Finding freedom in failure

What lessons can we learn from what feels like a failure?

Have you ever had a dream that hovers? The one that lingers at the back of your mind. Sometimes it scoots to the forefront of your thinking, resurrecting itself in a daydream as you’re driving down the road or out for a morning run. 

We had such a dream several years ago. Clint wanted to open a CrossFit gym. In 2010, we’d both fallen in love with CrossFit. We were smitten with not only the workouts, but the community and the way it could transform lives for the better. 

We created spreadsheets of equipment costs, we looked at commercial real estate, we filed an application to become an official CrossFit affiliate. We selected a name. But the numbers just wouldn’t work in our favor. Mostly it was the high cost of rent that made us pack up the spreadsheets and tuck that dream away. 

At the beginning of 2018, that dream was pushing its way to the forefront of my mind. Dormant for a few years, it awakened. I wondered why. Was God speaking? Had the timing been wrong years before but now was right? I put the idea in my prayer journal, asking God, “Was this real? Was it worth pursuing? Or was a fanciful daydream that needs to stay hidden?” 

In July 2018, a friend told us a local CrossFit gym was up for sale. The owner was moving out of state quickly and needed to sell. We set up a meeting. We looked at the facility. We asked questions. We crunched some numbers. Later that week we signed the paperwork. 

It was as God had orchestrated the entire situation. I felt so confident in our decision. 

That’s what made the next two years so hard. So confusing. So frustrating. It was as if God had called us to pursue this dream and then set us up for failure. I know God doesn’t work that way. But, I’ll admit, it sure felt like it at times. 

We poured money, sweat and energy into the new business — all while working our “day jobs.” We cleaned and painted. We spruced up the bathrooms. We bought new equipment. We worked on marketing plans. We invested in a nutrition program that I would run. I devoted hours to the training and planning of that program.

And yet no matter how hard we tried, we hit roadblock after roadblock. Two new members would join; three would leave. No one believed nutrition was all that important. Prices were too high. People complained about the music or the coaching. The monthly rent jumped 75%. The membership dwindled despite investing in a mentoring program, advertising and following the advice and recommendations of other successful gyms around the country.

Occasionally, there would be a little glimmer of sunshine: a member whose squat improved. A member who tackled their first pullup or rope climb. A member who reported weight loss and improved energy from eating better. 

Unfortunately, those moments were outweighed by the growing financial burden and overall stress of trying to figure out how to keep this business afloat with two more years on a lease.  

By the beginning of 2020, we felt defeated. We were exhausted, overworked and frustrated. By the end of February, we were thinking about an exit strategy. 

In mid-March, we closed our doors due to COVID-19. That forced break was a welcome respite from the daily grind. And we began to think about what would come next. 

Like everyone we expected the forced shutdown and stay-at-home orders to last a couple of weeks, maybe a month at the most. Of course, it extended much longer. (And like other business owners, we were paying rent on a facility we couldn’t even use.)

Clint and I sat on our back patio in the evenings, discussing our next steps. It just didn’t make financial sense for us to continue another two years until the lease was up. We called our property manager with a lease buyout deal. It was a long shot, but worth a try. The landlord accepted our offer. 

What followed in the next couple of weeks was a busy blur of selling off the equipment and shutting down the business. One silver lining is that workout equipment was in high demand as people outfitted their home gyms. We sold everything quickly. 

We were simultaneously sad and relieved. And I’ll admit I was a little angry too. I questioned God. I questioned myself. Had I heard him wrong? Maybe he hadn’t orchestrated this opportunity like I thought.

I had even scaled down my marketing business — letting my two contract employees go and passing off some clients — so I could devote more time to the gym. Was that a mistake? 

Where had I gone wrong? 

I hate being seen as a failure, so closing the business was a real blow to my self-esteem and my ego. 

I’ve tried not to beat myself up too much over what happened. Maybe God really did orchestrate this situation for some grand purpose. I remind myself that he has the aerial view. I only see what’s right in front of me. I only see the here and now. He sees the tomorrows. 

I also know God may use us to fulfill his plans for others. Did we impact someone God had his eye on? Was our stint as gym owners a minor role in a bigger play? 

I don’t know. I may not know the answer for another decade. I may not know the answer until I enter those pearly gates and can ask God himself.  

So, I choose not to see this endeavor as a “failure.” I choose to look at what I learned about myself, about others and about running a business. What lessons can I take from this experience? 

The biggest lesson may be that dreams are worth pursuing. Don’t let one hard dream cloud your overall perspective. Don’t squash future dreams out of fear. Follow God’s prompting. Pay attention when a dream shoves its way to the forefront of your mind. And know that it is possible to find freedom in failure.