Allow Failure to Ignite Success

As a runner, since I had my daughter, MacKenzie, I dreamt of running a race with her. Of course, I had no idea when she was a tiny kiddo learning to sit up, crawl, walk, and eventually run if she would learn to love running the way I did. My instincts also nudged me that pushing hard on any of my passions with her might have the opposite impact, so while I continued to enjoy my daily runs and talk about running marathons should she ask, I attempted to keep my hopes about her falling in love with running to myself. That made it even more exciting when she first ran cross country and seemed enthusiastic to continue, eventually leaping into run track once she was could do so this year in the seventh grade.

She asked lots of questions in the weeks leading up to the first track practice. The most common was, “What distance do you think I’ll run?” Since I had never been particularly fast and seemed to find my stride with distance running and endurance, I laughed and said, “Well, I’m not sure. Your coach will watch you run and decide, but I’m sure it won’t be sprinting.” I could not have been more wrong. She came home from her first day of practice and would run the 75-meter hurdles, the 200-meter dash, and the 4 X 200-meter relay. MacKenzie was a hurdler and sprinter.

The season progressed, and she won several races. She practiced with her team and asked me to take her to the track on the weekends. She listened to feedback on her form and the fundamentals of racing. She cared about her team and cheered them on. She felt nervous before she raced and started to develop habits for preparation at the starting line, like stretching and jumping. The season was less than two months long, and quite rapidly, it was time for the year’s final meet. This meet brought all five district schools together to compete. Over 100 girls raced that day.

Depending upon the performance that season, the girls were split into exhibition (non-point earning) and open (point-earning) heats for each racing category. For all three of her races, MacKenzie ran in an open heat. The preliminary open heats went very well, and MacKenzie and her teammates in the relay progressed to the finals. This was the first such meet she’d run. The finals left her feeling disappointed as she did not fare as favorably. We walked to the car, and she muttered and expressed frustration for how poorly she’d done.

I listened and said, “Kiddo, I’m proud of you. You had a remarkable first year of track. Most importantly, you were an incredible team member, and I loved hearing you cheer on your team. You found out what races bring you joy and help you contribute to your team. You had very solid races and experienced winning meets and races. You found a love for running and track as a sport. You became a hurdler, and I have never even crossed a hurdle.” She gave me the tired look of a disappointed teenager as I continued, “And you have learned some important things. Winning amongst the best runners will take more practice. Managing a longer, multi-race meet will take fuel, hydration, and stronger endurance.” She grumbled, “I know.”

The next day, MacKenzie asked me, “Can you take me to the track this weekend?” The season was over, and she knew that to apply what she had learned meant continuing to practice. She asked me to help her create a training plan. With the help of Chat GPT, we formulated a summer routine that included lifting, stretching, running, and days of rest. Even during our midwestern “heat dome,” she continued to practice. While many things in our lives lie outside our control, the hard work we put into becoming better at endeavors we love is something we own, and the work that happens when nobody is looking can never be taken away.

Experiencing failure feels devastating. I remember a day when I was asked to step in for a leader who was called away for an emergency. The meeting I was asked to facilitate was full of executives I admired. This was not a meeting where I could present and prepare. The point of the session was to encourage dialogue and conversation; at the time, I had much less practice at facilitation. I left the meeting feeling humiliated. I stumbled on my words and felt stuck in my head about what I’d “say next” and was not listening as I could have been. I played the lapse in my performance over and repeatedly for the next several weeks.

As a recovering perfectionist, I know that life’s failures can sometimes feel debilitating. They can be transformational and fueling. Upon reflection, I have six lessons I’ve learned to allow failure to ignite success:

1. 1.Find your cushion and wallow. MacKenzie felt those three losses vividly. She needed to feel that agony and express how badly she felt. Having a space to share that with people who loved her and cared about her was essential. She also needed to do that in a way that was pure MacKenzie. She’s very social and verbal, so she needed to discuss and share it. Knowing the people in your life who can support you in the crushing moment of failure and being there for the feelings of shame matters. Failure can feel like a loss and has to be processed.
2. 2.Build your tribe & listen – to the trustworthy voices. As it relates to the feedback you must hear to grow as a leader, all voices are created equally. As your success flourishes, you may find an interesting dichotomy: louder and more pronounced kind messages, while simultaneously, a group of louder and more pronounced communications containing devastating messages. Neither of those groups may be particularly trustworthy. Both create noise, and together, they can sound like a cacophony. Silence the dissonance by listening to the right people for your season and situation. In the case of MacKenzie, her school coaches and the coaches at her summer track camp are highly reliable and principal voices. Despite my eagerness and care, they have much more legitimate advice about track and her next steps in conditioning than I do.
3. 3.Find your next level of performance by “letting go to grow.” Sometimes, the voices of support and feedback will have extremely tough messages to share. There may be a time when MacKenzie grows as a runner and must give up one of the races she loves. She may need to focus on one distance and give up another to improve. It might be the one she has to give up is the one she loved the most. Filene Research Institute's Mark Meyer described this to me as “letting go to grow.” As I took steps forward to lead, he often shared that it was time for me to stop doing things that I loved and that helped me to progress. Walking away from what you’ve been great at to leave space for the next season can feel like an inconceivable loss. It also leaves space for others to thrive and for you to develop in new and imperative ways.
4. 4.Change the paradigm for failure. Spanx Founder Sara Blakely shares the story of her father asking her and her brother, “What have you failed at this week?” She talks about how this conversation shifted her perspective about what failure meant and encouraged her to try more things and stretch what she tried. As the pace of change demands organizations develop an innovation competency, we talk more about failure. However, it takes a drumbeat like Blakely’s father created to help people believe. It feels more comfortable to hide any “failures” in a closet and not talk about them than to bring them forward and normalize the practice of learning from what we do rather than letting shame deflate us and scare us from taking the next step.
5. 5.Embrace the Chaos. Stepping through learning can feel like chaos. The inputs about root causes, the opinions about what could have been and what might be, the pressure to respond and create stronger outcomes, and the fear of an unknown future magnified by the certainty that failure looms can be overwhelming. Feeling the chaos matters. The discomfort builds motivation and learning. From there, embrace logic to move from emotion and reaction to learning. According to Harvard Business Review’s “Strategies for Learning from Failure” by Amy C. Edmondson, “not all failures are created equal.” Edmondson shares that “although an infinite number of things can go wrong in organizations, mistakes fall into three broad categories: preventable, complexity-related, and intelligent.” The “spectrum of reasons for failure” can help guide an organization to understand the balance of accountability and permissibility better. It also gives language to defining the boundaries and expectations for failure.
6. 6.Be Childlike. Malcolm X said, “Children have a lesson adults should learn, to not be ashamed of failing, but to get up and try again. Most of us adults are so afraid, so cautious, so ‘safe,’ and therefore so shrinking and rigid and afraid that it is why so many humans fail. Most middle-aged adults have resigned themselves to failure.” Each time we stand up and try again, we invite someone else to be childlike, embrace learning, and potentially fail again. Creating an appetite for an even more robust organizational culture that builds innovation and creativity is not about failing less. It’s about standing up more and saying so when we do.

MacKenzie took that last bit of advice seriously. She asked me to take her to the track repeatedly. She watches other runners and learns. She’s lifting weights. She’s researching fueling during workouts. She asked to go to track camp and will head there next week. As she shapes her life, seasons of that life will spring forward. She will build more of those winning seasons each time she makes her failures a potent part of who she is and embraces those moments of agony as the fire that lights her bright future.