This past weekend I spoke as a featured speaker at the Fitness Summit in Kansas City.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve taken the stage in a similar role. I’ve spoken solo as a coach. I’ve spoken alongside others as a guest. And I’ve been interviewed more times than I can count. Hell, I’ve even taken the stage a few times as an actor.
But this weekend was the first time that I was propped up on stage (a stage I used to idolize) as a strategic communications consultant (a career that is personally still very new) and tried to help people that were not only peers — but many of whom I’ve looked up to throughout my career.
And, you know, I did…just…okay.
I didn’t shit my pants. And not only did I never feel truly uncomfortable—as if I was swimming in waters far too deep—I actually felt wildly confident during *most* of it.
(“Most” being the keyword)
But, with that said, when the talk was done and I passed the microphone off to the MC, I found myself frustrated with how things had gone.
The frustration wasn’t born out of a disdain for the crowd, nor a realization that I was incapable of providing value. Instead, the frustration came from the mistakes I knew I made AS I was making them.
That was the frustrating part: consciously realizing that each mistake made was one that I had control over. And that each of those variables were, when it was all said and done, on me.
The silver lining though, in spite of anything else, was knowing (in the moment) that because these mishaps were controllable — I could, in fact, improve upon them.
So, now 3 days later, with the frustration having waned, here are a few speaking mistakes that I could only discover by speaking. 1Side note: there was also plenty of positive feedback. Really appreciate everyone who said nice things. That wasn’t lost on me.
1) You can’t *expect* (or rely on) the audience to react any certain way
The best parts of my talk were undoubtedly (and unsurprisingly) the parts which were scripted on my end; the intro, the particular lessons, etc.
Unfortunately, that’s not all I had scripted.
Much of my presentation was catered around the idea of reacting to the guests and the questions they may ask. And when I say “catered”, I very literally mean I allocated time to answering questions that may spring up.
Which was probably a great idea…until none sprang up (at least, not until the end).
Looking back, this was a naive thing to expect.
There are things I could have done to encourage more reaction. I could have been proactive by first asking the audience questions myself and getting them involved. I could have gone deeper with a few topics and given them a greater chance to be curious.
To be honest, I could have done a lot of things.
But I didn’t.
And when the questions didn’t come, I found myself quickly realizing one thing: I was relying far too much on the audience to provide the subject matter and not myself.
That was a lesson.
2) You’ve got to lead the listener (or risk losing them)
When prepping for this presentation I made the late decision to take the stage without any slides or PowerPoint.
This was a conscious choice.
We’ve all seen the presenter who relies too heavily on his PowerPoint, robotically reading it word for word, leaving us all looking for opportunities to slip away for a feigned restroom break.
Rather than doing that and relying on a slideshow, I decided to pull a 180 and put the focus on myself — not the screen.
To be honest, in a vacuum, I don’t think this was a terrible decision. But I do think it was one I was (due to the aforementioned reliance on the audience) ill-prepared for.
And that became very apparent anytime I changed up the topic and witnessed the delayed reaction of people noticing the transition.
Without realizing it I had manufactured an obstacle that could have been avoided. And using a visual aid (like a fucking PowerPoint – surprise!) would have helped this a lot.
That was a lesson.
3) Give yourself an anchor
Speaking of absent PowerPoints, this is something that would have gone a long way towards helping myself when I struggled most.
About midway through my presentation, between the delayed realization of transitions and the lack of listener interaction, I found myself getting distracted and my train of thought slipping away.
This was the exact moment that I began realizing not only the mistakes I had made, but also why they were so important.
I was very literally standing in front of dozens of people not only talking, but also thinking about what I could have done better, how that could have helped, and how it was way too late now.
Luckily, I was able to reel my consciousness back to the task at hand.
But this would have been far easier had I looked back and seen my own words staring me in the face. I might still have lost my train of thought occasionally, but it would have helped keep me on track.
Additionally, instead of relying on the audience for interaction, a few SIMPLE slides would have done wonders for providing me the opportunity to truly rely on myself (like I had planned) without sounding like a robot.
In the pursuit of freedom, I had forfeited structure.
That was a lesson.
All in all, here’s my final takeaway:
Speaking this past weekend was something I did genuinely enjoy. And while there were plenty of opportunities for growth there were plenty of things I was also proud of.
I was happy with how engaging my talk was. Whether it was the best points or the worst—I feel confident saying it was never boring.
I was happy with the conversations that followed. In the day or two after my presentation I had more than a couple people approach me with really flattering feedback, a few questions asked, and the chance to help them.
My honest definition of success this weekend was having left Kansas City having helped at least one person. And I felt like I did that.
The lessons learned are just icing on the cake.
By Nick Sorrell.
PS:
Thanks Nick Bromberg for having me. Lou Schuler for being so wildly accommodating and friendly despite us never having met. And Louis Guarino for the dope ass picture (hope you don’t mind me jacking it).
Also, shoutout to the BBQ crew: Jack, Jason, Kiefer, Brit, Derek, Chuck, Alex, Kyle, Jeb, Andrew, and Chase.
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