A friend of mine had an understandably hard time in the 80 percent-plus humidity during the recent San Antonio Rock n’ Roll Marathon, including severe cramping, nearly passing out, an uncomfortable interlude in the race medical tent, and finally willing himself to leave the tent on his own power and cross the finish line in a little over six hours. “I need to race again soon and redeem myself,” he told me, but I really don’t know what about himself there is to redeem, other than the delusion of some sort of failure. He overcame some severe personal challenges, received a very nice finisher’s shirt and medal, and, perhaps even more important, is still alive and able to run again. If that’s failure, give me the gift of failure every day.
