For as long as I can remember I have always been a fan of the underdog, rooting for the team that is going against all odds and statistic based predictions. I remember as a child I would sit beside my father on the couch as we watched sports games. With bright eyes I would ask him which team he was for, as inevtiably this team would become my chosen team as well. Often times when I asked him why he was for the team he was for he would say “well they’re sort of the underdog, it would just be nice to see them win.”

History shines a bright light upon those who have fought against the strongest shadows and the most insurmountable odds. We pass on the stories of armies who have conquered valleys of men five times greater in number, of heroes who have triumphed over kingdoms, men and women who have changed the course of thousands of lives with their own. There is this feeling within us, a flicker that bursts into flame when expectations are shattered by actions, when records are re-written, and when a once unknown face becomes a symbol. Inspiration burns brightly within us and we rise to our occasions, pursuing passions and making dreams realities. We no longer put as much stock in the numbers or percentages, nor do we place our faith in the naysayers. We have witnessed a victory that cannot be explained by anything other than a series of actions inspired by something much deeper than what our eyes could see, something that can only be felt.

I’m sure that many of us have heard the story of the tortoise and the hare. For those of you who have not been told or read the tale, I will recount it here as it was told to me. One day, a spry young rabbit was bragging about how fast he could run, a day not unlike any other for often he spent his hours recalling his feats of athletic greatness. Quite tired of hearing this rabbit brag about himself, a tortoise challenged him to a race and all of the forest animals gathered in eager to watch them.With a smug and pompous attitude, the rabbit ridiculed his new rival before the race began, exceptionally confident that he would win. After all, it is common knowledge that rabbits are very swift runners and exceptionally capable of carrying themselves with ease and agility. The rabbit sped off on the course and, seeing the turtle so far behind him moving at such a slow pace, decided that he had found a pleasant time to take a nap. The tortoise, however, continued to press forward, one foot in front of the other as he plodded about his merry way with great determination. When he neared the finish line the forest animals cheered so loudly and with such eager that they awoke the sleeping hare. Startled to see his fellow competitor so close to the finish line, he rushed onwards with great haste. His legs, however, could not carry him fast enough to the end and the tortoise was the winner of the contest.

By any standards, statistics, and public opinions, the hare should have won the race based upon what he was capable of doing. The hare had probably won quite a few races in his time and perhaps somewhere in the forest there was a burrow highly decorated with ribbons and shining medals. He had beaten faster opponents than the humble reptile, possibly set a record or two in the forest books.

However, merely being capable of winning the race does not win it. One must run the race in it’s entirety.

In our careers as photographers we find ourselves in the final stretch of our races, in fourth quarters, in brief moments when every action matters. And while the downfall of the hare was his pride, ours are perhaps darker – fears, doubts. So often we find that there are these limits we place on ourselves “Oh, well I’ve never taken on an assignment like that before…” or “I’m just too tired to go out and shoot…there’s nothing out there anyway.” or “I don’t have all the proper gear…” or “I don’t have the people skills…”

Our fears, our doubts, our worries are the equivalent of the hare’s slumber – they put us behind in our own race, making us blind to the success that is right in front of us that we can obtain by action, by opening our eyes and reaching. But we must push past these barriers, mental and physical, to prove to ourselves that we are capable of so much more than we think, to snap ourselves out of this slumber’s equivalent of self doubt, anxiety, and trepidation.

But as I stated, being capable does not create photographs any more than it does winning races, actions create photographs and cross finish lines. Former shots and moments of accolade will not mean anything when your name is called and you must rise to the occasion – your photographs on the wall cannot help you, nor can those awards, blog comments, or retweets. We cannot rely on past achievements to fuel future successes – we must always approach every photograph and moment in our careers with the same attitude and mindset of pressing onward and striving for excellence. We must start at the race with that decisive mindset, pushing back those negative thought swarms that can plague us, or in some instances (similiar to the hare’s) becoming almost apathetic to the situation knowing we’ve been in similiar races and we can perform again. Until the game is over, until we have crossed the finish line, until the camera is in the bag, we cannot stop the pace of pursuing our win, whatever it may be for each and every one of us.

At the end of our lives, people won’t remember what we could have done, they will remember what we have done. History is forgetful about those who have given up, of those who have limited themselves to their mental restraints and given in to their inner demons. We can’t sit by and let fleeting emotions, fears and feelings control our lives – we have to push forward and find new heights to climb, stones that must be overturned. With a camera in your hands you are capable of amazing and terrific things, but you will never know and experience them firsthand until you press the shutter…and then press it over and over again, striving for every image to be that finish line.

History does not recall the capable, it remembers those who act.