Redefining Failing

January 1st, 2023; 5:52PM

I have a fear of failing that prevents me from being 100% committed to eating healthy and exercising.

This morning, on my walk around Charley Brown Park, I had a memory flash through my mind. It is one that resurfaces every now and then, mostly when I’m doing mindless physical activity.

When I was sixteen years old, I was running laps around the high school during volleyball practice. It was hot and sticky, and I wanted to be anywhere but there. As I was coming up the sidewalk on the South side, breathing heavy, shins burning, and a sharp pain in my side, I saw a teacher walking to their car. This was a teacher I had known since I was twelve years old and respected. We made eye contact, and probably sensing my struggle, they said to me in a lighthearted tone, “well, someone has to be last.” In the moment, I laughed it off in a self-deprecating way but as soon as the door on their car slammed shut, tears filled my eyes.

After having nearly 25 years of distance between that day and now, I know the teacher’s words were not meant to be mocking or malicious. It was nothing more than a stupid comment with the intent to make light of the situation. But in that moment, it unlocked an insecurity from deep inside me. Their words hurt because while it’s true, I was last, and logically speaking, someone does have to be last, in my mind being last meant I was failing. And even worse, someone noticed I was failing.

Growing up I was never the best at anything, but I was also not the worst. By the time I graduated high school, I had started to settle comfortably into mediocrity. I didn’t always like it and sometimes it hurt. But I knew that I could, without a doubt, count on myself to securely be somewhere in the middle at anything I did. Occasionally I would find myself on the high end of the curve and at times it was the lower end, but nevertheless, I was consistently and reliably right in the middle. Unfortunately, that theory did not apply to physical activity.

I am not an athlete. I have never truly enjoyed playing sports. Despite committing to six volleyball seasons from junior high to high school, the only truly positive memories I have involve the time I spent making friends on the bus rides home from away games. Regardless, I did the best I could with what I had to work with, which in my case, wasn’t always much. And on the day of this encounter, all I had to work with was being an out of shape chubby teenager, who loathed running, trying to finish a lap around the high school without kneeling over and dying.

Some people would have used that teacher’s words as motivation to do better, work harder, or practice more so that they don’t have to be last. I am not one of those people. If I was, I wouldn’t have been last to begin with. Instead, I am a person who fears failing so much that I do one of two things: 1. I don’t take chances and do things I’m not good at. And 2. When I do something that is in my wheelhouse, I complicate it by wanting it to be perfect.

When it comes to working out and eating healthy, I often struggle to stick with it because I think to myself, “I always fail at this and if I fail, what’s the point of even trying.” A couple of summers ago I engaged in online therapy and when I told my therapist I had a fear of failing at being healthy she reminded me that when we don’t take chances, we cheat ourselves out of an opportunity to have some grace with ourselves.

Twenty-five years ago, the reframe I should have put on my teacher’s words were “I may be last but at least I’m finishing.” Sixteen-year-old me couldn’t see that even though I was last, I was still running the laps and I was going to show up tomorrow and run the laps again. I would end up running as many laps as my coach told me to run even though I hated every minute of it and even if I did come in last every time. I should have been proud of that because there really isn’t anything wrong with being last. Being last means I finished.

In 2023, I’m redefining failing. If failing is what I fear, then I’m giving it a new meaning. This year, the definition of failing is not finishing. I’m giving myself the grace to be bad at it. I’m giving myself permission to not even be mediocre at it. I can be 100%, wholeheartedly, the worst at being healthy, and the only expectation is that I must finish the year without giving up. Someone must be last; it might as well be me.

P.S. Since I've done more traveling than writing about it in the last few years, I'm going to add an "about the photo" section to my posts so I can share about the places I've visited and also stick to my plan of sharing about my goals in 2023.

About the photo: Taken on New Year's Eve in Hilton Head, SC at the Old Oyster Factory. In 2020 and 2021 I vacationed with my mom and dad to Hilton Head over Christmas break and both years we ate there on New Year's Eve. We like to sit outside for the best view of the bay. Never underestimate a South Carolina sunset. The steak and lobster tail are my favorite. The crab dip is divine. And it all tastes even better when my dad offers to pay. 10/10 recommend.