The Comfort Zone

I'm sitting in an after hours work event. We've had the speech and the presentation and now the guest speaker comes on.
It's Sally Gunnell and she talks about how she won an Olympic gold medal. She's a good speaker. She keeps it short and general enough for it to be relevant to us men in suits.
'Do what you are good at,' she says, 'what you love.'
I shift in my seat. I'm wondering how many people in the room are doing what they love.
'Work at it,' she says, 'get out of your comfort zone.'
My comfort zone is sitting on the sofa in my underwear eating peanuts and watching Battlestar Galactica. But I don't think she means that, I think she means when you just tick over, when there is no risk, when you confuse boredom with security.
She passes around her gold medal. I hold it in my hand, entranced, an actual gold medal, a solid sign of achievement.
Maybe I should get out of my comfort zone. Maybe I could head south of the river, I hear there's more risk down there.