In my previous article on the Spectacle of Racing, I wrote about the beauty, precision, and sheer intensity of motorsports—how everything builds toward a single defining moment. What I didn’t explore then is what happens when that moment doesn’t go your way.
And I mean, really doesn’t go your way!
Because in racing, just as in leadership, many moments don’t.
Few examples capture this better than David Malukas’ heartbreaking finish at the 110th Indianapolis 500.
Malukus didn’t just lose. This was his second year with a second-place finish. And this loss? It was a loss by 0.0233 seconds, the closest finish in Indy 500 history. In Indy history!
With eight laps to go, a caution erased what had been a hard-earned gap. Suddenly, everything came down to a one-lap shootout. It was executed nearly flawlessly:
- A decisive pass on Lap 199 to take the lead
- Full composure on the restart under extreme pressure
- A drive at what was described as “150%”
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
Coming down the final straightaway, the aerodynamic draft did what it always does. In racing terms, everything was done right. And, it still ended in a loss.
That’s the kind of loss that cuts deeper than failure born from mistakes. It’s the kind that tests who you are as a person and as a leader.
John Maxwell talks about “failing forward”—the idea that failure isn’t the opposite of success, but a necessary step toward it. But here’s the reality we don’t talk about enough: Failure doesn’t feel like growth in the moment. It feels like loss.
You could see it in Malukas after the race. Physically exhausted, emotionally spent, crying under his helmet. He wasn’t analyzing growth opportunities. He was grieving something that felt like it belonged to him and his team.
And if you’ve led long enough, you know that feeling:
- The deal you worked for months to close… gone
- The employee you believed in… doesn’t work out
- The strategy you executed well… still misses
You can do everything right and still lose. That’s the part of leadership most people aren’t prepared for.
At ReEmployAbility, we’ve lived this.
We had a long-standing client—over 10 years. We grew together. We navigated organizational changes on both sides. There was trust, mutual respect, and a shared commitment to doing the right thing. We championed for each other, and we always had each other’s back.
And then something shifted.
Their team began asking for more customization, more control, and less of our involvement in a program we had built and designed. Over time, we learned that elements of our approach were being shared externally. Ultimately helping create a broader process that could be used across multiple service providers, including our competitors.
The relationship changed. It became strained, more transactional, and harder to manage. Trust eroded—even within the boundaries of a contract.
We were faced with a hard decision.
When the RFP came, we chose not to respond. Not because we couldn’t compete. Because we no longer trusted how our information, our thinking, or our investment would be used.
It was a loss.
And just like in racing, there’s a hard truth in how it happened.
We had created something strong. Something worth following. But in doing that, we also created an advantage for others. The very thing that made us successful became something others could leverage.
When you lose as a leader, you don’t just lose for yourself. You lose for your team, your company, your partners, your clients. That’s what gives it weight. That’s what makes it personal.
Losses ripple. Leaders carry that.
There’s also an important truth in how this kind of loss happens. When you’re leading, you create exposure.
In racing, you become vulnerable. You punch a hole in the air, and everyone behind you benefits from it. The very act of being in front creates exposure. Leadership is no different.
- When you’re out front, expectations rise
- When you’re winning, people study you and some may even want to take you down
- When you lead, pressure intensifies
Success doesn’t remove risk. It amplifies it.
That’s why failing forward isn’t automatic. It sounds good in theory. Learn from it, grow from it, and use it as fuel. But in practice, there’s a choice you make after every loss.
You can fail backward: “We should have…” “I blew it…”“That was our chance…”
And if you stay there too long, it erodes confidence, clarity, and ultimately your effectiveness as a leader.
Or you can fail forward.
That’s the turning point. Not pretending it didn’t hurt. Not rushing to a lesson. But choosing to do something with it.
Failing forward requires discipline:
- Owning reality without tearing yourself down
- Pulling the lesson without rewriting the truth
- Converting emotion into forward movement
That’s the work. Because there are a few things leaders have to get right after a loss:
You have to acknowledge it. If it hurts, it mattered. Don’t minimize it or brush past it.
You have to separate effort from outcome. Sometimes the performance is exactly what it needed to be, even if the result isn’t there. If you don’t make that distinction, you’ll start reinforcing the wrong behaviors.
You have to understand the system you’re operating in. External forces such as timing, competition, and context matter. Not every loss is a personal failure.
And you have to decide what to do with the emotion. Because emotion will show up whether you want it to or not. The question is whether it becomes weight that slows you down or fuel that pushes you forward.
Then you recommit.
That’s the part that defines leadership. Not the win. The response to the loss.
Because leadership isn’t built on highlight moments. It’s built in the narrow gaps, the near misses, the “almost’s”, the moments that didn’t go your way.
The deals that almost closed (or you chose to let go of) The goals that were within reach. The opportunities that slipped in the final stretch.
Those are the moments that shape how you lead next.
The leaders who grow aren’t the ones who avoid loss. They’re the ones who refuse to let it define them.
Because in the end, leadership, just like racing, isn’t about one moment. It’s about what you do after it.
You’re always one lap away from your next opportunity.
