Risk Is Reward

RISK = a situation involving exposure to danger; the possibility that something unpleasant or unwelcome will happen.

REWARD = a thing given in recognition of service, effort, or achievement.

Would you risk paying to see Tony Hawk not skate?

I recently went to a public talk evening with Tony Hawk, to celebrate 25 years of his culture-charging Pro Skater game. Initially I wasn’t going to attend, as I have been following his skating exploits through varied media since not long after I began skating, and hence thought that I would have heard all of his stories already. However, Shannon from Terrible Happy Talks podcast convinced me to go, spruiking to me that I’d at least get some blog content out of it. So, I went along, thinking, and hoping, that he’d likely bring something new to the table by for us Tony/Powell fans.

Unfortunately, my selfish expectations were dashed, as he just went through a timeline of career “moments” that I already knew, without much depth into any of the why or how, which left me (and Shannon) feeling a little disappointed, not to mention blog-less..!
Yet upon some deeper analysis, it lead me to what I deemed a worthy reflection.

The Birdman steps up to another platform to give a different type of public performance to his usual ones.

 The phrases “risk verse reward” or “risk to reward ratio” are most commonly used in society in financial speak, and also in terms of physical activities, which may put our bodies in harm’s way, and what outcome that may be worth. Any “extreme” sports athlete (which yes, sadly that term includes skateboarders) is generally well versed in this, yet quite particularly those who aren’t getting paid for their activity of choice, and more-so those who may be risking time or security at their “real” jobs through getting hurt via their free-time passion.
However, I believe that it can be applied to so many things in life, and even rephrased to state “Risk Is Reward”. You see, when we risk any form of our perceived sense of safety or security, be it physical (such as jumping out of a plane, or trying a 20 stair handrail), financial (by gambling money on the stock market or investing in a business), emotional (asking out a potential girlfriend or boyfriend, or confronting a friend or loved one with an issue etc) or the like, then we are risking something valuable to us, like our life or limbs, our bank balance, or our pride, ego or perhaps a friendship. But whatever the outcome is, aside from death or permanent disability perhaps, we will most likely gain something from the experience. If we are successful, we may win or earn some money, get an amazing adrenaline rush, attain the desired attention of someone we are attracted to, or achieve peace of mind within a relationship.
Some of these things, if you’re really successful or fortunate, may last a lifetime. But for the most part, they generally last merely a few minutes, hours, or days if we’re lucky. Yet we may deem such fleeting moments to be so euphoric, that we may want to cling to those moments for as long as possible, and we will likely strive to create more of them ASAP to achieve that feeling again. This striving feature of humanity, I believe, is a huge part of what has made the material world around us, from the homes that we live in (“I want a home with a door”), to the toys that we play with (“I want another or better car”). Doing new tricks skating can definitely fall into this realm (“I want to do a bigger kickflip”).

However, when one is not successful, then that is when we have the greatest chance of learning more deeply from something that may have affected us, and perhaps it could change our lives, but in ways we didn’t necessarily anticipate. At the very least, we may know better what not to do next time.

It is often said in spiritual and self-help circles that we only truly & deeply learn from our adversities, and not so much from our successes. But our successes, no matter how big or small, and whether we realise it or not, are essentially used as the fuel to supply us with the confidence and motivational energy to carry us through our losses or harder moments, and keep us chipping away at the task(s) at hand.

My local coffee shop provides more than just tasty beverages & snacks!

 With all risk, we basically hope for the best, but with a calculated risk, we tend to prepare for the worst. An experienced skater (or an experienced anyone, really) usually undertakes a calculated risk; from having achieved at least a similar move previously, we may try something a little bigger, or a variation of a trick, with the understanding that we’ve prepared by practising a trick x-amount of times, on a similar terrain or obstacle. The inexperienced participant is quite possibly more at risk of danger from a lack of preparation. Practise & repetition = experienced. No practise or repetition = bravery, or perhaps, some may say, stupidity.
Sometimes, though, no matter the preparation, we just have to go for it, and trust our instincts, like the Wright brothers did in 1903, risking their own lives with their first aeroplane flight. Now millions of people regularly traverse the globe (relatively) safely, albeit with a known risk.

I knowingly put my money and time on the line when I went to the theatre that night.

Tony (somewhat) risked his well-earned (skate) reputation by putting himself on show in a completely different medium, which some appreciated, and others not so much. But either way, he did it (and let’s face it, he doesn’t need the money (I assume).

I had expectations of a particular outcome that didn’t eventuate, yet I attained a different outcome, which was a reiterative learning experience (that I could write about and post!), of which I am equally grateful for.
Tony likely didn’t lose any fans with his talk evenings, but I’m sure that he created some new ones with his stories to the previously unversed in the diverse crowds that attended.

Not all art has to be pretty to get a message across.

 So the next time you find yourself thinking “should I or shouldn’t I..?”, you may first ask yourself, what have I got to lose? But perhaps you could reframe it to: what do I stand to gain? Possibly some fun; or maybe a deeper understanding of something within yourself.

But if you never go, you’ll never know.

Therefore, risk is indeed its own reward.

Article authored by Ti Coleing, lifelong skateboarder, industry guy, and head coach & fun-provider at Flow:Skate.
We offer coaching for all levels, however our main focus is intermediate to advanced skaters looking to take their skills & mental fortitude to the next level.