Dressed and Ready

When I was playing lacrosse at Notre Dame my coach, Tracy, told the team to be "dressed and ready to go" about three hours before the opening draw of the game. Dressed and ready meant uniform on, pump-up music off, eyes on and ears open to our all-wise and powerful head coach. "Dressed and ready" took me and my teammates out of our roles as students and into our realm as star athletes, where our following of loyal fans, which was entirely comprised of family relations, really good friends, and an odd assortment of townies and professors who adopted a cult following of women's lacrosse, would cheer us on by name and number.

My transition from student to athlete started as I stripped out of my typical art-historian wardrobe of J.Crew high waisted jeans, white t-shirt, cardigan sweater, Ann Klein loafers, and Vera Bradley tote. (Yes, I have always dressed like a 45-year-old mother-of-four.) In the locker room, and set to the rhythms and lyrics of my team's favorite rappers, I started to shed my somewhat dorky, snooty, and perceived mature persona into a rendering of a tough, brusque, and hot lacrosse player. As I misquoted Big Poppa, I would pull on my under-layer of spandex and sports-bras; and as I awkwardly bobbed to Snoop Dogg, I delved into my the outer-layer made up of my #7 jersey, gold kilt, cleats, and a sweat band that I strategically positioned under my bicep to make my arms look more defined. My long strait hair was swept into a ponytail that I would clasp again at the bottom so it would swing together as I ran down the field. Next, I would go to the mirror to complete my look - adding the finishing touch - I crowned myself with a striped head band, given to me by my brother with the explicit directions to be more gangster. Now I was officially "dressed and ready to go."

My art history, literature, Italian, and acting teachers never would have suspected that #7 was the same girl that raised her hand enthusiastically in the front row of their classes. My lacrosse garb enabled me to be something that I never thought imaginable - the first home and one of the leading scorers for the number-two team in division 1 varsity lacrosse.

Today I woke up and got dressed and ready for work. This is a much less interesting process, but one that I take with the same amount of seriousness that I applied to my lacrosse game preparations. It starts by shedding layers of Under Armour and revitalizing my raw body in the tepid water of my shower. I then lather up in lotion to reduce my over-active static electricity problem, apply make-up in a methodical way, and then open my closet to assemble an outfit for work. Everyday it is basically the same (I actually wonder if my co-workers think that I don't wash my clothes.) I choose a set from a collection of strategically purchased and well-tailored black and gray pants, camisoles, sweaters, and boots.

If you've ever seen one of those movies where the main character opens up his or her closet and everything looks exactly the same, that is me. I have invested in buying not just one of two of what I like, but a whole closet of clothes that I love and inherently look exactly the same. It is because I feel comfortable and confident in the work-day uniform that I have pulled together. I feel that this ensemble perfectly promotes my persona at work - It says sound, smart, sophisticated, savvy, success-driven, with an undertone of sass.

As a side note, my weekend look comes from my other closet - my fun closet. It is where my boxes of expensive shoes, gold-lame gloves, fedora hats, scarves, small and large handbags, and a myriad of flouncy, colorful dresses live. This is my costume closet, where I play and promote the creative side of myself on the weekends.

After I blow dry my hair, I glance in the mirror one last time, apply another round of lip-gloss, smack my lips together, and say, alright dominant QSR, here I come! I finish my work-mode prep by tuning into the liberal banter of NPR morning news during my commute. This is my new version of pump-up music for the corporate games I am about to play. It prepares me to combat politics, contribute to technological conversations, and quote stock market predictions with ease.

My rituals of preparation to compete on the lacrosse field and those to compete in corporate America are quite different, but the underlying concept is still there. If I would have come out to play unfocused, tired, or scared, me and my team would have had to play a lot of catch up in the second half, which always made Tracy mad. In corporate America, my pursuits are much the same; to outsmart, outplay, out-hustle, and ultimately knock off the competition with a group of contributors fighting for the same cause. I have to be ready to go the moment I walk off the elevator each day, because if I'm not, I might end up back on the bench.

The point here:

Get pumped-up and psyched for what you are about to do today. If you are not dressed and ready to go, you might be making up some tough ground later in the day, or later in life.

Sustain that feeling throughout the day, even when it comes down to the homestretch - those last five minutes could be the game breaker.

When you have victories along the way, celebrate them with your teammates. (Cristine, watch out! I might even give you a shimmy shake, which is the lacrosse version of a chest bump, when we nail our next benchmark.)

When you've won ten games in a row, don't let up. You still have the rest of your season ahead when some young unassuming team can catch you off guard.

And I'm not thinking about the end of the game right now - I just made it off the bench, earned a starting position, and am taking steps to be a key contributor.


Lo.