O Defeat, where is thy sting?

Those who claim there is nothing agonizing about failure are either hopelessly deluded or, worst yet, have never tried to surpass themselves and thus not courted the bitter pangs of defeat. Crushed under the weight of misfortune, sometimes we are forced to come to grips with an inescapable reality for which no excuses can be drawn or rationalizations be offered. No, I’m not referring to personal tragedies or painful circumstances in life, although those, too, would most certainly qualify. You see, for some of us, running is more than just a convenient pastime or a means by which to procure desired ends. As the 19th century German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, once put it: Running can be a “ way of being at the world” for it makes us who we are and gives meaning to an otherwise absurd existence.

If we were to go back in time some 2500 years ago to the ancient plains of the Greek peninsula, we would no doubt find ourselves in the midst of the tumultuous Persian Wars. In one of the finest moments ever captured in recorded history, 300 Spartan soldiers held off 70,000 Persian infantrymen at the narrow pass at Thermopylae in order to salvage a Greek victory. They fought to the very last man, knowing from the outset that their fates were sealed, and when the Persians threatened to darken the skies with their piercing arrows, Leonidas, king of Sparta, spoke defiantly: “Then we will fight in the shade.”

While the Spartans may have been the most militaristic society the world has ever seen, it is clear that 21st century man is not likely to find himself wielding an axe across the blood-soaked terrain of massive human graves. But that’s just the point. This barbaric heroism of a bygone era has metamorphosed into modern man’s warring with the self and all that is rotten in the world. As runners, we of all people should be most familiar with battles that are fought on invisible fronts. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against an inherent weakness of purpose, a tendency towards accepting defeat rather than merely tolerating it. Though not a runner himself, Theodore Roosevelt came very close to defining the essence of the true road warrior: “ The credit belongs to the man who is in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at worst if he fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

When we speak of defeat in terms of dreams that were dashed, hopes that came to naught, and goals that we failed to meet, we ought to remember the Spartans who, though certain of defeat, rose to glory in a falling state instead of giving in to the inevitable. You have two choices really. You can either throw in the towel or, as I would say, use it to wipe the sweat off your face. Do you have what it takes?