Last night's run was a failure.
I was due for a 5-mile tempo run with the middle three miles at 9:43. I ate dinner at 6:30 and went to run at 8:15. By the end of the first mile, I was covered in sweat from the humidity and suffering those rolling chills you get when your body wants to expel what you ate and is deciding which avenue would be best to get rid of it.
I immediately slowed down, determined to get five miles in even if they weren't at tempo pace.
By the halfway point, I was in agony. I texted Matt, who was at the gym, to take a specific route home so he'd pass me. He picked me up at just a little under 4.25 miles.
Sulking in the car, blasting the AC to bring down my core temperature, I mumbled, "I'm a failure."
To which he replied, "No, you're not. You got out there and tried. You can't be a failure if you try."
I have a couple opposing views on failure myself. On the one hand, failure's not a good thing; but on the other, we learn from it, and we can't grow or change without it. I tell my students this all the time, and I would be a hypocrite if I didn't apply it to myself.
So yes, my run was a failure, but I can concur with Matt that I, myself, am not.
I've reflected on the run and taken three important lessons from it.
1. This is the second speed-workout that I did at night and got sick during. I need to do hard-effort runs in the morning.
2. I can't get cocky and expect that hard runs will be easy during the summer. I have to anticipate and plan for speed-work to be tough.
3. I hated to cut the run short and I feel stupid for doing it, but it was for the best based on how dizzy and sick I felt. It doesn't count as quitting if you plan to get back out there.
I won't let this one failed run ruin my week, and I plan to be much smarter and more dedicated to getting all three of my runs done in the morning next week. I can't bounce between evening and morning - I have to be consistent. I usually love tempo runs and I'm not going to let this one jade my feelings toward speed-work.
|Spot the apostrophe error and win...pride in being able to tell when an apostrophe is being misused!|
I've decided to learn and grow from this run and call it a mental workout. I've decided not to let it beat me.
How do you define failure?
Do you avoid risks (and failure) at all costs?
Tell me about a time you failed and learned from it.