e room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my fr

I remember my first 'public speaking' gig about twenty years ago. Unfortunately.

It was a massive affair(!) ...I was doing a lecture to twelve students who were completing their fitness instructor accreditation. I had to talk for one hour. I spent two weeks preparing. Every day for those two weeks I wrote notes, re-wrote notes, planned, visualised, rehearsed (in my head) and generally stressed. For the amount of time, effort and preparation I put in, I probably earned about seventy five cents per hour for the whole experience.

Oh yes... I had surely arrived as a public speaker. An orator of some note. Not. It's fair to suggest that Tony Robbins was in no immediate danger.

The big day came and I arrived at the venue (a health club) forty five minutes early (can't be too careful when it comes to traffic delays). I sat in my car and hyper-ventilated. I studied my volumes of notes. Again. I was so nervous I could actually feel the pulse in the side of my neck. I went inside and walked straight to the change rooms. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. I looked a little pastey. Grey, perhaps. My light blue shirt was now a nice blend of light.. and dark blue.

Yes, that's right; the world's most nervous man had sweated himself into a frenzy. I looked like I'd just run a half-marathon... in business pants, slip-on shoes and a shirt.

Attractive.

So, there I was... standing in front of the mirror, back-stroking in my own body fluids, looking at the sweat patches extending from my armpits to my hips, trying to figure out how on earth I was gonna dry my shirt, stop sweating, get my heart rate under one fifty and not freeze in front of my massive audience.

Very cool. Let's just say that my confidence wasn't at an all-time high at this point.

So I took my shirt off (I had no option) and decided to commandeer the only hand dryer (shirt dryer) in a pathetic attempt to address the sweat factor... four minutes later I'm standing half naked in a public washroom with a semi-dry shirt, looking like some kinda weirdo, vagrant... when the guy who was employing me to speak, walked in.

"Man, I've been looking for you."

Perfect.

So instantly my anxiety had two friends; humiliation and embarrassment.

After stumbling my way through some lame-ass explanation of my semi-nude state, my 'employer' hesitantly marched me up the corridor to meet my class.

He gave me some under-whelming introduction (understandably) and left the room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my fri

s fair to suggest that Tony Robbins was in no immediate danger.

The big day came and I arrived at the venue (a health club) forty five minutes early (can't be too careful when it comes to traffic delays). I sat in my car and hyper-ventilated. I studied my volumes of notes. Again. I was so nervous I could actually feel the pulse in the side of my neck. I went inside and walked straight to the change rooms. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. I looked a little pastey. Grey, perhaps. My light blue shirt was now a nice blend of light.. and dark blue.

Yes, that's right; the world's most nervous man had sweated himself into a frenzy. I looked like I'd just run a half-marathon... in business pants, slip-on shoes and a shirt.

Attractive.

So, there I was... standing in front of the mirror, back-stroking in my own body fluids, looking at the sweat patches extending from my armpits to my hips, trying to figure out how on earth I was gonna dry my shirt, stop sweating, get my heart rate under one fifty and not freeze in front of my massive audience.

Very cool. Let's just say that my confidence wasn't at an all-time high at this point.

So I took my shirt off (I had no option) and decided to commandeer the only hand dryer (shirt dryer) in a pathetic attempt to address the sweat factor... four minutes later I'm standing half naked in a public washroom with a semi-dry shirt, looking like some kinda weirdo, vagrant... when the guy who was employing me to speak, walked in.

"Man, I've been looking for you."

Perfect.

So instantly my anxiety had two friends; humiliation and embarrassment.

After stumbling my way through some lame-ass explanation of my semi-nude state, my 'employer' hesitantly marched me up the corridor to meet my class.

He gave me some under-whelming introduction (understandably) and left the room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my fr

n had sweated himself into a frenzy. I looked like I'd just run a half-marathon... in business pants, slip-on shoes and a shirt.

Attractive.

