I finally got back to running this week and, as one does, I decided to go along with Coach Bennett. Yes, I said that name like I know the guy. Hilarious. He’s the head coach at Nike Running and, over the past few months, I’ve heard from him more than from most of the people I love in my life. He has some of the most motivating running guides on the app and, for someone who hates “aspire to perspire” talks, I’ve come to like his sessions so much that I already know what the next word is going to be in some cases.
Yesterday’s session was called Finish Lines. Every few minutes, he would start a sentence, a line, or a statement and ask you to finish it. As usual, all of them were good and witty, but this one was the most thought‑provoking, and it came quite early in the run: “Recently, I found out I was totally wrong about…”. I thought about it so much and had no answers.
Not because I’ve not been wrong recently. I really can’t help it. I’m wrong a lot. I have a girlfriend and an ex‑wife, so you can imagine there’s no way I’m not wrong at least once a day. My job also requires me to be. It’s the only way I’m able to learn. Being wrong keeps me from relying too much on pattern matching and heuristics. Being a parent also means I’m wrong all the time. You learn new ways to handle issues and correct mistakes. You realise, a lot, that you project your adult feelings onto kids who are just being kids. So yes, plenty wrong.
So how come I couldn’t come up with an answer when Coach Bennett asked? It turns out many of us experience being wrong as a threat to our ego, especially if we grew up being shamed or punished for mistakes. To protect our self‑image, we often minimise, deny, or quickly move past our wrongness instead of fully facing it. Of course, there’s a lot of nuance to keep in mind. Not all of us are the same. But if you grew up in cultures where a high premium is placed on being right, then you probably have a bit of this tucked away somewhere.
It is important, though, to remember when we have been wrong and to face our mistakes, so we can deal with them better when they come up again. Imagine having to write the same test every time simply because you will not admit you made a mistake and reread the material to correct yourself. It makes no sense.
Many years ago, I was wrong about something that is so relevant to my work now that I am grateful I never forgot that lesson.
Back in secondary school, around 2003, my friend Tim was the information officer – basically an information prefect whose job was to get news and important information to students. When we finally got internet connectivity and a cybercafe where different classes got 45‑minute slots each weekend, Tim took on teaching people how to use the internet. This was the first time most of us had seen Yahoo or created email addresses.
One day, Tim decided to write a comprehensive guide to using the internet – how to search on Yahoo, set up Hotmail or Yahoo Mail, and basic internet concepts. He planned to make it a long article – it ended up being two A4 pages – and wanted to post it on noticeboards and read it at evening assembly. I told him people wouldn’t want to read something that long, that they’d figure it out themselves during their weekend sessions, that it was unnecessary since he’d walked me through everything in just a few minutes. Imagine that: I was the one he had to walk through the thing, and I still told him people wouldn’t need it.
Tim ignored my advice and wrote it anyway. The reception was incredible. People crowded around the noticeboards to read it, took notes, and tried to memorise parts of it. It was exactly the kind of key information people needed and wanted. I remember thinking, “I was so wrong about this,” and realising how easy it is to dismiss ideas just because they don’t make sense to you personally.
This story stays with me, especially in my current role. I interact with founders every day, knowing I can only fund maybe 1 per cent of the people I speak with. That doesn’t mean 99 per cent of the ideas are wrong. It is more about me: maybe I don’t understand the market, don’t have the money available, or simply have limited capacity for new investments.
The main thing is not to beat yourself up for being wrong, and not to hold on to rejection too tightly just because someone was wrong about you. Figure it out, but don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Tip of the day: Just do that thing. Don't wait till all the conditions are perfect. The structure will come after you thrown a bunch of random stuff out.
Yesterday’s session was called Finish Lines. Every few minutes, he would start a sentence, a line, or a statement and ask you to finish it. As usual, all of them were good and witty, but this one was the most thought‑provoking, and it came quite early in the run: “Recently, I found out I was totally wrong about…”. I thought about it so much and had no answers.
Not because I’ve not been wrong recently. I really can’t help it. I’m wrong a lot. I have a girlfriend and an ex‑wife, so you can imagine there’s no way I’m not wrong at least once a day. My job also requires me to be. It’s the only way I’m able to learn. Being wrong keeps me from relying too much on pattern matching and heuristics. Being a parent also means I’m wrong all the time. You learn new ways to handle issues and correct mistakes. You realise, a lot, that you project your adult feelings onto kids who are just being kids. So yes, plenty wrong.
So how come I couldn’t come up with an answer when Coach Bennett asked? It turns out many of us experience being wrong as a threat to our ego, especially if we grew up being shamed or punished for mistakes. To protect our self‑image, we often minimise, deny, or quickly move past our wrongness instead of fully facing it. Of course, there’s a lot of nuance to keep in mind. Not all of us are the same. But if you grew up in cultures where a high premium is placed on being right, then you probably have a bit of this tucked away somewhere.
It is important, though, to remember when we have been wrong and to face our mistakes, so we can deal with them better when they come up again. Imagine having to write the same test every time simply because you will not admit you made a mistake and reread the material to correct yourself. It makes no sense.
Many years ago, I was wrong about something that is so relevant to my work now that I am grateful I never forgot that lesson.
Back in secondary school, around 2003, my friend Tim was the information officer – basically an information prefect whose job was to get news and important information to students. When we finally got internet connectivity and a cybercafe where different classes got 45‑minute slots each weekend, Tim took on teaching people how to use the internet. This was the first time most of us had seen Yahoo or created email addresses.
One day, Tim decided to write a comprehensive guide to using the internet – how to search on Yahoo, set up Hotmail or Yahoo Mail, and basic internet concepts. He planned to make it a long article – it ended up being two A4 pages – and wanted to post it on noticeboards and read it at evening assembly. I told him people wouldn’t want to read something that long, that they’d figure it out themselves during their weekend sessions, that it was unnecessary since he’d walked me through everything in just a few minutes. Imagine that: I was the one he had to walk through the thing, and I still told him people wouldn’t need it.
Tim ignored my advice and wrote it anyway. The reception was incredible. People crowded around the noticeboards to read it, took notes, and tried to memorise parts of it. It was exactly the kind of key information people needed and wanted. I remember thinking, “I was so wrong about this,” and realising how easy it is to dismiss ideas just because they don’t make sense to you personally.
This story stays with me, especially in my current role. I interact with founders every day, knowing I can only fund maybe 1 per cent of the people I speak with. That doesn’t mean 99 per cent of the ideas are wrong. It is more about me: maybe I don’t understand the market, don’t have the money available, or simply have limited capacity for new investments.
The main thing is not to beat yourself up for being wrong, and not to hold on to rejection too tightly just because someone was wrong about you. Figure it out, but don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Tip of the day: Just do that thing. Don't wait till all the conditions are perfect. The structure will come after you thrown a bunch of random stuff out.