How I failed (and won) my latest cycling event

Why Failure and Vulnerability Are the Unsung Heroes of Mental Health

This weekend, I signed up for something big. Like, really big. A 135km cycling course with nearly 1,600m of elevation gain under the blazing summer sun. It was one of those challenges you mentally sign up for thinking, "Sure, it'll be tough... but how bad can it be?"

Well. It was 105°F. One hundred and five. Record-breaking heat. The kind that makes asphalt melt and your lungs question your life choices. And after hours of pushing, climbing, sweating, and gritting through what felt like endless hills, my partner and I hit our limit at km 62—not even halfway. We weren’t alone—about 50 other cyclists pulled out too. Bodies can only take so much, and ours were loud and clear: enough.

And here’s the thing: I don’t regret a single minute of it.

Redefining "Success"

We live in a culture obsessed with results. Finish lines. Metrics. Badges. But sometimes, the real triumph is found in showing up and giving it your all—even when you don’t make it to the end. I could beat myself up for "failing" the ride. But what does that even mean? I trained, I tried, I pushed hard, and I listened to my body when it told me it was time to stop. That’s not failure. That’s wisdom.

The Power of Vulnerability

Telling this story publicly? It's a little scary. I didn’t finish. I didn’t "win." But that vulnerability is powerful. It gives others permission to say, "Me too." In a world of highlight reels and curated perfection, we need more realness. More truth.

Talking about our limits and our disappointments is not weakness. It’s strength. It builds connection. It says, "I'm human, just like you."

Why Failure Is Important for Mental Health

Mental health thrives not in perfection, but in self-compassion. Failure teaches us how to bounce, not break. It humbles us, grounds us, and gives us perspective. It reminds us that we're not defined by a single outcome.

If I had pushed through and gotten heatstroke, what lesson would that teach me? Instead, I learned the value of listening inward. Of setting ego aside. Of honoring effort over outcome.

It's the Journey That Matters

Cycling through that heat, surrounded by other determined, exhausted riders, I felt something profound: resilience. I passed people who later passed me. I saw women who looked like they were in rough shape, yet they made it to km 62 alongside me. Along the way, everyone was encouraging—a nod, a word of support, a shared grimace that said, "We're in this together."

That’s the stuff that stays with you.

Keep Showing Up

Whether it's a long ride, a hard week, or a mental health struggle, keep showing up. Try the hard thing. Rest when you need to. Talk about it. Be proud of the effort, not just the outcome.

Failure isn’t the opposite of success. It's part of it. And vulnerability? That’s the bridge between struggle and connection.

So yeah, I didn’t finish the ride. But in every way that matters, I finished strong.

And I'll ride again.