The idea that a failure turned into something cool.
I haaaaate failure. It’s the worst, right? So crummy. Goodness.
In the words of Jay-Z, “to try and to fail, the two things I hate.”
Last year, in October, my life was insane – kind of imploding beautifully in this gorgeous wonderful way. I was moving to New York on a whim and flying home every weekend. And I got up to do the Long Beach Marathon – because I promised myself I’d do a marathon every year for the rest of my life…
…And then I missed the turn for the full marathoners because I am an idiot! Just a good ol’ idiot who got distracted and just is an idiot, apparently.
So, I had to do a marathon still that year.
And because I was transitioning to living in New York, I did it on the east coast. And I had the time of my freaking life in Philadelphia. It was the greatest week. And that’s when I started with the, “Well, now I might as well do them in a different state” each year thing (because the four just happened to fall that way).
So, getting to run the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Antonio Marathon was just another benefit of making a wrong turn a while ago.
Failures are lame. Wrong turns aren’t awesome. But sometimes – sometimes – they lead you to a new, unexpected place you wouldn’t have seen otherwise. And that rocks!