Whenever I visit a running Facebook group, or even when I’m at a race, I see people who don’t value race medals. They don’t care about them. Maybe they refuse to get one at the end, or they give them away to their grandkids or someone else. I understand giving them to your kids, but I don’t understand not valuing them.
I cherish every single medal I’ve earned. And yes, I’ve earned every last one. Each medal I have has a story. If I showed you each one, and I had plenty, I could tell you them.
I ran races in the 80s and 90s and I’ve lost those medals. Medals weren’t important to me back then. Let’s face it, not a lot of anything but partying was important to me back then. I wish I had those medals. But I have the next best thing, I have the medals from the races that I’ve done in sobriety.
Some races were way harder than others. Some races sucked the whole way. Some were a blast. You know how it goes. You have the same stories I’m sure. But every single medal I have sends me back to place, to an event and the people there.
On a trail we’ll have to trade race stories sometime.