Competitive Wellness Series - Failure as the Challenge

I recently trekked to Garrettsville, Ohio for a Spartan obstacle race. Participating in the “Beast” version of the event, I had 13+ miles and 30+ obstacles between me and my first ever “Trifecta”, (the completion of the three core races of the Spartan promotion at different distances). Being the reluctant runner that I am, I was thankful for the muddy and thigh-high aquatic excuses to pace myself to solid-ground jogs and precarious-footing power-walks. After a palm-tear early in the race, (most frustratingly because of a mental lapse, not a physical one, though I was able to complete the obstacle during which it occurred), I had something to occupy the sensorial survival input and distract me from the distance still left to be covered.

Now, it needs to be very clear that I am not competitive outside of myself in these events. I run in the Open heats, that is, I am very realistic that if I entered my own age group it would spark a Rube Goldberg-esq chain of mental, emotional, and competitive personal judgments that would penetrate the perimeter of my peaceful, passive, protected Pride. That’s an overstatement, maybe, in that it takes away from the enjoyment of the Open. The whole draw of the Spartan Race for me has been connection to family, to friends, and to fellow racers. To help, to be helped, to recognize those who may need help, and to recognize when that “those” may include me, the value of these experiences are irreplaceable. Don’t get me wrong, those that race Elite and Age Group are incredible athletes and competitors, and I enjoy watching those races as a fan. I just know the Present Moment Me.

Immediately beyond the Sprint (3+ miles), Super (8+), and Beast (12+), lies the Spartan Ultra, a race doubled the Beast. This race hit the starting line well before the Open heat I was in, donning their purple pinnies. There were moments along the course where our courses overlapped, which led to some truly…genuine…interactions. These athletes were pushing themselves to perceived limits, either confirming them or blasting right through. During one particularly muddy trudge, most likely carrying something, I heard a couple Ultra racers talking about challenging themselves.

It followed along the lines of, “I’ve done the other races and wanted to really push myself” and, “I’m competitive and understand this is about finishing, but I can’t stand the thought of failing”. I took liberties to add a whole lot of words and delete a whole lot of grunts and obscenities, but that was the gist of it.

As I walked slightly ahead of them, (not bragging, they’d probably done twice the distance I had to that point), I heard this and began thinking that maybe for her the true challenge was not the race itself, but Failure.

As athletes and competitors, we are programmed to “hate losing more than we like winning”, an oversimplification and complete disregard for the value of failure as an input to greater success. How many times do we see success, or winning, beget complacency and underachievement? How often do we see those, who accept and embrace a setback, overcome even greater odds to become victorious, either in the standings, in the contest, or simply in life? It would be negligent of us to discard the possibility of Failure being the endgame of some endeavors. Maybe the challenge is failing. Kudos to those who are brave enough, and secure enough, to put themselves in a position where this may be the case, considering we are often impressed to believe failure is…well…failure.

I’m not the motivational type, not externally at least. I’m not going to tell you “the Universe only gives you what you can handle” or the like. I’m not saying anything new or unique, I’m not changing the world with Thought. Sometimes the consideration is the first step toward recovery, or achievement, or the final step to the Past…or something more poetic. Just consider that maybe knowing how to fail is an integral part of knowing how to succeed.

Before my race, there had been a few moments of “what ifs” that resulted in me not completing the Beast. On average, who I am said I would not have handled that very well. The “competitively well” of me made solid efforts to justify and weasel some sense into thinking I would have been ok with it, but for the most part even the thought of failure ate away at me. This isn’t always a “practice what you preach” arena…I know I”m still growing. The competitor in me will always punch my insides when I see my finishing time, or ranking, but I’ve extensive experience with losing, so I continue to master it.

Like when I saw that Elite runner, Ryan Woods, finished the Spartan Ultra, (DOUBLE the length and obstacles), two minutes faster than I finished the Beast…

Fail Well, Friends…but not too often.

Competitive Wellness Series - Pride

Pride…hubris…self-esteem…easily something that is present in all of us, easily something to blame or credit. In ANY world of ANYTHING compared, valued, competed, judged, evaluated…in other words ANY situation that involves external feedback on performance, or simply action, Pride has an open invitation. One’s relationship with Pride becomes the determining factor of processing, response, and likely future action.

This post is inspired by the fallout of the UFC 229 McGregor-Nurmagomedov brawl. I am a Conor McGregor fan. (I am also a Chael Sonnen fan, if that paints an accurate picture of the MMA athletes that I support.) I enjoy the pre-fight banter, the gamesmanship, the taunting WHEN it is followed with clean competition and respect regardless of outcome. This is the heart of competition. Khabib made me a fan in that fight. I have followed him loosely prior, but the domination and mastery of his craft was on full display. As fighters, these men are very similar; as men, they could not be further from one another on the spectrum.

