Failure is a Teacher! Finish Your Race, & Lift As You Climb

Summary
Jackie Morreale shares her journey of celebrating success, facing failure, and the lessons learned about preparation, resilience, and community. This episode emphasizes that failure is a stepping stone to growth and the importance of lifting others as we climb.
 
Topics:

• The significance of celebrating milestones
• Lessons learned from failing a certification exam
• The importance of preparation over experience
• How failure can teach us more than success
• The role of community and support in overcoming challenges
• The analogy of running a race to life's journey
• The concept of 'Lift as You Climb' and giving back

 
Takeaways:

• Preparation is indispensable, regardless of experience.
• Failure reveals what we need to improve, not just what we did wrong.
• Success is built on invisible hours of effort and practice.
• Helping others along the way enriches our own journey.

Quotes:

• "Thank you for building this community with me."
• "Failure teaches us more than success."
• "Lift as you climb."

 
Chapters:
00:00 The Day After My Biggest Success, I Failed
00:20 Thank You, Wisdom for Wannabes Community
01:09 YouTube Silver Creator Award Celebration
01:54 I Failed a $200 Fitness Certification Exam
02:20 Shout Out: School of Rock
02:32 Shout Out: Lucie Pierro & Breathe Music Vocal Collective
03:12 Preparation Isn't Punishment—It's Protection
04:32 Wisdom from Pilot Johannes Schwab: Confidence Through Discipline
05:09 Respect the Process
05:31 Imagination Exercise: Picture Your Finish Line
07:30 My Son's Lesson at the Finish Line
​08:16 Wisdom from Educator Dr. Roy McGriff: "Lift as You Climb"
09:02 Final Thoughts & Thank You

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Jackie Morreale with Wisdom for Wannabes' YouTube Silver Creator Award and Letter from YouTube

Morreale family before the July 4th 5K race, representing the Ken Pribil Jr. Foundation... the only ones not wearing red, white, and blue :)

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Failure is a Teacher! Finish Your Race, & Lift As You Climb

By Jackie Morreale
 
The day after I celebrated one of the biggest accomplishments of my career, I failed. But not in the way you would think.
 
My name is Jackie Morreale, and I'm the host of Wisdom for Wannabes. First, I failed to say thank you. Thank you to every person who has watched an interview, listened to an episode, subscribed to the channel, left a thoughtful comment.
 
Last Sunday, my family and closest friends gathered to celebrate the arrival and opening of the YouTube Silver Creator Award for Wisdom for this channel. Woohoo!
 
This award represents one year of my life fully devoted to interviewing remarkable people. Taking a leap of faith that the wisdom shared through those interviews would somehow reach the people who need it most.
 
Every conversation teaches me something new, and those thousands of quiet hours have become this very public milestone.
 
The award may have the Wisdom for Wannabes name on it, but it belongs to every guest who trusted me with their story, and every person who believed those stories were worth watching. Before I tell you about my second failure, thank you, thank you. Thank you for building this community with me. Thank you for being here.
 
Then, on Monday, I failed a test.
 
I sat for a group fitness certification exam, and I failed, with flying colors. The exam cost about $200, but the real cost was my pride.
 
The truth is I convinced myself that I didn't need to study. Twenty years ago, I was a certified personal trainer, group fitness instructor, spinning instructor, Zumba instructor, Pilates instructor, yoga instructor, you name it. I assumed that all that experience would carry me through this exam.
 
It didn't.
 
I learned that experience might be valuable, but preparation is indispensable. For a few days, I was disappointed in myself. My daughter even reminded me that I wasn't acting myself after I got the results.
 
She was right.
 
Failure has a way of shaking our confidence before it strengthens our character. A week later, though, I realized something inspiring:
 
I learned far more by failing than I ever would have by passing.
 
If I had passed without studying, I would have walked away believing that preparation wasn't necessary.
 
Instead, failure reminded me that every worthwhile goal deserves our full attention.
 
It humbled me.

​(continued below)

Fireworks after the race on July 4, 2026 in West Palm Beach, Florida (Photo: Jackie Morreale)

American Flag suspended from fire trucks on July 4, 2026 in West Palm Beach, Florida (Photo: Jackie Morreale)

Ironically, another experience from this year taught me the exact opposite lesson. I auditioned for something that genuinely scared me: a singing group. Unlike the fitness exam, I prepared. I signed up for lessons at a local school called School of Rock. Shout out to all my teachers at the School of Rock. You rock!
 
I joined a group Breathe Music Vocal Collective. Shout out to Lucie Pierro and all the folks in the Breathe Music Vocal Collective.
 
I practiced scales, lip trills, breathing exercises, harmonies, and vocal technique. I surrounded myself with singers who were more experienced and better than I was and am.
 
I became a beginner again, open to anyone and everyone's skills. I gained wisdom and practiced skills that I hadn't used in years.
 
And the audition went well. (Yay!) The difference wasn't talent; the difference was preparation.
 
A few days later, on the 4th of July, my family and I decided to celebrate by running a 5K before watching the fireworks. My nine-year-old son has always been the strongest runner in the family, but this race was different. He hadn't been training consistently, the weather was brutally hot, and in hindsight, eating a hot dog before a 5K race probably isn't the best decision.
 
Around mile two, he started hurting. He wanted the race to be over. I slowed down, and I held his hand.
 
