I'm world class at failure. But a specific kind... getting really...
Steve Magness@stevemagness
50 views
Sep 08, 2025
1
I'm world class at failure. But a specific kind... getting really freaking close, then falling just short.
A few examples:
-Ran a 4:01 mile, instead of getting under 4.
-Missed HS national XC championships by 1 spot.
-Missed NCAA championships by 0.06 seconds.
-Missed qualifying for USA champs by 0.87 seconds.
-As an NCAA coach, our track team finished 3rd, 2nd, and 3rd at NCAA champs.
-As an author, I've sold over a million books, and just missed NYT best seller list multiple times
Here's what I learned about failure and bouncing back:
A few examples:
-Ran a 4:01 mile, instead of getting under 4.
-Missed HS national XC championships by 1 spot.
-Missed NCAA championships by 0.06 seconds.
-Missed qualifying for USA champs by 0.87 seconds.
-As an NCAA coach, our track team finished 3rd, 2nd, and 3rd at NCAA champs.
-As an author, I've sold over a million books, and just missed NYT best seller list multiple times
Here's what I learned about failure and bouncing back:
2
These failures sting in a very particular way.
Falling short by inches feels worse than missing by a mile. It tricks your brain into spirals of “what if.”
What if I found an extra gear, pushed a little harder, promoted my book just a bit more?
You replay the moment endlessly, searching for the one thing you could have changed.
Falling short by inches feels worse than missing by a mile. It tricks your brain into spirals of “what if.”
What if I found an extra gear, pushed a little harder, promoted my book just a bit more?
You replay the moment endlessly, searching for the one thing you could have changed.
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But here’s what I’ve learned: close calls are proof you belong.
You don’t get to miss by inches unless you’ve put yourself in the arena, close enough to taste success.
And that's what it's about: putting yourself in the arena!
The sting of “almost” is the cost of chasing meaningful goals.
It means you’re playing at the edge of your ability.
You don’t get to miss by inches unless you’ve put yourself in the arena, close enough to taste success.
And that's what it's about: putting yourself in the arena!
The sting of “almost” is the cost of chasing meaningful goals.
It means you’re playing at the edge of your ability.
4
Failure, especially near-miss failure, forces you to confront your story.
Do you see it as confirmation you aren’t good enough?
Do you define yourself by the result?
Or do you see it as a process, a journey to becoming, regardless of what happens.
Failure, and how you internalize it, shapes how you live...whether you keep taking swings or shy away and protect.
Do you see it as confirmation you aren’t good enough?
Do you define yourself by the result?
Or do you see it as a process, a journey to becoming, regardless of what happens.
Failure, and how you internalize it, shapes how you live...whether you keep taking swings or shy away and protect.
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Research shows that resilience is about how you explain failure to yourself.
Explanations shape persistence.
“I’m terrible, I’ll never succeed” leads to quitting.
“This is hard, That's the point. I'm exploring my limits.” leads to growth.
Stories don’t just describe reality, they shape it.
Explanations shape persistence.
“I’m terrible, I’ll never succeed” leads to quitting.
“This is hard, That's the point. I'm exploring my limits.” leads to growth.
Stories don’t just describe reality, they shape it.
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The truth is, progress rarely looks like a straight line up. It looks like heartbreak, near misses, and “almosts.”
Each close call feels like proof you’re not enough, until you realize they’re actually reps in resilience.
Each failure is building the capacity to step up again, a little wiser, a little steadier.
Each close call feels like proof you’re not enough, until you realize they’re actually reps in resilience.
Each failure is building the capacity to step up again, a little wiser, a little steadier.
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We tend to glorify the breakthrough, the sub-4 mile, the national title, the bestseller.
But what gets you there isn’t the win. It’s all the times you came up short and still chose to try again.
The near misses don’t disqualify you. They shape you into someone capable of eventually breaking through.
But what gets you there isn’t the win. It’s all the times you came up short and still chose to try again.
The near misses don’t disqualify you. They shape you into someone capable of eventually breaking through.
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Over time, I’ve come to see these near misses as tools to help reframe and sharpen my focus.
They force humility, patience, and perspective.
They remind me that outcomes are fickle, but the process—the consistent practice of taking a shot—is where real strength is built.
They force humility, patience, and perspective.
They remind me that outcomes are fickle, but the process—the consistent practice of taking a shot—is where real strength is built.
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So yes, I’ve failed. Again and again, by the narrowest of margins.
But those failures are what made me. They taught me to keep showing up, to keep taking swings, to keep pushing to see how good I can be.
Close means you’re in the game.
And even if the breakthroughs never came, those moments shaped you into the person who is in the arena, seeing what they can do.
And that's the entire point.
But those failures are what made me. They taught me to keep showing up, to keep taking swings, to keep pushing to see how good I can be.
Close means you’re in the game.
And even if the breakthroughs never came, those moments shaped you into the person who is in the arena, seeing what they can do.
And that's the entire point.