The 2 year old I nanny is potty training. We’ve been having a few accidents. Like not sitting on the potty long enough for all of the poop to land in the toilet and peeing through her clothes, my clothes, the down comforter, the sheets, and the mattress pad. Each time I say the same thing “it’s ok, we all have accidents”.
“Ever try. Ever fail. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” – Samuel Beckett
I tried to be a big time runner – to keep up with the pros in races and in wealth. But I didn’t. I never got a contract and continued running thanks to the money my parents put aside for college (that I thankfully didn’t have to use for school because I busted my balls for a scholarship in HS). Last winter after a long injury lay off and subsequent months of poo poo performances, I got a call from my dad saying he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Christmas, alone, over 1800 miles from home didn’t seem as festive anymore. And my college teammate was marrying the love of her life back at our old stomping grounds at the end of the month. My funds and emotional state were dwindling. Visiting my father, going home for Christmas, and hitting the dance floor at my friends wedding weren’t all an option. I hit my breaking point – the chance for faster times and an Olympic birth no longer outweighed the inability to have a life outside running. I gave up on my dream because I failed.
But luckily failing doesn’t mean being eternally stuck in diapers. We all have accidents, no matter, we can all get up.