Since when was running 43 miles a failure?

The Long Run Mindset - For a Life Worth Living #4

I’ve had failed businesses and failed marriages. For a long time, I wore those like a heavy coat. I felt like a specialist in “not making it to the finish line.”

But I’ve realized that our definition of failure is completely broken. As Thomas Edison famously said:

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”

The “Dignity” of the DNF

I once dropped out of a race (a DNF—Did Not Finish) at the 43-mile mark. For a moment, I felt the familiar sting of failure. But then I stopped and thought: Since when did running 43 miles become a failure? Most people won’t drive 43 miles on a Saturday, let alone run them on their own two feet. To get to that 43-mile marker, I had to train, sacrifice, and show up. I used to tell my sales team the same thing: I was glad when they lost a big deal. Why? Because losing a deal meant they had done all the hard work to get into the position to be rejected in the first place. You can’t get a “No” from a big client if you’re sitting on the sofa.

Failure isn’t the opposite of success; it’s a sign that you were “in the arena.”

The “Why” Must Be Visual

To get past the 43-mile mark—or to save a struggling company—your “Why” has to be big enough to see. You have to visualize the finish line before you even lace up.

When the pain gets unbearable and the “quit” starts whispering in your ear, I use a mantra often associated with David Goggins:

“If you quit now, you’re going to have to go through all this pain all over again just to get back to where you are right now.” You started this journey because you wanted to be exactly where you are standing. Why would you want to do the first 40 miles twice?

The Result of Starting Over

When Catherine and I went “all in” on our business after my health crisis, we didn’t look at the 100-mile mark. We looked at the next ten minutes. We treated past failures not as a death sentence, but as “10,000 ways that didn’t work.”

Today, retired and reflecting from a much better place, I realize that the “Failed” label was just a training ground. You don’t learn much from an easy mile on a flat road. You learn everything when you’re staring at a red balance sheet or a DNF at mile 43.

The Lesson: Don’t be afraid of the “No” or the DNF. Be afraid of never being in the position to get one.