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Speech by Jocelyn Tyson

Have You Been There?
Transcript
Highlights
It was the summer of twenty twenty-one, 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 stuff. 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 on 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 could not 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 it. 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 anyone would do in 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, over-- knocking things over, around, all things going on, all the while hyperventilating. Before I realized, 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, three twenty-two, you're going the wrong way!" Three twenty-two? No, no, I'm three twenty-two. I look over. I am fifty 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, and 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 wanna think about quitting this." And I understood where she was coming from. There was a lot going on. And my inner critic agreed with her all the more."You're in over your head. Like twelve 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 twelve 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 point, 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, struggled, troubled, stanky legs all the way across to clear that finish line. I had done, but I did it. 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, take advice, or just finish what you started, these are things that can happen, and life can have two warring sides. This one, yes. That one, no. And both can come with logical explanations on why 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 critic. 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.
Speech Summary

This was a vivid, funny, and genuinely motivating story that earned its message. The triathlon experience gave you real stakes, and your repeating refrain (“This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there?”) tied the whole speech together in a memorable way.

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Situation → Hindrance → Action → Result → Evaluation

It was the summer of 2021, and I was hitting a milestone birthday. Instead of throwing a party, I decided to do something epic off my bucket list: a triathlon. For anyone unfamiliar, it’s three disciplines: swim, bike, run. Almost immediately, my inner go-getter showed up: “Yeah, let’s do this! Show ’em you still got it.” But my inner critic had notes: “Slow down, hot stuff. You hate swimming. You barely bike. And girl, that swimming thing… you can’t do it.” Two warring sides. Both logical. One decision. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I chose the go-getter. I signed up. I started jogging, I borrowed a bike, and yes friends, I took swim lessons. Eight months of training every day, and I was ready. Race day comes. People are lined up along the bank of a lake for the swim. The whistle blows, and the race is off. Except I’m still standing on the shore. Why? Because my brain could not understand that this dark, dreary cedar water was the same water I learned in at the pool. The pool was clear. You could see the bottom. But this… this was darkness. I tried to put my face in it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I panicked. I looked right and saw my family watching me. I looked left and saw the crowd watching me. And behind me, the next wave of swimmers was coming. I had a choice: go forward into that water… or go back home. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I chose to do the only logical thing any person would do in that situation. I flipped over on my back and started the backstroke. Now, swimming has grace. Beauty. This had neither. This was not swimming. This was surviving. I’m bumping into people, knocking into things, hyperventilating, trying to keep moving. And then I hear, “Ma’am, you’re going the wrong way!” And I’m thinking, “I wonder who they’re talking to.” “Ma’am, 322, you’re going the wrong way!” 322? No… I’m 322. I look over. I’m fifty meters off course. In swim time, that’s not too bad. For me, it was everything. I had to stop, pull myself together, and get back on course. Lifeguards are spread out in canoes along the lake. I swam up to one canoe, and the lifeguard leaned over and said, “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 honestly, I understood. There was a lot going on. My inner critic agreed immediately: “You’re in over your head. Like twelve feet, to be exact. Quitting sounds smart right now.” But I looked up at her. I let go. And I kept swimming. A few meters later, I grabbed another canoe. That lifeguard leaned over and said, “You’re doing good. Not much further. You got this.” Advice. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I let go again… and I finished the swim. I staggered up the bank. My legs felt like lead. My lungs were on fire. I’m coughing up water, exhausted. I get to the bike and basically fall onto it. One foot in front of the other, I pedaled. To this day, I have no clue how I finished those twelve miles, but I got them done. Then came the run. My inner critic stepped out bold: “You still have a third to do? You hate running. Why are we still here?” And my inner go-getter stepped right up: “We only have a third left. You trained for this. Yes. Yes, we’re still here.” And I shimmy-shod, struggled-troubled, stanky-legs all the way across that finish line. I had done it. That race took a lot out of me, but I took more out of it. Because it wasn’t just a triathlon. It was a real-life moment we all face, in different forms. A big decision. A hard situation. Conflicting advice. Or simply the choice to finish what you started. This one, yes. That one, no. And both sides can sound logical. Do I start a new job? Do I begin chemo? Do I finish chemo? Do I move? Do I start a new family? Henry Ford said it like this: “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.” What matters most is what’s within you. You can be your worst critic. No one knows your flaws like you do. But you can also be your biggest cheerleader. No one can push you further or take you higher. So on that next challenge, I’m begging you: look deep within. Find your inner go-getter… and see how far it can push you. I’ve been there. Have you?

