I’ll never forget the first couple of times I attended motivational talks. I was only eight years old! First, sitting in the front, I listened to the University of Utah swimming coach, who came to the Philippines with his team for a training camp. He said (and I remember the key words distinctly) that to be a champion, one needs desire and determination. Next, and more significant in my memory, sitting in the front again, I listened to three-time Olympic gold medalist in swimming, American Debbie Meyer, tell us Filipino kids she practiced so hard for the 1968 Mexico City Olympiad that there was no such thing as a rest day or holiday. She swam during Christmas, New Year, Easter, her birthday, etc.

I’ve attended many more talks over the years, with varying themes and industries. Some memorable ones would be sitting (you guessed it – in the front) with hundreds of film fans and aspiring filmmakers when Quentin Tarantino came to town. He said those present will be the future of Philippine cinema. Another was Silicon Valley pioneer Dado Banatao, whose message to MBA students and professors was straightforward: love what you do, and never give up. I wrote pages and pages of notes when swim coach, Bob Bowman, gave two lectures on how he trained his wonder boy, Michael Phelps. And I’ll always take to heart Ramon R. del Rosario, Jr. and Fernando Zobel’s separate speeches on corporate social responsibility.

There are dozens of these motivational speaking engagements going on daily, big or small, all over the world. You’d think all those attending and getting motivated would turn these great ideas and fantastic inspiration into some kind of world-changing positive energy. If you really believe gurus like Tony Robbins and John C. Maxwell, then you have no excuse not to be a great leader and super successful. People invest so much time and money to be thrilled by these talks; self-help books are bestsellers, sports stars like Jack Nicklaus charge over $100,000 per engagement, while Lance Armstrong earns double that. So how come there aren’t more 7-time Tour de France champions?

It’s obvious that extraordinary circumstances (perhaps the era one is born in, nationality, training, proper support, and a whole lot of luck) plus God-given natural talent, and/or fate bring these world-renowned champions, celebrities, composers, scientists, philosophers, businessmen, and billionaires to a higher-level. Author Malcolm Gladwell discussed this concept with a lot of convincing arguments in his bestseller Outliers. Fact is, there will only be one Bill Gates and one Usain Bolt. We can’t all be the world’s richest or the world’s fastest. Nonetheless, these speakers say we can all be outstanding in whatever it is we choose to do.

That eight year old kid who listened to and was coached for a few days by Debbie Meyer believed her. If we work hard for our goals, they are achievable. Such simple words: set a goal, do it right, work hard, achieve, success, satisfaction. By the time I was 16, I stood on the podium of a major swimming meet in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and guess who presented me my medal - Debbie Meyer. I don’t know who was happier, Debbie or me (most probably it was my mom). Who knows if Quentin Tarantino will ever hand me a film award, but I certainly understand a motivational speaker’s message when I hear one – you can’t earn anything without trying. So, does anyone know Uma Thurman’s number?

Of course, trophies, money, or fame should not be the only measure. There will always be someone faster or someone will always have more fans, and if we are counting points, someone will always have more points. I don’t deny that society likes numbers because numbers don’t lie. But motivational speakers who go up there and simply read their CVs are the worst kind. What I glean from the most inspirational of these speakers is that they’ve humanized their struggles, they are just like you and me, and they hardly talk about actual results (we already know their achievements – they are famous – and also because the persons introducing these speakers have read their résumés!).

Therefore, Mr. Phelps, if ever you grace us with your greatness, please don’t talk about your eight, or what you ate (or smoked) – we know already. Just tell us what you love or hate, and make us believe that we too can be as great. Not in swimming, of course, but in living. Now that I’ve earned some kind of “success” and if I had a chance to give a motivational talk (or write a column), my message for living would be this - believe in what motivational speakers have to say because we believed them when they motivated us that one time too.