Do you believe that giving a speech is an honor or a gift?  Should the audience be grateful that you’ve made the effort, or should you be grateful that they’ve shown up? 

The correct answer is all of the above, surely.  And as such, and especially in this virtual era, getting a group of people together is an occasion to be celebrated at the very least.  And also continued in a variety of ways after the fact.  How can you keep the effect of an event alive, and avoid the all-too-common phenomenon of the “mountaintop experience” where the glow of the event quickly fades?  And how can you take care of yourself?  Following are three ways to give your speech an afterlife, and three ways to keep the wear and tear on you to a minimum.  First, the afterlife.

Come for the speech, stay for the connections.  While you’re still high on adrenaline, work the crowd, take the selfies, get out the tweets, and generally do what you can to extend the virtual life of your real event.  George Bernard Shaw was famous for writing glowing reviews of his own plays, even when their success was minimal. I don’t recommend such subterfuges in the digital era, but you don’t have to.  Now you can get participants other than yourself to carry the ball for you. Get the Twitter machine cranking.

But don’t do the ‘humble brag’.  I think the time for that maneuver is past; I may be in a minority on this call, but I don’t care.  I find statements on social media like, “so humbled to receive the Most Magnificent Lifetime Achievement Award in front of 10,000 of my most personal friends!” to be repulsive, and transparently so.  It’s part of what makes more time spent on Facebook more depressing for the rest of us – don’t add to it. 

Follow up with contests, trivia games, blog posts, ongoing emails and newsletters to participants that give you their email address, and so on.  One way to make a speech into a real conversation is to bring the audience in after the fact (with their permission).  Invite them to opt-in for a series of ongoing interactive opportunities.  Only to be limited by your imagination and the enthusiasm of your audience. 

Then, the self-care. 

Don’t ask for critiques for at least 24 hours.  Don’t fall for the “while it’s fresh in my mind” trap from someone who offers you (even) a friendly critique.  It’s too fresh in your mind.  You need to get a little distance so that you can hear the suggestions for improvement with dispassion and clarity. While the adrenaline lasts, all you can truly stand to hear is (genuine) praise. 

Once the post-event hoopla is over, change the subject.  You need to allow the adrenaline cycle to play itself out completely.  So get some exercise, meditate, watch a movie or a favorite TV show, read a book, go for a walk in tranquil – or distracting – surroundings.  Whatever works best for you not to keep working, do that.   

Finally, let it go.  I struggle with this one, so it’s advice to myself as much as to anyone who reads this piece.  You can’t change what’s past.  Of course, you want to learn from what went well and what didn’t, but don’t carry either the sense of invulnerability or tragedy with you if at all possible.  Just. Let. It. Go.  Last time I checked, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to change the past. 

Follow these tips to extend the life of the speech and the speaker – in good ways.