When I was 18, I placed second in the state finals of the 50 freestyle — and wish I’d just gotten last. At that stage of my life, everything was about swimming. I obsessed over it and hoped to go to the Olympic trials some day.

The worst part, I lost by .03 seconds. It was a sickening moment as my biggest goal of the year slipped between my fingers. I grew up with competition dripping from every corner of my home. Both of my parents were competitive swimmers and my identity was all tangled up in the sport.

It feels weird now, looking back and realizing this was still a moment for celebration and appreciation. Second in the state was nothing to hang my head over. But I’d fallen victim to zero sum thinking that is so common with competition — and often quite toxic.

The curse of second place is even scrutinized by academics. In a study led by economist, Dr. Adrian Kalwji, researchers studied the life expectancy of 978 US Olympic medalists from 1904 to 1936. On average, gold medalists lived to 73. Bronze medalists lived to 75 and silver medalists lived to 70. The study speculates that dissatisfactory outcomes for silver medalists have lasting effects on their life, both in socioeconomic status and psychological contentment. Their insights aren’t merely for sports, but extend to human thinking on competitive systems. Why is second place so fraught with disappointment?

(Me, Dad, Sister)

When I won silver, there was a feeling of squandered opportunity. I was so close I could smell it. I walked into the showers after my race on the verge of tears, and thought through the small mistakes I made and questioned everything. Could I have reacted quicker off the block? Could I have timed my turn better? Was my training wrong?

High school swim meet. Me in the blue cap. Yes, we wore speedos.

Second place hits hard because we use “relative standing” when analyzing outcomes. A silver can easily make you feel like the first loser. In a study of social comparisons by Dr. Abraham Buunk, his team found these comparisons make us feel better or worse, depending on which direction we focus on. Moreover, it is less the outcome that determines our feeling, and more how we choose to interpret it.

We anchor our self-perception to the nearest reference points which creates a framing problem. For example, in one study, participants said they’d rather live in a world where the average salary was $25,000 and they earned $50,000, than one where they earned $100,000 and the global average was $200,000. It is strikingly easy to look up, rather than down.

Which brings to mind one of my grandfather’s funnier moments demonstrating this concept. As young children, my sister and I would stand at attention in front of him after doing a task. He would sit in his recliner as we recited what we’d accomplished like we were military cadets. In this case, it was related to a cleaning chore.

We stood at attention and, as a reward, grandpa pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to me in full view of my 4-year-old sister and said, “Here you go!” Then, he reached into his wallet and handed my sister a one dollar bill. She looked down at it, grimaced in anger — then crumpled it up and chucked it at the wall. He immediately started laughing and then gave her five dollars. It highlighted the constant comparative thinking, which is why managing our expectations is so important.

After losing my 50 free, I went on to swim in college the subsequent year. I placed 3rd in the 100 free at the Atlantic 10 Championship and was thrilled. I’d barely qualified for finals and was in the outside lane. That bronze medal is my most prized accomplishment in sports and much of it is because of how unexpected it was. It felt like a gift.

Technically, I’d still lost the race. Why couldn’t I be happy about every defeat as I was with this one?

Why you should embrace 2nd place

When we are upset about an outcome not matching expectations, we often warp reality and use counterfactual thinking. Famed social economist, Daniel Kahneman, did an exercise where participants were told of two people, Mr. Crane and Mr. Thomas, who were rushing to catch their flight and were 30 minutes late because of their driver. Mr. Crane missed his flight by 30 minutes and Mr. Thomas missed his by five. Nearly every participant said Mr. Thomas was surely more upset than Mr. Crane. Why? Because he was so close to catching his flight.

In reality, the discrepancy didn’t matter. You either catch your flight or you don’t. The outcome has already occurred and there is no benefit to resenting one’s self over it.

Dr. Sergio Pellis studied how rats play fight during development. Often, a large rat will jump on a smaller one and have an immediate advantage and be poised to win. But around 30% of the time, the initiating rat will allow the other to win. The act of getting second place is fundamental to their bonding, contentment and development. If the larger rat dominated every time, he’d lose his training partner, peer, and they’d both miss out on learning. Without realizing it, they celebrate their silver metals.

Competitiveness that’s focused on improving a skill rather than dominating others is proven to increase satisfaction and competency. It is healthier and more logical, because losing is an inevitable consequence of competition. In my case, losing that swim race in high school lit a fire under me, and allowed me to perform well in college. I swam far better times and appreciated the consequence of small improvements to my stroke. I never forgot that .03 second gap. Heck, I’m here writing about it 22 years later.

Lastly, I urge you to stay gracious in victory or defeat. How you conduct yourself impacts your own psyche and how people perceive you. An amazing thing happened after losing my race. The guy who beat me, Eric, was so cool about the whole situation. The next night, we competed in another finals. Just before, we were standing in line for the walkout where they play music to hype up our race. I was standing by him and casually turned and said, “Good race last night. Congrats. It was close.”

He smiled, patted me on the back and said, “Hey, it was all luck. Good race.” And I so appreciated his humility in that moment. He could have been arrogant as many good swimmers are, and said, “Yeah, I could have swam a half second faster if I tried more.” But instead, he paid homage to his competitor.

Remember that the bitterness of losing is a comparison problem. Being outperformed can be a way to bond with others and appreciate how far you’ve come. It can be motivation to study your performance and your victor’s. Beware of making counterfactual comparisons, and building in a bunch of assumptions about why things happened the way they did.

Perhaps on that night, I swam faster than I ordinarily would have. Maybe my opponent had a slower night than usual. There was no use blaming myself. It was an honor to compete and feel alive.

Losing does not put you on a moral low ground. Appreciate the coveted fire of motivation that competition gives you. Give thanks for the competency it instills. It is as my coach often reminded me, “You are in a one person race with yourself.” Focus on progress, not domination. A setback has transformative power, if you allow it.