I teed it up recently in the Salem City Championship at Olde Salem Greens, joining forty-three other men and women in the annual tournament.  In doing so, I made some discoveries about competition, and learned a lot about myself.

Let me start by acknowledging that competition is not for everybody.  I can respect that—golf, after all, is a game; and many prefer to enjoy it without adding stress or pressure from competition.  But, I view it differently—I’ve had the dream of performing well and rising to the challenge of competition.  I’ve wondered if I had the fortitude to stay calm and balanced “under pressure.”

In deciding whether to enter this tournament, I admit to doubting my golf game and my ability to play well “under pressure.”  My game has improved, but I still have holes, and rounds, that get away from me.  What if I shot a big number?  I know my name and score would be posted with the other competitors.  What would “everyone” say or think?

I used to worry a lot about judgment, about what other people thought.  Until I really noticed how often it kept me from trying new adventures and really enjoying and living my life!  Now, I try to catch myself when I’m heading down that path—like questioning whether to enter the tournament.  I asked myself to imagine the worst that might happen—I shoot a horrible round, maybe come in last place?  Well, someone’s going to come in last place, so it certainly could be me.  But, realistically, if it was me, I’d likely get teased for a while, but I know it would soon pass and be forgotten.

Then, I challenged myself to imagine the best that could happen—I shoot really well, my best round ever.  Maybe even win my division!  And, the only way I’d have a chance of that happening would be if I played in the tournament.

So, I played.

In working on this piece, I was talking with my life coach friend, who asked me if I had ever been “in the zone,” but not won.  I quickly responded, “No.”  I’ve certainly heard about Michael Jordan and other athletes being “in the zone” with the game on the line and making that final shot, but I couldn’t recall hearing of an athlete who was on a hot streak and playing over their head, only to end up losing.

Until I remembered myself.  I had shot my lowest 18-hole score ever.  I made two birdies in my round, when I rarely make any birdies.  And I still lost by five strokes.  But, I never thought of it as losing.  I had played the round of my life.  I guess I was “in the zone.”  Even now, it feels like a victory.

I learned a deeper lesson about myself by playing in the tournament.  I wish to dare greatly, because I want to experience those moments when I pull off the shot I need to hit, or sink the putt, or shoot the score I need, in the crucible of competition.  And, of this I’m sure: if I do not dare to enter the arena and tee up that first ball, I will already have lost.  Every time.