So, there I was... standing in front of the mirror, back-stroking in my own body fluids, looking at the sweat patches extending from my armpits to my hips, trying to figure out how on earth I was gonna dry my shirt, stop sweating, get my heart rate under one fifty and not freeze in front of my massive audience.

Very cool. Let's just say that my confidence wasn't at an all-time high at this point.

So I took my shirt off (I had no option) and decided to commandeer the only hand dryer (shirt dryer) in a pathetic attempt to address the sweat factor... four minutes later I'm standing half naked in a public washroom with a semi-dry shirt, looking like some kinda weirdo, vagrant... when the guy who was employing me to speak, walked in.

"Man, I've been looking for you."

Perfect.

So instantly my anxiety had two friends; humiliation and embarrassment.

After stumbling my way through some lame-ass explanation of my semi-nude state, my 'employer' hesitantly marched me up the corridor to meet my class.

He gave me some under-whelming introduction (understandably) and left the room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my fr

only hand dryer (shirt dryer) in a pathetic attempt to address the sweat factor... four minutes later I'm standing half naked in a public washroom with a semi-dry shirt, looking like some kinda weirdo, vagrant... when the guy who was employing me to speak, walked in.

"Man, I've been looking for you."

Perfect.

So instantly my anxiety had two friends; humiliation and embarrassment.

After stumbling my way through some lame-ass explanation of my semi-nude state, my 'employer' hesitantly marched me up the corridor to meet my class.

He gave me some under-whelming introduction (understandably) and left the room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my fr

e room. My stomach churned, my mouth went dry and my heart rate hit four hundred and twenty five. I turned to my vast audience and smiled. Not one person smiled back. Not one! My heart rate hit six hundred and fifteen. I felt my armpits spring into action.

For the next hour I bumbled, stumbled and sweated my way through, what will go down as, one of history's worst displays of public speaking. You probably think I'm gonna say I was crap; I actually wasn't.

I wish I was crap.

Crap would have been an improvement. In fact, following my first effort... crap was my goal.

Before the lecture one of my friends suggested that I should make the session interactive to take some pressure and attention off me being the only one speaking.... good idea.

In theory.

So after a fifteen minute sweaty monologue, I've opted for the old:

"Okay guys, any questions.... thoughts.....? "Anything!" "Please". "Someone".

Absolute donuts. They gave me.... nuthin!.

A sea of blank faces (well twelve of them anyway).

After my less-than impressive(!) debut I was packing up and everyone except one girl had left. She walked toward me and for one delusional moment, I thought she might put my mind at ease and tell me I wasn't so bad.

"You haven't done that before have you?" "No.. does it show?" "Yep." "Err, okay... anything else?" "You talk too fast."

My overall emotion was starting to move from a general sickness, to more of a full-body numbness.

"Alrighty... thanks for the feedback. See you next week." "Oh, do we have you next week too?" "Yes, you have me for the next five weeks."

"Oh."

And with those words of encouragement, she took her books and my remaining self-esteem and left.

Since that day I have done thousands of talks, worked on several continents, delivered numerous corporate presentations, University lectures, workshops, hosted hundreds of radio shows and made many TV appearances.

Amazingly.

So.... I finished my teaching commitment with my twelve students and over the course of the six weeks my speaking performance moved from... atrocious.... to crap.... to mediocre. I was so happy to be mediocre.

I changed from the light blue (how-much-can-one-man-sweat?) shirt to the black (doesn't-show-the-sweat) T-Shirt, learned to control my nerves a little, got my heart rate under three hundred and slowly began to develop my public speaking skills. To say it was an uncomfortable and confronting process would be a massive understatement.

It was nerve-wracking. And fantastic. I hated it. And loved it. I learned about people. And about me.

Tomorrow (Thursday) morning I have one of my regular TV gigs on Network Ten here in Australia. I will talk to 400,000 people live and will have way less nerves and way more fun than when I taught those twelve fitness students twenty years ago. This weekend I will do nine hours of live talkback radio on two different stations... and have a ball.

I don't tell you any of this to impress you, but rather, to impress upon you that we can all do and create amazing (whatever our a