The Power of Failure: Lessons from the Track

I’ll never forget the moment my body hit the track. The world blurred, the sting of the fall ran through my hands, and the roar of the crowd faded into an eerie silence. One second, I was sprinting toward the finish line, baton in hand, legs pumping with everything I had. The next, I was tumbling forward, the dust rising around me as my race—and what felt like my pride—came crashing down.

This image, captured by Scott Varley of the Daily Breeze newspaper, tells the story better than I ever could. West Torrance’s Mario Alvarado is blazing past me, headed into third place. Meanwhile, I’m face-first in the dirt, a moment frozen in time—a testament to failure in its rawest form.

The next day, I walked into school, and the chatter had already started. High school students can be relentless, and I heard the whispers, the jokes, the teasing. And then, I saw the paper. A lot of papers. There I was, slumped on the track, for everyone to see. It was overwhelming at first, but over time, I realized something—I had put myself in the race, I had tried, and that alone set me apart.

Failure is a Teacher

That 8x200 relay was supposed to be a defining moment—a showcase of months of hard work. Instead, it became something else entirely: a lesson in resilience. Failure strips away the illusion of invincibility and forces us to confront our limits. It teaches us where we need to grow. That day, I learned that mental toughness is just as important as physical endurance. I learned that no matter how much you train, things won’t always go your way. And most importantly, I learned that falling isn’t the same as failing—staying down is.

Falling is Not the End

At that moment, I had a choice. I could stay down in embarrassment and let the weight of failure consume me. Or, I could get up, dust myself off, and finish the race. I chose the latter. And while I didn’t cross the finish line the way I had imagined, I did cross it. The crowd didn’t cheer for my stumble, but they did for my perseverance. And in that, I found a new kind of victory.

Success is Built on Setbacks

Every setback I’ve faced since that day—whether in sports, business, or life—has carried the same lesson: failure isn’t final. It’s part of the process. Some of the most successful people in history have endured spectacular failures before reaching their peak. It’s not about avoiding failure; it’s about learning how to rise each time you fall.

Most people never even try. They fear failure so much that they never step onto the track, never put themselves in the race. But I did. I fell, but I tried, and that’s more than most can say. And I’ve learned to be okay with that.

So, if you’ve ever fallen—whether literally or figuratively—know this: that moment doesn’t define you. What defines you is what you do next. Stand up. Keep moving. Finish your race. And if you fall again, embrace it, because every failure is just another step toward success.

That track meet didn’t break me. It built me. And for that, I am grateful.