The Doorstep Mile

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming.

Show Notes

What is failure?

  • Shakespeare wrote 37 plays. Why didn't he write 40?
  • Serena Williams has won 23 Grand Slam titles. But what about the times she lost? Were they failures? Or were they lessons? What if she tried harder or played better during some of those defeats than in her victories: should that not merit applause?
  • Penny Lane, Last Christmas, Wonderwall and Fairytale of New York are well-known songs. But they each failed to reach Number 1. What standard should we measure failure or success by?
Commit! Live your best life! All this motivational stuff is easier said than done, of course. It is undoubtedly hard to do. But it is made worse by the looming shame of failure that our society has hoisted overhead. This blocks out half the sun and scares us like rabbits in the headlights. The shame often has more significant aftershocks than the failed venture itself. What the hell is failure anyway?
Failure is a powerful beast standing in the way of living more adventurously. I prefer to believe that merely by beginning, by having a go and trying our best, we have succeeded in something meaningful. The only thing that truly counts as failure is not daring to try.

Imagine if society applauded endeavour. Consider if we saved the mocking for those who never began, rather than those stout souls who stand out from the crowd, roll up their sleeves and say, 'I'll give it a shot.'
Regardless of what happens after that, we have attempted something to be proud of. Living adventurously dares us to lean into the prospect of failure. There is little excitement or challenge in sticking with things we are good at or doing only stuff we know we can accomplish. Excitement, learning and a sense of satisfaction are earned by overcoming the prospect of failure. You have to dare yourself to roll the dice.
Every person who reads this is – on a global scale – moderately well-educated and affluent. I hesitate to speak for you, so I'll use myself as an example. If I gambled on an idea that failed and all my work and vanished right this moment, I would still be OK. I could find a job, earn money, buy food and stay alive. I would not die. If I fail, I will not die.
What then do I fear about committing to a new project? Losing money? Losing self-respect? The sneers of peers?
Money I can get more of.
My self-respect should remain intact if I tried my best.
Therefore it must be the thought of 'told you so' that scares me the most.
In which case, I need to re-read Roosevelt's 'Man in the Arena' speech, stick two fingers up at the doubters and then just crack on with what I am doing.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

OVER TO YOU:
How do you define 'failure'?
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What is The Doorstep Mile?

Would you like a more adventurous life?
Are you being held back by a lack of time or money? By fear, indecision, or a feeling of being selfish or an imposter?
Living adventurously is not about cycling around the world or rowing across an ocean.
Living adventurously is about the attitude you choose each day. It instils an enthusiasm to resurrect the boldness and curiosity that many of us lose as adults.
Whether at work or home, taking the first step to begin a new venture is daunting. If you dream of a big adventure, begin with a microadventure.
This is the Doorstep Mile, the hardest part of every journey.
The Doorstep Mile will reveal why you want to change direction, what’s stopping you, and how to build an adventurous spirit into your busy daily life.
Dream big, but start small.

Don’t yearn for the adventure of a lifetime. Begin a lifetime of living adventurously.
What would your future self advise you to do?
What would you do if you could not fail?
Is your to-do list urgent or important?
You will never simultaneously have enough time, money and mojo.
There are opportunities for adventure in your daily 5-to-9.
The hardest challenge is getting out the front door and beginning: the Doorstep Mile.

Alastair Humphreys, a National Geographic Adventurer of the Year, cycled around the world for four years but also schedules a monthly tree climb. He has crossed the Empty Quarter desert, rowed the Atlantic, walked a lap of the M25 and busked through Spain, despite being unable to play the violin.

‘The gospel of short, perspective-shifting bursts of travel closer to home.’ New York Times
‘A life-long adventurer.’ Financial Times
‘Upend your boring routine… it doesn't take much.’ Outside Magazine

Visit www.alastairhumphreys.com to listen to Alastair's podcast, sign up to his newsletter or read his other books.
@al_humphreys