2023 Toastmasters World Champion of Public Speaking: Jocelyn Tyson

Jocelyn Tyson, "Have You Been There?" "Have You Been There?" Jocelyn Tyson. Thank you, Contest Chair. You're welcome. It was the summer of 2021, and I was reaching a milestone birthday. I decided to skip the party and pick something epic off my bucket list: Triathlon. For those of you unfamiliar, it is a race that contains three disciplines: Swim, bike, run. Now, almost immediately, my inner go-getter said, "Yeah, let's do this! Show 'em you still got it." But my inner critic: "Slow down, hot st

uff. You hate swimming. You barely bike, and girl, wait a minute, that swimming thing, you can't do it!" And just like that, I had two warring sides, both with logical explanations for why I should or shouldn't do it. A decision to make. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I decided to go with my inner go-getter. I signed up for the race. I started jogging, I borrowed a bike, and yes, friends, I took swim lessons. And after eight months straight of training every day, I was ready.

It's race day. People are lined up along the banks of a lake, ready to start the first part, the swim. They blow the whistle and the race is off. I, on the other hand, am still at the bank of the lake. Why? You see, friends, my brain cannot seem to understand that the water, the dark, dreary, cedar water, was the same water that I had learned to swim in at the pool. There it was clear, you could see to the bottom. But this, this was darkness. I go to put my face in and I couldn't do it. I couldn

't do it. I started to panic. I look over to my right. I see my family. They're looking back at me. What's wrong? I look over to the other side and I can see all the people lined up to see the start of the race. They're watching me. And behind me are the people coming up for their next wave of the swim. I had a choice to make. Go forward into the water or go back home from where I came. A situation. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I chose to do the only thing any would do with

that logical situation. I flipped over on my back and started the backstroke. Now, swimming has a certain grace, a beauty, if you will. This had neither grace nor beauty. This was not swimming. This was surviving. I'm knocking into people, bumping into things, knocking things over and around, all things going on, all the while hyperventilating before I realize I heard it. "Ma'am, you're going the wrong way!" All I could think to myself at that time was, I wonder who they're talking to. "Ma'am, 3

22, you're going the wrong way." 322. No, no, I'm 322. I look over. I am 50 meters off course. Now in swim time that's not too bad, but for me, it was everything. I had to stop, get myself together, and I got back on course. Now, there are lifeguards spread out along the lake in canoes. I swim up to one of the canoes. The lifeguard, she looks over the boat. She looks at me and says, "Ma'am, you really need to think this through, okay? Look, you can still finish the race. We'll let you finish the

bike. We'll let you finish the run. But you might want to think about quitting this." And I understood where she was coming from. There was a lot going on. My inner critic agreed with her all the more. "You're in over your head, like 12 feet to be exact. Quitting sounds like a smart move right now." I looked up at her. I let go. I kept on swimming. I went on for another few more meters before I grabbed hold of another canoe. That lifeguard leaned over and she said to me, "You're doing good. Not

much further. You got this." Advice. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I let go. I finished the swim. I'm staggering up the bank. My legs feel like lead. My lungs are on fire. I'm coughing out water, all the while exhausted. I get to the bike. I fall up on top of the bike, one foot in front of the other as I pedal. To this day, I have no clue how I finished those 12 miles, but I got them done. When I finished, I tossed the bike to the side. I have now the run to do. At this poin

t, my inner critic steps out bold and says, "You still have a third to do? You hate running. Why are we still here?" At this point, my inner go-getter steps out and says, "We only have a third left to do. You trained for this. Yes! Yes! We're still here." I shimmy, shod, struggle, trouble, stanky legs all the way across to clear that finish line. I had done what I intended. That race took a lot out of me, but I took more out of it. Whether you have to make a big decision, overcome a situation, t

ake advice, or just finish what you started. These are things that can happen in life, can have two warring sides. This one, yes. That one, no. And both can come with logical explanations on what you should or shouldn't do it. Do I start a new job? Do I begin chemo? Do I finish chemo? Do I move? Do I start a new family? Whether you think you can or you think you can't. You're right. It was said by Henry Ford, "Because what matters most is what is within you." Friends, you can be your worst criti

c. No one knows your weaknesses or your flaws like you do. But at the same time, you can be your biggest cheerleader, and no one can push you further or take you higher. I implore you, no, I beg you, look deep within on that next challenge. Find your inner go-getter and see how far it can push you. I've been there. Have you? Contest Chair.