“Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts.” — Winston Churchill
At Hamster Endurance, I ran 67.6 miles. By some measures, running 67.6 miles on a leg that’s not fully recovered from an injury seems like it ought to be a smashing success. Running 67.6 miles is a significant feat even without the leg problem. Throw in the leg issue and 67.6 looks sort of badass.
But viewed from the perspective of my goal of 101.4, 67.6 looks like a failure. It’s 2/3rds of my goal distance. I worked so hard, and to come up short just feels… disappointing.
It’s easy to remind myself of the Churchill quote. It’s easy to remind myself that the difference between success and failure is a matter of viewpoint and perspective.
It’s hard to sit here, hamstring aching, looking at ‘67.6’ in the race results next to my name, and not feel bad.
But there’s only one way to avoid failures, and that’s to only attempt things where success is certain. I did that for far too long, and I don’t think I can go back to being that person. It’s better to try for big and fail than to live small. We all get just one life, and as I get older I’m becoming acutely aware of just how little of mine I have left. I can’t afford to waste it.