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Bucknell Women's Rowing Journal - Page Kannor
May 6, 2009
Perhaps one of the greatest things about Bucknell athletics has nothing to do with sports themselves. When I came to this team as a freshman, there were a thousand things I wanted to do on campus in my four years. It's easy to get overwhelmed with all the available activities, groups and clubs here, and I couldn't wait to utilize the primate lab, delve into my classes and, most of all, audition for the prestigious Rooke Chapel Choir. A choral singer since second grade--well before my athletic drive kicked in--I have never known life without music. Strangely, I've never been comfortable singing solos, and even though I sang a few in high school, I've always been way too nervous to try out for any here--especially because I sing the lowest voice part for women, and alto solos are few and far between.
During the past couple of months, I've had a line of advice Coach uses stuck on repeat in my head: "don't hope; execute." In other words, don't worry and fret over what you're doing or about to do; just do it, and do it with confidence. A few weeks ago, we started learning a piece of music written by one of the seniors in the choir. I was surprised to find a short alto solo in the mix--although it was only though 4 words in length, I suddenly got that long-lost solo-yearning feeling that hadn't hit me since I was a senior in high school. My basic policy of never letting anyone hear me sing was hard to shake, though, and I wasn't sure how to get rid of that uncontrollable anxiety that hits when I make myself vulnerable. One day Coach pulled me aside to ask me something singing-related, and I suddenly realized that it was silly to be so scared of something I love so much. As this revelation occurred, the phrase "don't hope; execute" simultaneously popped into my head. Call it fate, call it a sign; whatever it was, I was grateful for it. So I auditioned for the solo, and I got it. I repeated Coach's words to myself every time we rehearsed the piece until the confidence began to come on its own: the more I told myself to tackle those 4 words with utmost confidence, the better I performed. And the better I performed, the less I had to pretend to not be nervous. The concert has come and gone, and I was very pleased with how we all sounded, my own solo included. Even during the performance, those three words calmed my nerves and strengthened my voice.
Of course, Coach's words don't just apply to rowing and singing. I use them in everyday situations, including the other day during a self-pep talk before an interview with my future employer. Whatever the circumstance, they make me feel stronger and more capable, a welcome feeling in a time of such uncertainty. In the future, long after I've graduated and perhaps when I've obtained a--*gasp*--real job, I know I will often think back to my experiences on this team and remember those words. I will remember the accomplishments this team has achieved and these memories will give me a reason to smile, tilt my chin up, and move forward with confidence. - Page Kannor '09 |