I can tell you the first time I didn’t know an answer on a
test. I was asked to estimate the number of students in my school, and I
couldn’t decide if it was closer to 500 or 600. I was five.
I can tell you the first time I cried about a grade. I
missed a spelling word on my spelling pre-test. I was six.
I can tell you the first time I got a “bad” grade (I got a
check on a scale of check minus, check, and check plus). I was seven.
I am, at best, mildly compulsive about doing my best. I am,
at worst, a perfectionist. Perfectionism is a weakness, because a drive for
perfection cultivates a fear of failure; the fear of failure is a limiting
factor for success because it prevents you from taking advantages of
opportunities when you may not succeed.
Enter the importance of athletics in my life. I am so proud of being a student athlete.
Sure, some NCAA athletes have been under fire for various controversies (UNC scandal, anyone?), but I still love the NCAA commercials that feature student athletes
balancing vocations outside of athletics. I think these athletes would pretty
unanimously say that athletic participation shaped their careers, even when
they “went pro in something other than sports”.
Hence I reach an important way in which athletics have
positively impacted my life; sports have taught me that failure happens. Because
in sports, failure is inevitable and frequent. I’m not necessarily talking about
catastrophic failures here. I’m talking about those times that you try to hit a
risky shot and just barely miss it and those times that you miss your target
pace in a workout by two seconds. Every failure is a learning experience – did
you need a little more topspin to make that shot successful or to pace your
1600 a little more evenly to hit the time? One of my favorite trainer ride
YouTube videos is this Nike commercial with Michael Jordan
Athletics, ripe with opportunities for failure, can be a
stressful place for a perfectionist, until she realizes that you don’t have to be perfect to be a success.
Slowly but surely, athletics teaches a perfectionist that she has to take the
risk of stretching herself beyond her abilities in order to learn, grow, and
advance, and that lesson is critically important not only in sports but in
life.
Thus we arrive at the 2014 Richmond Half Marathon. In mid-June, I had to put training on hold to
tend to my injured ear. On July 15th, I did my first post-injury
run. I ran ten minutes. My next run was
scheduled to be 15 minutes, and I only made it ten. My training in August was
spotty at best with my move and my coach transition. So when I started with
Kyle on September 1st, ten weeks before the half marathon, having
not done a hard or long run in at least ten weeks, I felt confident that the
race was well beyond my capabilities. I
was afraid of entering the race and failing. And, in at least some sense, I
did fail. I stayed on pace for eight miles but failed to hit my goal pace for
the last five miles. I failed to PR despite making some very serious fitness
gains in the last two months. But if I had let my early fear of failure from
training for and competing in the race, I would have missed the opportunity to
feel that starting line rush, to feel the excitement of competing again, and to
feel that burning race day desire to work harder and get stronger in every
single workout as I head into a dark, cold winter training block. Don’t look up
my time in the half marathon. It’s not important. I wasn’t perfect, but I
didn’t need to be. I needed to race again. And that, I did. Successfully.
Special thanks to Kyle, Samone, Lindsay, and my entire training family at Endorphin Fitness. You have made this recovery process considerably more enjoyable.
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