted to leave behind.  What was it costing us?  I declared I was done.  I broke the board.  Am I done?  We'll see....

At the end of the second day we walked on fire, a bed of coals.  Fifteen feet, 1,250 degrees.  Leaving behind what we said we were done with, walking towards something.

Slaying the dragon.  The dragon that takes me out of the game, the dragon that keeps me small.   The dragon whose sole purpose and existence is based on his survival.  The dragon who also exists to serve and protect, to keep me safe.  Is the dragon a monster or a friend?

In preparation for the fire walk we were asked to write a letter to what we were done with.  What had it cost me?  What had it cost the world?  What was the payoff?  What had I gained from it?

What would I leave behind and walk towards?  We were given a couple of minutes to write.  We then walked to the fire where we were told to crumple our letters, hold onto them and then throw them into the fire and watch the letter ignite and then walk away.

Back to the room we went for our final instructions.  There was talk about creating a state change, having a power move, an anchor.

State your name, what you are done with and what you are walking towards.  Once the declaration was invoked in a powerful way the sentinel's at the start of the fire walk would lower their arms and we would walk begin to walk on fire.  Fifteen feet to be done with whatever we were leaving behind, fifteen feet to walk with purpose and intention to something else.

I ran over to my car before getting in the line.  I knew what my anchor's were.  I knew I would feel grounded.  I would be safe.  I knew who I wanted to share this journey with me as I left behind what I was done with and walked towards what I want to embrace in my life.

I waited my turn.  I felt incredibly calm, grounded.  I knew I could do this and I was unafraid.  I have run 17 marathons.  How hard could it be to walk fifteen feet?

The instructions were changed as the supply of coal was running low.  Just say what you are walking to.

It was my turn.

I said it loud, I said it proud.  No ghost today.

"My name is Ross Kinney and I am walking towards a life of  risking my significance and a world without blood cancer."

And I was off.  I hugged the volunteer at the end of the walk and wiped my feet off on the cool moss to keep my feet from burning.  It was over.  I had walked on fire.  What else is possible?

Inspiration for walking on fire and other things in life!

So many times in my life it was Kelly who inspired me to do things I never thought I could, whether it was running a marathon or doing something really scary like talking in front of a room full of people.

And now I have this wonderful opportunity to do something great with Cassandra, be inspired, play full out as we walk towards a world without cancer together for Kelly, for Laiken, for so many.

I turned back in time to watch my wife Sue walk to leave her something behind and to walk towards what she wants to create in her life.

I told her later that the fire walk for me was easy.  It was the exercise the day before that was so much harder for me.  Sharing my voice, being playful, dancing.   That  is the dragon totally stops me, takes me off  the court.

Sue asked me, "What if sharing your voice, being playful and silly and dancing is what the world really needs?"  "What if that is the one thing you need to do for the world  What if that makes the difference?"

I hate it when she asks me questions like that...

I told her the what I am done with that I didn't get to say before the fire walk.  "I am done playing small."

Am I done?  Am I done playing small?  Am I ready to risk my significance?  We'll see, we'll see...

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Leap

Tomorrow is leap day.

A dear friend of mine that I have yet to meet posted this on Facebook some time ago.  I saved it in my favorite quotations and in honor of leap day thought it would be good thought to share.

"That big decision you're putting off? This is your permission to just do it.  Light, Love, Belief in you. Now, go".!~Shayna Lister Hefner

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Iron Horse Bicycle Classic

Last Saturday, I finally rode in the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic, or at least attempted to...

                                             Young cancer kicker, riding for her Grandmother!

This ride has long been on my bucket list of rides I wanted to do when I started riding my bike again in 2002.

The premise of the ride is to race the Iron Horse train from Durango to Silverton. Train and cyclists start at the same time.  Cyclists that beat the train in get bragging rights.

I would not be one of those cyclists.

I heard the whistle of the train at the start of the ride and then again about 15 miles into the ride. 

That would be the last time I would hear or see the train during the ride.

At that point the road began to turn uphill and so began what felt like the longest and at times hardest climb of my life.

I normally like to climb, actually prefer that to descending.

I was woefully unprepared for this ride.  I had done minimal training for a 50 mile bike ride with climbs over two mountain passes and 5,000 feet of climbing.

I had actually done no hill work in preparation for this ride. NONE, ZERO, ZIP.

I thought I could fake my way through this ride, rely on the muscle memory of climbs completed long ago. 

I paid the price for the lack of respect I gave this ride.  I really thought I could just show up and pull this off.

The climb up Coal Bank pass began around 31 miles into the ride.  This was after a continual steady climb for the last 15 miles.  Now the road became steep. 

I suffered like I have never suffered before on the bike.  I simply couldn't turn the pedals over.  I couldn't get into any kind of rhythym during the climb.

My legs were burning, sweat pouring down my forehead into my eyes.  I couldn't see.  

I had to stop time and time again, wait for my heart rate to come down and then I would set off again only to repeat the cycle over and over again over the next 4 miles.

I didn't think I would ever make it to the summit. 

When I finally did, I was met by a most unpleasant site.  The state patrol car was blocking the road to Silverton.  I was done. I had missed the cutoff time by two minutes.

There was nothing to do, but to sadly load my bike on the Ryder truck and wait for the road to Silverton to open at 1:00.

I got on the bus with the other forlorn cyclists and we exchanged rueful, embarrassed glances.

This was the first time this had ever happened to me.  I had never missed a cut off time and been swept off the course.

The only other ride I have ever not finished was last summer, when I wrecked my bike in a freak accident 6 miles from the finish line...

Surpsingly, I was not at all upset by this turn of events.

I failed in a big way on Saturday, and I didn't make it mean anything about who I am.  This didn't make me a failure as a person.

The failure was born out of a complete lack of preparation. 

As I was riding the bus to Silverton, I thought what a great opportunity this was for me to have a conversation with the youth I am mentoring.

I didn't do my homework(hill work) skipped classes(training rides) , showed up and hoped to pass the final exam.  I got the grade I earned.

I am not gifted enough athletically to be able to fake my way through a challenging ride in the mountains.  I might have been able to fake my way through a 50 mile ride over flat terrain. 

I never gave up on Saturday.  I pedaled on until I was told I couldn't finish.  That was important to me.

This experience was a great learning opportunity for me.

Whether it is work, school, cycling, running, showing up is the single most important thing one can do to increase your chances of succeeding.

I don't know if I will ever attempt the Iron Horse ride again, but if I do, I will be sure to do my homework before I take the final exam.

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