Discovering the Art of Losing; Or, Letting Go of Winning As the Ultimate Goal

I've always had a competitive spirit. I like to blame it on the Virgo perfectionist in me. As a kid, whether it was earning the top grades in school or being the fastest on my soccer team, I always strove to be ahead of the next person. Although I've learned to tone this compulsion down a bit, I still like to win. Even while I was outlining this post in my head while running the Lake yesterday, I worked on passing up other runners - be it they tended to be elderly or overweight.

My family has noted this obsession of mine. At the annual Easter egg hunt this year, my nephew asked me how I could always be the champion at things (I love that kid; he's so observant). Sure, I had regained my Egg Hunting Master title, but how could he forgot beating me at Guitar Hero and any other video game out there? But what really drives home the point the best was when a bunch of us were playing a game called True Colors in which people show how well they know each other by choosing other players that best fit the answer to questions like, "Who is the last one to leave a party?" or "If you could choose another player to be your only companion in the Amazon, who would it be?" I was in last place when the question, something like "Who is the most likely to be a sore loser?" came up and I was unanimously chosen. Funnily enough, I had assumed that few, if any, would choose me.

So, there you have it. I like to be first and people know it's important to me. And because winning has been so highly valued, I've come up against some challenges recently.

My big focus right now is to become a high level competitor in tae kwon do. This year I've begun to compete in tournaments for the first time and have found that I must do away with my drive to place first. The problem with the sport of tae kwon do is that the judging is horribly inconstant. I may fight a strong match against a lesser opponent and still lose due to unskilled or biased judging. Yes, sometimes that can play out to my advantage, but this inconsistency has forced me to reexamine my motivations for competing. It must no longer be just about winning, but must shift focus to doing my best and learning the game of tournament fighting. If I know I fought smart and hard, I feel good. If I end a tournament taking away knowledge about how to be more relaxed and focused under pressure, then I'm winning the game even if I lost the match.

For me, it is no longer about the short term, immediate win, but the overall improvement. That's the true reward. So now I am embracing the art of losing to discover the ultimate win.