During my sophomore year at JMU, I decided I wanted to be the Duke Dog. To be fair, the intense passion to be the Duke Dog ran for about a two week window between when I saw a flyer announcing auditions for the role and the day of the audition. I arrived at the audition location and lined up with several hundred other students. The line was moving quickly as students would enter into a changing room, put on the Duke Dog outfit, and then proceed into another room and entertain the gathered decision makers.
My turn came and I enthusiastically suited up and went into Duke Dog mode. I was excited. I was enthusiastic. I was ready. I jogged into the audition space and I stood there. And I waited. There were all sorts of props on a table in front of me. I didn’t pick up or interact with a single one. I stood there. And I waited. One of the members of the panel cheered, “Wave to the crowd!” So I waved. And I put my hand back by my side. And I stood there. And I waited. Another panel member coached me, “Grab that broom and show us what you’ve got!” So I grabbed the broom from in front of me and I held it.
Did I point to the hypothetical opponent, pretend to stomp on them, and sweep them away? Nope.
Did I flip the broom sideways and play it like an air guitar? Nope.
Did I hold the broom over my head rooting for a sweep and stirring the crowd into a frenzy? Nope.
I stood there. And I held the broom.
One of the panel members jumped in, thanked me for coming to the audition, and sent me back to change so they could meet the next candidate.
I did not get to be Duke Dog.

The Dayton Muddler is a local event designed to both raise money for charity and build a sense of community among friends and neighbors. It’s a mud run, filled with obstacles to test your physical and mental abilities as you push yourself and your teammates to their limit.
Years ago, I was contacted by the event organizer who shared with me that they needed a motivational speaker to hang out at the start line for the race and hype up participants as they were waiting. I was excited for the opportunity. I was starting to gain some momentum in the motivational speaker space and knew this would be a great chance to expand my base.
I spent some time researching the Muddler event itself and the charity that the proceeds would support. I planned out carefully the key points race participants should be thinking about that would be both motivational and reflective as they got started.
At no point did I look into what a start line “hype speech” is supposed to be. (As a frame of reference, here’s Dustin Dorough’s.)
So, I got to the Muddler, got to the start line, and got the microphone. I shared a five minute monologue about why pushing yourself matters, why this specific charity was so impactful, and what it meant to lead a life of purpose. The 50 people cued up for the first heat were kind and respectful, while also looking at me with eyes that said, “Can you please be done so we can go do this thing?” I wrapped up and off they went.
I wasn’t invited back to be the hype guy for the event again. In fact, I was replaced before the third heat of participants hit the starting line about 45 minutes later.

Since 2013, Valley Business Keynote has served as a cornerstone event in business networking, growth, and innovation across the Shenandoah Valley. VBK’s mission is to help fulfill potential and is impressive for all the right reasons.
In 2018, I was invited to be an event speaker. I was gifted the opening slot and charged with warming the crowd up ahead of Kim Scott’s presentation on Radical Candor. I worked with the committee in the lead up to the event and we settled on a delivery for me focused on the concept of being a catalyst for change.
I spent several months thinking about my message, tweaking the content, seeking input from friends and mentors, refining the content, and preparing to deliver. I focused on the diverse personal stories, skill sets, and professional journeys that would be in the room. I considered my comments with the intentionality and hope that something would connect with each of them.
The event day came and I was excited. This was my chance. I had always wanted to give a TED talk, and this was as close as I expected to get. I was pumped. I was waiting backstage and just casually chatting with Kim Scott and the event host and I could feel the adrenaline starting to really take off. It was go time.
I savored my time on stage and delivered the message I had prepared. I enjoyed my time with the audience and I believe it showed.
Afterward, I could tell that the team who had vouched for me was a bit disappointed with my comments. Their reaction was positive but I could tell it was coated in a bit of let down. We had a formal debrief a few days later and my primary takeaway from the conversation was that I had delivered a positive and important message. It lacked the direction and impact they were seeking, but it was overall just a little bit off.
Between us, and myself included, we couldn’t determine what exactly was off, and why what I presented didn’t align with expectations. When asked the direct question, “How could it have been better?” no one in the room or engaged in the follow up conversations afterward could provide a direct answer.
In each of these cases – being the Duke Dog, being the start line hype guy, and being the opening speaker – something went sideways and I failed to deliver what was expected. When that happens, it’s so easy to take it to heart, sit in the distress, and fret over the perceived failure.
However, with some mental distance from the events, I have a much better understanding about what happened and how much learning took place and value was added to my life as a result of each event.
While I didn’t get to be Duke Dog in front of a packed stadium, I did get a chance to reflect and grow on what it means to interact and feed energy into a large audience. I wasn’t a great hype guy, but being in the race space got me energized about fitness again and started a health journey that continues to keep me motivated today. Not only was I a participant in the Muddler over the next few years, but I’ve done countless other similar events and now even drag my family along as participants, too. And while I didn’t deliver exactly what was needed to the VBK crowd, the experience made me even more intentional about the work I’m doing in the motivational speaking space and the questions I ask to make sure we’re each well positioned to exceed expectations.
Again, it’s so easy to flip the mindset to simply saying no to asks that challenges your boundaries just a bit. Yet something is lost when that choice becomes a pattern. Having a team of leaders who continue to say yes – even when it’s hard, even when it’s gone sideways on us before, even when we don’t feel like it – is a distinguishing factor in our ability to build the community of tomorrow we are seeking.
Having a team of leaders who continue to say yes – even when it’s hard, even when it’s gone sideways on us before, even when we don’t feel like it – is a distinguishing factor in our ability to build the community of tomorrow we are seeking.





