On a recent family holiday to Rarotonga, someone had the crazy idea that we should enter the round Rarotonga road race. 31km run or walk. We could train and do it together they said! So we did. For me it marked a year post knee surgery and seemed like a good goal to aim for during my rehab, and a celebration of my recovery and what my knees can now do that they struggled to before. So we trained and we stood at the start line at 5.30am with everyone else in the pitch darkness – and then off we went. Not quite as quickly as everyone else, in fact within the first kilometre we couldn’t actually see anyone else, even the other walkers! We brought up the rear for the entire race. Even having our own police escort so we could be, I quote, under observation. At one point, as I sat at a bus stop plastering my blisters and eating my protein bar, the passing police escort said to me “are you still in the race or have you finished?”
I came last. Well joint last with a family member. Why do I share this story and its success, or lack of? What did it teach me?
You see we’d all won by the time we got to the start line. Regardless of the result, we were not there for a PB, we were there because we trained and wanted to be fitter. We were there because a year before, none of us could have been. It’s helped me reflect on the success in failure. What others see as failure or not worth celebrating, can actually be a massive achievement for others. We never know the size of the mountains others are climbing and so often we’re busy looking at the summits of others, not the kilometres we’ve already climbed.
It's easy in our pursuit of more and better and chasing down our goals to forget about the successes that occur along the way, the wins we have before the finish line, the progress markers that show our successes compounding as we walk.
For someone who has always been quite fit and a sporting competitor, it’s been an adjustment for me as I age and contend with lasting injuries to adapt to my new normal and make peace with what I’m capable of these days health-wise. To readjust my expectations and be comfortable in doing my best and knowing it’s good enough but will never be what it was or what others may be capable of doing.
So I’m not a loser because I was last, I’m a winner because I finished and given where I’m at, this is a massive achievement. Even if I did get beaten by our friend and her 74 year old blind mother!
So the next time you’re worrying about coming last (or whatever your life equivalent of this currently is), turn back and see how far you’ve come. Reflect on the wins along the way and the successes that exist inside the thing you’re currently thinking is a failure or not good enough. Know that we change and our expectations need to change to – what’s your best on any given day is always enough.
Crossing the finish line (last) was a success in itself, we were there just to finish, not to win, not to get a personal best. The time really didn’t matter, even if it was 6 hours and 20 minutes – just 40 minutes shy of them closing the race and marking us as ‘did not finish’!