Reminded him that he'd already done the hardest part; that we were closer to the finish line than we were to the start.
 
I told him to picture the finish line, to imagine all the spectators cheering for him, and to remember how lucky he was that his body could carry him forward. How lucky we all are, in fact.
 
Little by little, his stride came back. He found another gear. He crossed the finish line one second ahead of me, very happily.
 
Watching him struggle, though, reminded me that preparation isn't punishment; it's protection.
 

• If we don't prepare for the race, the race hurts.
• If we don't prepare for the exam, the exam hurts.
• If we don't prepare for the audition, the fear becomes louder than the audience.
• If we don't prepare for life, life's challenge has a unique way of revealing where we still need to grow.

 
Preparation doesn't eliminate challenges; it gives us the strength to meet them.
 
One of my podcast guests and very good friends, Johannes Schwab, a pilot from Austria, shared something I will never forget in his interview. He studied so thoroughly for his aviation exams that by the time the test day arrived, he wasn't worried about failing.
 
He had prepared beyond what was required.
The 5 Ps – prior preparation prevents poor performance.
That's confidence that can only be earned through discipline.
 
There's an old saying that what people see in public is simply a reflection of what happened in private.

• The award on the wall.
• The musical performance.
• The race medal.
• The beautiful painting.
• The thriving business.

No one sees the countless quiet hours behind them. The studying, the failed drafts, the early mornings, the lonely miles, the practice sessions when nobody's watching.
 
Those invisible moments are where success is actually built.
 
Failure reminded me: Respect the process.
 
The next time I walk in to take that exam, I won't assume that my past accomplishments are enough. I will walk in overly prepared. Not because I'm afraid to fail, but because I've learned what preparation really means.
 
It isn't just passing a test; it's about becoming the kind of person who earns the result

(continued below)

Imagination Exercise: Finish Your Race, Lift as You Climb

A simple imagination exercise.
It might help you get to the finish line.
 
Let's close our eyes for a minute. Picture your own finish line.
 
Maybe it's the exam that you've been studying for.
Maybe it's an audition.
A presentation.
A race.
A business that you've dreamed of starting.
A book that you're writing.
Artwork you're creating.
Or simply becoming a healthier, happier version of yourself.
 
Now imagine you're in that last mile of a race. Your legs are heavy. Your breathing is louder than the crowd. Your mind whispers, 'You've done enough.'
 
Then another voice answers, 'You've already come this far.'
 
You're no longer standing where you started.
 
Every practice session, every early morning, every page you studied, every mistake, every failure, every time you got back up... they have all brought you here, to this moment.
 
You look ahead, and the finish line is finally in sight. You can hear the announcer calling names. You hear cheering.
 
Now imagine that every person lining the course knows exactly what you've overcome to get here.
They know the setbacks no one else saw.
They know the mornings that you didn't feel like getting out of bed but did anyway.
They know about the failures that taught you.
They know the dream that you almost gave up on.
 
They're cheering anyway.
 
Not because you're the fastest, but because you didn't quit.
 
Your stride gets a little lighter. Your shoulders relax. One more moment of courage, then you cross the finish line.
 
Someone reaches out a hand. Maybe it's a volunteer; maybe it's the exact encouragement you needed at exactly the right time.
 
Take a deep breath.
Feel the gratitude.
Feel the relief.
Feel the quiet confidence that comes from doing something hard.
 
Then notice something else. There are still people out on the course. Some are smiling, some are wondering if they're going to make it. Without thinking, you turn around, you go back toward clap, you cheer, you hold out your hand.
 
You tell them exactly what someone else once told you:
‘You've got this.
Keep going.
I'm here if you need me.
I believe in you.’
 
At that race finish line, that's exactly what I saw my son do.
 
After finishing the race, exhausted, the announcer said, 'Somebody shake that young man's hand.' A woman stepped forward from the crowd; she smiled, congratulated him, and shook his hand.
 
A few minutes later, after he'd caught his breath, he walked back to the finish line. Not to race again, not to celebrate himself. To congratulate other runners as they crossed. He offered high fives, he shook hands, he cheered for people he'd never met.
 
I don't think he realized it, but in that moment, he stopped being someone who needed encouragement and became someone who gave it.
 
Watching him reminded me that maybe the finish line wasn't the destination after all. Maybe it's the place where our next responsibility begins.
 
One of my earliest podcast guests on Wisdom for Wannabes, Dr. Roy McGriff, an educator and sixth-degree black belt, shared a phrase that has stayed with me ever since that conversation:
‘Lift as you climb.’
That's what preparation is for.
That's what failure prepares us to do.
 
Not simply to collect another simply to pass another test, but to become the kind of person who reaches back, extends a hand, and reminds someone else that they can do hard things too.
 
So, prepare, study, practice, and fail. Try again and cross your own finish line.
Then turn around, someone else is still out there.
You didn't need someone to carry you this time, but maybe someone else needs you.
 
'Lift as you climb.'
 
Have a wonderful day and thank you for showing up for Wisdom for Wannabes.

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Shout-Outs in this blog article:

Breathe Music Studio by Lucie Pierro

School of Rock South Palm Beach

Wisdom for Wannabes interview with Pilot Johannes Schwab

Wisdom for Wannabes interview with Educator Dr. Roy McGriff