Now I'm free, free failing

"If you're afraid to fail, then you're probably going to fail."- Kobe Bryant

It is only recently that I have understood the depth and breadth of my own perfectionism and how that has shown up in my life. It is not a healthy habit, it is a neurotic personality trait that was born of trying to navigate a chaotic and unsupportive young life and ingrained further through multiple major traumas in my teens and 20s. I have been the type of person who cannot tolerate being even one second late to an appointment (I’ve been so neurotic about this in the past I make others feel bad about any tardiness, which is not my intention). I have been the type of person who said I am only allowed to pursue something if I am expert in it, which has led to me amassing multiple graduate degrees, certifications and the like. I have been the type of person whose email response time is mere seconds. The exceptional standards I’ve held myself to (but not others) was so unrealistic that I have always felt like a failure about everything, all the time. Except as a perfectionist, failure is not tolerable. Perfectionists will pretty much do anything to avoid it. They cannot coexist. Except failing is inevitable. And while it feels quite scary to someone who has used perfectionism as a coping mechanism, a tool for survival and a means to try and control a wildly uncontrollable universe, embracing imperfection is wildly liberating. It is actually the path to getting out of our own way and having a chance to achieve our goals.

“First, we hold ourselves to strict, near-impossible standards but are understanding and compassionate to everyone else. As if that double standard weren’t bad enough, we also try to see the best in others, but assume others will see the worst in us. When you think about it, our assumption that others will be judgmental and rejecting is actually quite ungenerous of us.”

— Ellen Hendriksen, author “How to be Enough”.

My perfectionism was born out of a need for love, approval, attention, and support. I was taught (mistakenly) as a child that I needed to earn my worth and perfectionism was the way to do that. I was high achieving in academics and sports. Whatever things I did, I did all in. I “hustled for my worthiness” as Brene Brown said. Underneath it all was simply a fear that if I did not operate in this way that I would not be loved or accepted. I was afraid of other people’s opinions and judgements. I navigated the world with a deep fear that I was fundamentally unloveable and that if I didn’t constantly achieve, strive to be the best, do the most, that my entire universe could fall apart at any second. I have been so ungenerous with others, with myself.

I have worked on this part of my personality vigorously but it is an insidious habit. It takes a lot of faith to let go of, yet it is hard to do because one of the tricks of perfectionism is that it insists that you should not trust yourself. But I have pulled and pulled on the thread. Sat on the floor with a huge ball, so tangled from years and years of being intwined. I have patiently, persistently and imperfectly hammered away at change.

Before Houston Marathon, I read “How to Be Enough” and it was timely because I could feel myself slipping into overvaluing performance and undervaluing the self. Every page felt like I was being called out, every page shown a light on where I still had work to do. But for once, it actually felt liberating. I could finally feel wildly imperfect and yet inherently worthy. As Hendriksen says, “If you didn’t need to do better, didn’t have anything to prove, absolutely didn’t have to work harder- in short, if you knew you were enough just as you are- what would you be doing with your life”. And I felt free. I felt myself soften and change. I felt faith take root, I felt self trust blossom.

On Valentine’s Day, I got to challenge myself and see how well the lessons were saturating. I got to run right up to failure and give it a big sloppy kiss on the mouth. I lined up for Jackpot 100 mile and the USATF 100 mile road championships. When I originally made my schedule, Jackpot had been my goal for February, as I wanted to go to Chianti to go after a Golden Ticket. I changed that plan when I began to worry about my sponsorship. I switched to Black Canyon 100k because I figured it was the financially prudent thing to do. But as I have previously explained, that environment ultimately ended up feeling not supportive to me. I decided to quietly show up at Jackpot and focus on my own experience. I wanted to explore my curiosity about how fast I could run and see if this type of pursuit (aka running as fast as I can in the 100) was something I wanted to pursue. Unfortunately, due to the massive amount of stress and pain I experienced recently, I had a bad flare up of Lupus symptoms about a week before the race. I decided to go anyways and give myself a shot. I knew I was not trying to run any sort of record, just to run as fast as I could and explore things for future consideration. I did find it humorous to find out that people in the comments on the livestream made up a rumor that I was going for the record. The record was never on my mind with this race, this race was intended to see if a record pursuit was something I am even interested in.

I took my shot on race day, tried my best on race day, but ultimately failed to finish. And I felt no embarrassment, no sadness, no heartbreak for stopping. I felt compassion for myself that my body didn’t come to the party and that the conditions were terrible when you are having a rough health day. The wind was just unrelenting and none of my systems seemed be working and so after problem solving for 5 hrs, including slowing down to wear test different shoes and even trying to pace Dakota back to life, I called it a day. I am proud of my failure. I am proud that I took a shot and went after a goal and did not achieve it. It was nice to see that the shift away from perfectionism was not surface. I want it to be deep and lasting. I will continue to take big swings and chase big dreams. If anything, failing at Jackpot just makes me more excited to try and get things dialed for Chianti. I like this era I am stepping into. It feels pretty darn good.

I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.

Michael Jordan