North Star Writers Group

I have not seen the movie Failure to Launch, but I must say – I absolutely love the name. You see, I have spent the last few weeks on a new writing assignment, doing interviews and creating weight-loss success stories for a well-known company.

My own weight-loss success story can only be described as – well, a failure. Which prompts the question – why can’t we write and publish some seriously good failure stories? Wouldn’t that make the rest of us feel good about not being the only person who couldn’t do something that we tried?

Forget being inspired – I’d rather fit in! I’d rather read a story about someone else who wasn’t able to reach a goal, given all the goals I’ve not reached in my own life. I don’t think I’m alone here.

I suppose the best way to start is by publishing my own stories of personal failure. After all, promoting failure sounds like fun. I can be the anti-Nike. Rather than “just do it,” I can invent slogans like, “giving up rocks!” and “dedication is overrated.” After all, those statements are sometimes true.

I’ll start with a story that takes place about seven years ago in the lovely city of Chicago, where I – for some unknown reason – decided to attempt to run a little marathon. It never occurred to me that since I have the shortest legs of any 33-year-old that I know, marathon running might not be in the cards for me. I trained for about seven months, and on the big day, I was excited. I talked a couple of friends into coming to watch, and I proudly donned an “Ohio” shirt looking for additional crowd support from any strangers out there who shared my Buckeye passion.

About 19 miles into the 26.2, I gave up. Yep, you read that right. This is not a story of breaking through the wall and coming out on the other side. It’s a story that’s more like, “Oh crap – what did I do this for anyways?” I couldn’t come up with an answer, my foot was bleeding through my shoe, I felt like I was going to pass out, and I stopped. I hobbled to the finish line, and those friends who were waiting for me at the end? I consider them true friends, because it took me about six hours to get there!

I can just see myself starring in Nike’s next ad. Rather than springing up and dashing to the finish line, they can show me in tears, freezing cold, hobbling, mostly one-footed, into a small crowd of 15-20 people who were still there because a) they were working the race, or b) they were one of my two friends. As I cross the line, I look up at the camera and say, “I’ve got four words for you. Just don’t do it.”

Now, certainly I could have bounced back, tried again next year, and convinced myself not to give up. Nah! Instead, I retired from distance running forever, and gosh darn it, I don’t regret it a bit. Not being the poster child for a running success story is all right with me.

I’ve also got some great stories about my past failure in relationships. I have at least four or five examples of times when I really, truly loved someone, but he found a close girlfriend of mine to be much better suited for him. Now, this happens to a lot of people when they’re in high school, but it kept happening to me until I was almost 30.

I could say that each time, I learned something valuable. Each time, I came away a better person. Ah, that’s a load of bunk! This isn’t a story from Cosmo Magazine meant to inspire all heartbroken folks to keep on trucking through until they find true love. Actually, each time I fell into a spiral of bad behavior, emotional distress and months of bitterness towards all mankind. So – there!

I think someone should make a television movie or write a book about it. This wouldn’t be any Sex in the City/Carrie Bradshaw assignment. The writer would have to look at the dark side – not the bright one – of miserable endings to relationships. I believe it would be quite Shakespearean.

Since William Shakespeare is dead and can’t write about the reality of failure, I guess I will have to just do it. I’m an expert after all, and if I fail… well, I guess I can always find another idea to launch!

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This is Column # CD12. Request permission to publish here.