Some wins are ugly. They still count. Nobody asks how pretty it was on the championship ring.

Style gets remembered by the people who were there and forgotten by everybody else. Results are recorded plainly, with no note about whether it was comfortable, elegant or nearly lost. Holding out for a clean version of success usually means passing on the messy one that was actually available. Finishing badly still counts as finishing.

Take the ugly route when it is the one in front of you. Scraped through, late, barely, with help; all of those are ways of arriving. Save the perfectionism for things where the manner genuinely matters.