We all make mistakes. Mistakes, in my view, are acts of ignorance—things we do without fully understanding the consequences. But mistakes are also where the seeds of growth are planted. As I reflect on my journey, I’ve come to see mistakes not as failures but as opportunities to struggle toward success. From that perspective, one mistake stands out as my favorite: becoming an avid runner.
This “mistake” didn’t happen by design. It began in 2020, following the tragic killing of Ahmaud Arbery. I was moved to honor him by participating in the 2020 Peachtree Road Race, the world’s largest 10K, held in Atlanta. The race was virtual that year, but the significance was deeply personal. I laced up my shoes, committed to running 6.2 miles, and finished with a sense of accomplishment. What I didn’t know was that this simple act of solidarity would transform me.
I didn’t plan to become a runner. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t prepared for the physical toll or the discipline required. Yet, that first race propelled me into a new chapter of my life. I mistakenly stumbled into a passion that has reshaped me—not just physically but mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually.
Since that first run, I’ve completed several 5Ks, 10Ks, and a 10-miler. On November 28, 2024, Friends and Family Day (also known as Thanksgiving Day), I ran my first half marathon. Crossing that finish line was a profound moment for me—a culmination of years of effort, discipline, and transformation. Running has improved my diet, changed my body, and built my confidence. I’m more disciplined, more focused, and more attuned to what it means to perform at my best—not just as a runner, but as a speaker, a writer, a husband, and a father.
I call this journey my “Steps to Significance,” a framework I’ve developed to understand how mistakes can lead to something greater. It starts with stupidity—knowing the right thing to do but choosing not to do it. The next step is struggle—making mistakes out of ignorance while striving toward success. Then comes success—achieving a goal. Finally, there’s significance—using your success to serve others.
The bridge between stupidity and struggle is humility. Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of others more. When I decided to run in honor of Ahmaud Arbery, it wasn’t about me. It was about creating a moment of solidarity and reflection. That act of humility bridged the gap between my ignorance of running and my willingness to struggle toward something meaningful.
Mistakes are powerful because they force us to grow. My mistake of becoming a runner taught me the value of persistence, the importance of discipline, and the incredible gains that come from consistent effort. Running has shown me that performance isn’t just about physical ability; it’s about mindset, focus, and determination.
Today, as I look back at that “mistake” with gratitude, I celebrate the countless blessings it has brought me—greater health, deeper confidence, and a renewed sense of purpose. And as I continue to run, I’m reminded that sometimes, the best things in life come from the struggles we didn’t see coming.
Reflections:
What’s your favorite mistake? How has it shaped you? As I’ve learned, mistakes are not the end—they’re the beginning of something extraordinary. Share your thoughts below—I’d love to hear your story.