The Evolution of Failure

So it's 7 AM, and I just learned the word "chronobiology." Since I already learned something new today, can I just skip to tomorrow?

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"Fail" is a funny word. It's one letter away from being something shiny and fun to play with (foil, in case you were wondering) and about 53 letters away from being my all-time favorite meal (steak, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob with a cold can of Pepsi - but you already knew that). 

Oddly enough, this word has been transformed into something almost positive in the last few years. It started as a simple way for a teacher to crush a student's hopes and dreams and has evolved into something of a buzzword that usually describes events that are so ridiculous that they actually aren't failures because they're so stinking funny.

Exhibit A: Failure that's actually failure.

Exhibit B: Funny failure, and therefore, a win, which isn't failure at all.

I fail on a daily basis. This is no surprise, because recent testing has shown that I am indeed 110% human. This leads me to believe that I could have probably created FailBlog, but instead of doing that and becoming filthy rich, I probably decided to take a nap or something. Priorities, people. Needless to say, I failed and created Life Before the Bucket instead. I'll get over it.

A couple of days ago, I failed twice in approximately five minutes. 

I'll let you decide if they were winning fails or failing fails.

On Monday, my wife decided she wanted to go to the YMCA. This is typical, because she's jacked and much healthier than I am. For reasons unknown, I decided to go with her. I'm not sure why, because I consider walking to and from the car in a parking lot a workout. But I went anyway.

When we arrived, I was invigorated. I recently got a new medicine, and I wanted to see how I fared after using it, so I was up for a challenge. After signing in and trekking upstairs to the treadmills and bikes, Kalyn ditched me (which should happen often in any happy, healthy marriage like ours). 

Before she left me, though, we touched base on what we'd be doing, just in case one of us (namely, me) keeled over while working out. She told me what she was doing (which I've either forgotten or never knew - you pick) and I proceeded to announce that I was going to run.

Fail, Adrian. Fail.

Someday I'll bore you with a post about my diseases. But until that inevitable day, suffice it to say that I couldn't breathe if you shoved 10 tubes of oxygen down my throat (of course, I'm not sure anyone could, but that's beside the point). Therefore, running is just above "taking a bath with a toaster oven" on my list of "things I should do to better my quality of life."

I approached my treadmill of choice with confidence. I boarded the machine of doom, knowing I could conquer it if I just set my mind to it and prayed real hard. What I didn't know is that God chose this moment in time to have a little chuckle at my expense. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know he loves me - I just think he loves me enough to laugh at me.

I started my journey on the treadmill at a very slow walk, because the internet says you're supposed to warm-up before you workout, and the internet is definitely right more than it's wrong. So after walking for a few minutes, I prayed even harder, and then reluctantly proceeded to press the magical little button that would give me a workout, increasing my speed from a 2.5 to a 6.0.

All the while, I was thinking, "You know, I used to be able to run at a 6.0 pretty well..."

"Used to" is the key phrase here.

I had good intentions. I really did. I have a goal for 2011 to run a 10 minute mile. So that would mean running at a 6.0 for 10 minutes. Go big or go home, right?

Wrong-O.

This is where I introduce you to failure number 1. Feel free to laugh, mock, and jeer me, because I would do the same. Just imagine: a kid that can't run, a treadmill, and an MP3 player with headphones. Now imagine, for a second, what could happen to that kid. After you've imagined for a moment, replace that kid with... well, me.

Yeah, it happened. I was the really cool kid that knocked his MP3 player off of the treadmill while I was running, causing my head to be forcibly turned a direction it isn't meant to go. My MP3 player proceeded to take off like a 747, and with it, my pride.

Thankfully, I didn't get hurt, and the people around me probably got a good laugh. I stopped the treadmill, recovered my rogue MP3 player, and resumed my workout, thinking that I had just hit a bump in the road that I needed to overcome.

Wrong-O again.

I hopped back on my deathtrap and proceeded to catch my breath. After walking for a minute, I was ready to try again, prepared to catch any unexpected projectiles that might try to hinder my progress. I pressed that fateful button, and I was off. Running... Running... Running....

Note: "Running" is a very flexible word at this point.

Actually, it went more like this:

I pressed the button to get to 6.0, and just as the treadmill reached its top speed, I was done. 

I pressed the STOP button as quickly as I could.

Fail, Adrian. Fail.

Yeah, I know. Pretty lame. And not very inspirational. Pretty much just an old-fashioned failure. Makes you wonder why I'm writing about it here if I didn't actually get anything accomplished and couldn't inspire anyone with my actions.

Really, though, failure happens. That's reality. I know that movies would have us think otherwise, but we're really going to bite the big one before we achieve our dreams sometimes. As you're reaching for the stars, you're going to miss every once in a while. 

But don't let that stop you from trying. After all, if you're not dreaming big, you're not dreaming at all. And when you dream big, sometimes your goals are going to be difficult. I know that's really annoying, but not everything in life has a shortcut or a step-by-step fail-proof process. Sometimes, failure is part of the process. 

After all, if I hadn't embarrassed myself on the treadmill, I wouldn't have proceeded to have one of the best workouts I've had in a long time on a bike. And I wouldn't know my limits. I wouldn't know that I'm not quite ready to run a 10 minute mile. I wouldn't know the feeling of getting back up and trying again (though I really hope my MP3 player never gets airborne again - it can only take so much beating before it gives up on me).

So there you have it. I failed. 

In fact, I failed hard.

Or did I?

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Have you had a funny "fail" recently? What about a more painful failure? How were you able to get back up and try again? Let me hear about it (or anything else that's on your mind!) in a comment, an e-mail (awaller1990@gmail.com), or on the Life Before the Bucket Facebook page!