Situation

It was the summer of 2021, and I was hitting a milestone birthday. Instead of throwing a party, I decided to do something epic off my bucket list: a triathlon. For anyone unfamiliar, it’s three disciplines: swim, bike, run. Almost immediately, my inner go-getter showed up: “Yeah, let’s do this! Show ’em you still got it.” But my inner critic had notes: “Slow down, hot stuff. You hate swimming. You barely bike. And girl, that swimming thing… you can’t do it.” Two warring sides. Both logical. One decision. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there?

Hindrance

I chose the go-getter. I signed up. I started jogging, I borrowed a bike, and yes friends, I took swim lessons. Eight months of training every day, and I was ready. Race day comes. People are lined up along the bank of a lake for the swim. The whistle blows, and the race is off. Except I’m still standing on the shore. Why? Because my brain could not understand that this dark, dreary cedar water was the same water I learned in at the pool. The pool was clear. You could see the bottom. But this… this was darkness. I tried to put my face in it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I panicked. I looked right and saw my family watching me. I looked left and saw the crowd watching me. And behind me, the next wave of swimmers was coming. I had a choice: go forward into that water… or go back home. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there?

Action

I chose to do the only logical thing any person would do in that situation. I flipped over on my back and started the backstroke. Now, swimming has grace. Beauty. This had neither. This was not swimming. This was surviving. I’m bumping into people, knocking into things, hyperventilating, trying to keep moving. And then I hear, “Ma’am, you’re going the wrong way!” And I’m thinking, “I wonder who they’re talking to.” “Ma’am, 322, you’re going the wrong way!” 322? No… I’m 322. I look over. I’m fifty meters off course. In swim time, that’s not too bad. For me, it was everything. I had to stop, pull myself together, and get back on course. Lifeguards are spread out in canoes along the lake. I swam up to one canoe, and the lifeguard leaned over and said, “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 honestly, I understood. There was a lot going on. My inner critic agreed immediately: “You’re in over your head. Like twelve feet, to be exact. Quitting sounds smart right now.” But I looked up at her. I let go. And I kept swimming. A few meters later, I grabbed another canoe. That lifeguard leaned over and said, “You’re doing good. Not much further. You got this.” Advice. This one, yes. That one, no. Have you been there? I let go again… and I finished the swim.

Result

I staggered up the bank. My legs felt like lead. My lungs were on fire. I’m coughing up water, exhausted. I get to the bike and basically fall onto it. One foot in front of the other, I pedaled. To this day, I have no clue how I finished those twelve miles, but I got them done. Then came the run. My inner critic stepped out bold: “You still have a third to do? You hate running. Why are we still here?” And my inner go-getter stepped right up: “We only have a third left. You trained for this. Yes. Yes, we’re still here.” And I shimmy-shod, struggled-troubled, stanky-legs all the way across that finish line. I had done it. That race took a lot out of me, but I took more out of it.

Evaluation

Because it wasn’t just a triathlon. It was a real-life moment we all face, in different forms. A big decision. A hard situation. Conflicting advice. Or simply the choice to finish what you started. This one, yes. That one, no. And both sides can sound logical. Do I start a new job? Do I begin chemo? Do I finish chemo? Do I move? Do I start a new family? Henry Ford said it like this: “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.” What matters most is what’s within you. You can be your worst critic. No one knows your flaws like you do. But you can also be your biggest cheerleader. No one can push you further or take you higher. So on that next challenge, I’m begging you: look deep within. Find your inner go-getter… and see how far it can push you. I’ve been there. Have you?

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Jocelyn Tyson "Have You Been There?" Speech Analysis | speaking.app