It is now time for my next installment of Katie Tries Something Completely New
and Scary.
Today, we received a group e-mail from our coach, and boy was I thrilled to
see my name at the end, in a special "congratulatory" note for my new and
exiting accomplishment of riding for 41 miles, up hill in the rain and wind
and snot, and living to tell the tale. You see, I had sent him a similar
private e-mail describing my anguish, with the emphasis on how good my knees
felt. It was a positive note, really, though I thought maybe he might laugh at
me, or throw his arms up in despair, like how did I land THIS one, I wasn't
sure. This is a former pro-cyclist, who views these hills as "active
recovery," he told us.
So, he took the time to do this, and it means so much. How does this relate to
autocrossing? I'm aiming this specifically at you experienced autocrossers, me
included, who like to help instruct others. I'm sure not all of you are guilty
of this, but I am. Worst are husbands and boyfriends instructing their
significant others. And I've even lost a boyfriend over it. I destroyed his
confidence, just "trying to help."
We think teaching means pointing out errors, so your pupil can improve. Boy am
I guilty of this.
Sometimes, though, the improvement comes without even thinking about it. More
often, it's just practice, and lots of it. And isn't it easier to practice
when you feel GOOD about what you're doing?
So, the next time you're in that teaching situation, really make an effort to
point out what your student does well. I think what all of us novices are
looking for is validation, particularly from non-members of our immediately
family, that in fact, we are good NOW. We know better than to expect greatness
immediately, but we all want to know that we have good reason to keep trying.
Our worst critics are ourselves, so if you have an instructor who only points
out your errors, it can kill you on the inside.
Some people might disagree with me, and in fact, I've met people who do. They
say there's no point in leading people on, and why give them false hope and
insincere compliments? If you fall into that category, then allow me to burst
your bubble and let you know that you're not a very good teacher if you can't
some kind of talent in your students.
I say this, because I am a novice right now in an activity that scares me to
death. I am right at the cusp of accepting this as a worthwhile pursuit, or
something to not even bother trying. I am afraid of looking stupid, of being
too slow, of falling, and hurting myself very badly. Just to receive that
acknowledgement from a former pro-cyclist, who wrote in his e-mail, and I
quote, "...and congratulations to Katie for pedaling further than ever before
and making it up all the hills," is more than ample. Man, you should have seen
me choking. I barely crawled in at the end, and here's this credable source
saying, No, you did a GOOD JOB.
He also gave us all excellent coaching, but the prognosis for ALL OF US is
good. I see many more happy cycling miles ahead.
Katie K.
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