As much as I don’t condone the actions of “other participants” in what happened after McGregor tapped, (here forward not receiving any of our attention in this post), I can understand the actions of Nurmagomedov. As a man he is proud, he is loyal, he is intense. Not being cut from the same cloth of theatrics as McGregor was on full display. There was video of mid-fight trash talk where McGregor responded, while clearly losing on the scorecards, that “It’s just business”. Not a message that was going to be received during the culmination of frustration and, finally, opportunity for Nurmagomedov to speak in the language he is most fluent in. He was able to let his actions do the talking, and boy did they. But in the emotional high of physical victory, Khabib’s anger, frustration, and pride spilled out into unprofessional, yet completely human, action. Whereas the consuming toll on the human existence that preparing for that type of competition sometimes manifests in tears, what had been boiling up inside of Khabib for months showed itself in animalistic instinct.

Honestly, the fact that he was able to control himself until after the fight is nothing short of commendable. For someone who is not practiced or seasoned in the “talking game” of sports, and who undoubtedly had moments of sheer frustration throughout the process, he was able to focus everything, every thought, every emotion, into doing his job and defending his belt. But where does the anger come from? Where did his inability to control his actions for mere moments more come from? Herein lies our analysis of Pride.

I am a self-aware “sticks and stones” practitioner. Sure, words have hurt me in the past, they will presently, and I’m sure they will in the future, but the goal is to decrease that pain. A lot of this pain-management comes in the form of introspection - looking at myself to evaluate the Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How of the effect of the “offense”. (Yes, that offense should be in parenthesis and that will be addressed later). This intellectual analysis immediately takes attention away from the “sting”, protecting the heart with the brain.

Philosophically, there is no shortage of resources on the subject of Pride. Mythology from the beginning of oral history of mankind warns of and celebrates Pride and its different manifestations. There are camps in full support of Pride and there are camps that criticize its every action. There is individual Pride and group Pride. There is Pride stemming from self-love and Pride stemming from self-contempt. This is an individual experience, and a journey, that seems to never end. This is one of those situations that as soon as you think you’ve figured it out, the Universe says, “Here, try this one”.

This is another one of those posts where I am not going to give an answer because, clearly, I don’t have one. But in all endeavors here, I hope to more direct this conversation to raising children and young adults. When is the right time to begin the Pride discussion. Is there a right answer? Is this one of those subjects where the culturally acceptable norm is the leading candidate for what is “Right”?

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Simple, poetic, empowering. Now we live in a society where seemingly EVERY word hurts someone, offends someone, puts someone at a disadvantage or knocks them from equality. Instead of teaching children to build their confidence through an internal locust of control, we give them an opportunity to give someone else influence in their life.

Now, even as I type this, delete and retype, and repeat that process over and over, I am fully aware of the sensitivity of the topic. There are boundaries, there are expectations as a member of society, and there is “too much”. I am not saying that we should teach our children to become hardened into Stoicism and that it is alright for others to verbally and emotionally abuse them. As parents and teachers, it is our job to help them navigate their own lines of tolerance, comfort, and power. I am not victim-blaming. I am encouraging a mind that is open to rising above mean words. This rise comes as a result of positive self-image, confidence, and compassion/sympathy/empathy that is severely lacking in our world.

As we read this as adults, we are discouraged and turned off to the idea. Who wants to sit and be told what we are, why we do things, and what we are thinking? I personally am supremely sensitive to being told what I mean, or am meaning. I still have moments where someone else’s stupidity is offensive to me. I am a looooooong way from Self-actualization. But I also know that other people’s words are often more about them than me, just as my mean words to someone else are just as much about me.

What we should be teaching our children is tolerance, acceptance, and most of the -pathies. We should be reinforcing their defenses of “belief in self”. I’m not a “turn the other cheek” proponent, per say, but when jousting, or attacking, is verbal, I think there is a greater opportunity to invest in the development of one’s Self before immediate counteraction is required.

Idealistic: yes. Practical: maybe. Popular: probably not. However if I can teach a child to brush off “mean words” and/or realize that not everything that they don’t want to hear is necessarily “mean” or “offensive”, and something they need to be protected from, I will do it. There will be times that even the most controlled, registered human beings will reach their breaking points. Conor continued to verbally pepper a very proud Khabib until there was no turning back. Khabib acted how he personally felt necessary. (Even better, his father’s response to that, look that up too). Our children don’t have to deal with the professionalism of their responses right now, so they should be testing out their options, including one where they simply ignore our perception that they should be hurt or offended by them.

It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels - Saint Augustine

Suggested searches: Pride, Saint Augustine philosophy, hubris, Terry Cooper Pride, group pride, pride, shame, and group identification salice and sanchez