In my college admission essays, I wrote about my shortcomings as a high school athlete
and student in pursuit of one day becoming a doctor. In my medical school personal statement, I
again wrote about many failures I experienced as a collegiate athlete, still in pursuit of medical
education. Today, as a newly dubbed “Student Doctor” after officially passing the USMLE Step 1
board exam, I again feel compelled to rehash the most devastating, embarrassing, humbling, I-
might-just-quit-this-dang-thing moments of my life. Why, after an objectively exciting
achievement, would I choose to remember these darker days? Simply put– because I now
realize the only reason I passed is that first, I failed.
I set goals and didn’t reach them.
I chased dreams which at times felt nightmarish.
I made sacrifices and often wondered if it would ever be worth it.
From age 10, I pursued my dream of becoming a US Olympic swimmer, which required
almost every waking moment of my time outside of school. I remember standing in my baggy
one-piece suit, cap and goggles on, as the national anthem played loudly over the natatorium
speakers. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and heard the crowd roar as my mind carried me
to Beijing 2008, a gold medal around my neck. I completed two-a-day practices in middle and
high school, traveled to train at the Olympic Training Center over summers, and missed almost
every social event of my teenage years. “Sorry… I have morning practice” was the mantra of my
youth. After eight years of swimming, I committed to an NCAA Division I program and swam all
four years of college, training year-round for the equivalent hours of a full-time job as a pre-med
Swimming shortcomings. School failures. Gap year positions I didn’t get. I enjoyed a
successful collegiate swimming career but inevitably fell short of my dream. After 12 years, I
graduated and retired from swimming, never having become an Olympic athlete. When my
swimming career ended, however, I didn’t feel like a loser. When I was accepted into medical
school I remember thinking “My hardest days are behind me… nothing will ever be as
challenging mentally and physically as being a pre-med D1 athlete.” In preparing for an Olympic
career that never materialized, I became mentally and physically tough. I became an expert time
manager. I became a master of the details, a realizer that integrity was my most important
asset. I prioritized the team’s needs above my own, and all of these things brought me more
success in medical school than I could have ever imagined.
As I now celebrate the end of my didactic years and soon prepare residency
applications, I remember my greatest failures and cherish them. I hope I continue to fail so that I
may continually increase my expectations of myself and pride in myself for getting up and going
