I had no idea how being an Olympic athlete could be the biggest part of my prep as I stepped into a MLB broadcast booth for the first time.
I couldn't sleep the night before. I had nerves, doubts -- there were a lot of unknowns. How would I do? Would I screw this up? Not just for me but for any woman who was counting on having this same opportunity.
I wondered if I could I get into a rhythm with the team around me -- the producer, the director, the play-by-play announcer -- and not be the odd person out. The pressure was mounting as game time approached. I couldn't eat (which for anyone who knows me is as rare as a no-hitter) and was struggling just to breathe.
But then I remembered: I'd been there before.
Not in those exact circumstances, but I had felt that way before, right before my very first at-bat in the Athens Olympics in 2004. It was a moment I'd dreamed about my entire life, and there I was trying to put one foot in front of the other just to make it to the batter's box. I ended up hitting a triple off the wall to right field.
What did I learn from moments like that? I love pressure. I crave pressure. Something in my makeup wants to be in these out-of-my-comfort-zone, everything-is-on-my-shoulders moments, because that is when the magic really happens.
Billie Jean King so famously said, "Pressure is a privilege." That's how I feel when it's my turn to rise to the occasion, no matter how fast my heart is beating or how uncomfortable I might feel. I want this.
Fast-forward to this August. I remember a smile creeping across my face as I went to put on my headset and got on air for the first time in a major league baseball game. I kept telling myself, "I've got this." The doubt (and questions) disappeared. I was confident in my knowledge and my prep.
I also knew I needed to say everything with 100 percent conviction. The doubters would be there, especially because I was different. And I was OK with that, because at the end of the day, they didn't matter.
That smile got me back to what I was doing: analyzing some baseball, talking about a sport I love, that I know, that I have played and, more important, now got to share with people.
That will continue as long as I'm in this job: I want to be a genderless voice providing some depth to what viewers see in front of them.
I think we can all challenge ourselves to break some barriers if we stop listening to doubters and start doing what we are confident in, regardless of the limitations. It doesn't mean the path will be easy; it certainly hasn't been for me. But the challenge has made me work even harder.
I don't want to just knock on the door, I want to bust it down so anyone who comes after me can feel the confidence to do the same.