Finding Your Inner Seabiscuit
By Dale Biron / Judy Burgio
Feb 3, 2004
Like many people, I'm attracted to underdogs. My office walls are filled with their images. For years they've been a steady source of silent encouragement, supplementing nicely the masterful efforts of my live, in-person, coaches. Some of the more famous include Martin Luther King and Sojourner Truth, poet William Stafford and writer Jack London, each one beating the odds of their unique and difficult circumstances in some astonishing way.
But then there is my favorite underdog, who’s actually a horse. There just behind my desk, is Seabiscuit in all his 1937 radiant, racing glory, thundering down the white wooden rail to victory. He was the most celebrated, four-legged, hero that ever graced the racetrack, receiving more adulation and press than any human being that year. It was not always that way, however, as Seabiscuit spent the first part of his life as a hack racehorse, with a pitiful record even in the low stakes, backwater, races he ran in.
A Sad Excuse for A Horse
As the talented biographer Laura Hillenbrand put it: "Seabiscuit was built low to the ground, having all the properties of a cinderblock. Where his famous father, Hard Tack, had been tall, sleek, tapered, every line suggesting motion, his son was blunt, coarse, rectangular, and stationary. He had a sad little tail, barely long enough to brush his hocks. Often mistaken as lame, when asked to run, he would drop low over the track and fall into a comical version of what horseman call an eggbeater gait, making a spastic sideways flailing motion with his left foreleg as he swung it forward, as if he were swatting flies."
Reading that description, it's easy to see how Seabiscuit inspired such low expectations in the minds of his original owner and trainer. Who could blame them? Every thing about this horse was bad news. In fact, his stable hands at the time said the only things he did really well was sleep and eat, both of which he did to great excess. And if Tom Smith, Charles Howard, and Red Pollard (his second trainer, owner, and jockey in that order) had never entered his life, he would surely have been used up and tossed away, put out to pasture early with the other nags.
"Seeing" and Cultivating the Champion Inside
Here's where the story gets good. It was Seabiscuit's (soon to be famous) second trainer, Tom Smith, who first spotted a "different" Seabiscuit. Smith "saw" the hidden passion, and set out to set free the big-hearted champion that no one else glimpsed. It was the beginning of an inspired coaching partnership, ultimately redeeming, and giving new meaning, joy, and purpose to trainer, owner, jockey, and horse alike. And ultimately millions of depression era Americans too, that were hungry for hope, especially from a sad, underdog, horse that reminded them of themselves. So if Seabiscuit could rise above the mire (literally) and win, well then, maybe they could too!
Now here's a question for you. Did Seabiscuit ever grow taller? Did he lose his comical "egg-beater" running style, or his nearly lame walk, or those strange knees that would not fully straighten? Of course not! Nothing changed, and yet everything changed. Seabiscuit now had a trainer, a jockey, and an owner that "believed" he was destined for greatness. And then worked with him to create a unique structure to realize that greatness. They set up new drills, practice schedules, unique sleeping accommodations, new food regimens, tons of care and attention, everything designed to "call out" and develop and accentuate Seabiscuit's best self, his hidden champion.
Yes, But. . . Horses, Organizations, and Martial Arts
Now I know what your inner-cynic may be saying right now, "nice story about a horse Dale, but it really has little to do with my world." And, of course, you may be right. Perhaps you have reached the pinnacle of your professional and personal abilities. Perhaps your level of career performance, happiness, satisfaction, life balance, peace of mind, etc. are as high as they will ever be. Maybe the famous actor Jack Nicholson had it right in that movie several years back, "maybe this is as good as it gets!" But what if you are wrong? Wrong about yourself, your people, your team, your organization?
Let me offer a brief personal story. Ten years ago, last month, I stepped onto the Aikido Mat as a very green, martial artist. At 41, with a particularly non-limber body, and the first signs of arthritis already developing in my hips, it may not have been my brightest move. Seeing the skill level of the Black Belts in our school didn't help my confidence, yet I somehow stayed on the mat for reasons that weren't apparent to me at the time. At some point years into my Aikido career, I began to realize that I had slowly adopted a much larger view of myself, and my abilities as a martial artist. It wasn't just an idea either, more like a deep feeling. Like Seabiscuit's trainer, Tom Smith, my coach/teachers, Wendy Palmer and George Leonard believed in me. They painstakingly helped create a "practice, learning, and feed-back structure" that kept me on the mat -- falling, failing, winning, but always learning and growing. Last month at 51, after a full year of intense practice and coaching, ten years and one month to the day since my first day on the mat, I tested and earned my Black Belt. Am I still a little amazed? Yes. Does this prove I'm something special? No. Do I feel more confidence in many areas of my life? You bet. Has it made me even more committed to coaching as a path to personal growth and mastery for others, myself, whole teams? Without a doubt!
The Path of Change and Mastery: Awareness, Acceptance, and Action
My experience of being coached, coaching others, and observing the great underdogs, has taught me some important things about the way humans change and grow. First, we must become more Aware of our unique strengths, passions, talents, and, of course, our personal blind spots, and challenges as well. We must work on an attitude of Acceptance for what we discover inside ourselves, particularly our possibilities for greatness and mastery, which are ironically often harder to accept than our challenges. Finally we must move into skilful, consistent Action. For myself, and every leader or team I've ever coached, this path means some kind of longer-term, intelligent structure, supported by a strong commitment to self, coach, and the larger team or community.
You Go first! Be The Change You Want to See In Others
What could possibly be more important work for the coming year, than finding and cultivating your own inner Seabiscuit? In other words, inviting the right people into your inner circle, along with committing to a structure of habits and practices that reinforces and "calls out" your own best and most powerful self. And this process applies no matter what your role and goal for mastery happens to be: leader; seller; service provider; team member; martial artist; or yes, even racehorse!
And then, of course, as good leader-coaches, we can help others uncover and develop their best selves too. Leadership has always been personal first, meaning we must first work on ourselves (using others we trust to coach and mentor us) before we can coach or help others. In fact, if we're not "being" the actions and changes we desire in others, then what are we modeling, and what messages are we really giving? As a leader, if you truly want others to embrace coaching as a tool for greater success, to make learning a priority, to consistently grow, to indeed have a championship year in 2004, then you've got to first model every step of that journey yourself. After all, finding your own "inner Seabiscuit" is the shortest and most predictable route to having others follow suit. May 'The Biscuit' inspire you, and be your guide in the coming year.
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Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music.
— William Stafford |
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