Uses for Race Medals

God, people sure get butthurt when it comes to talking about race medals.  On one side of the argument are members of a vocal crowd who feel that you don't deserve a medal unless you win the effing race.  Truth.  On the other side are folks who want that medal as proof of their accomplishment, irrespective of how "accomplished" they may actually be.


Myself?  I actually do like a good race medal for the marathon (keep 'em if I'm running less than that).  I put it on immediately after the race, and if I go directly for beers without showering (because who doesn't love going into social situation with a girl who's just sweat and pissed through 26.2 miles and hasn't cleaned up afterward?), I'll leave it on.  If I'm lucky, this prompts people to buy me a drink.  Or leave an extra bar stool of space between me and them, which isn't a bad outcome.

After the San Fran marathon.  I looked pained because that was the race during which I tripped on the Golden Gate Bridge and ate shit, tearing up my arms, legs, and hands.

But after that, what are you supposed to do with them?  Some people throw them in a drawer or box, never to be seen again.  Some people wear them to work on Monday.  (For what it's worth, the latter type of person is a douche, and I'm willing to bet, not particularly "accomplished").  I have mine hanging in my room, where they aren't on full display and begging to be acknowledged by every person who walks into my apartment, but accessible to me (and any dudes I bring home and want to impress, though obviously if they make it that far, they're already suitably impressed.  Or intoxicated).

This positioning also allows me to slam my head against them
every time I sit up to read in bed, which is terrific

But, they could be doing more.

For example, this morning's run was a tough one.  I stayed out too late drinking beers and eating frosted animal crackers and gummy worms, and when I cracked open my eyes for the first time at dawn (actually, the first time was at 2:30am, when I thought I might actually die of dehydration), knew I had 6 miles to tackle and plans after work that made snoozing impossible.  So I reluctantly got dressed, stepping over animal cracker carcasses and someone else's crumbled bank receipt indicating a balance of $101,607 in his checking account (regrettably we never did track him down last night, for those who followed this quest along via social media), and rummaged for running clothes.  I winced as I put sneakers on my chewed up, high-heel wearing feet.  I stepped onto the stoop where I had arrived home via yellow chariot just a few short hours beforehand.  With the deck stacked against me, I headed to Prospect Park for my 6 mile recovery run.

And I did it.

You want to talk about accomplishment?  I ran 6 miles at 6am after spending $60 at a bar that exclusively serves $5 beers last night.  If anything deserves a medal, it's that.

So here's my new plan for race medals: I'm going to start wearing them in my bedroom when I succeed at a particularly difficult work out.  Of course, I'll also be the one who defines success and difficult in this scenario.  But if I get home in the morning after slogging through a particularly strenuous run, or manage to knock out mile repeats after a long day in the office, I'm putting one of those babies on!  


(If you're looking for something somewhat more productive than this to do with your race medals, you can donate them to Medals4Mettle, which provides race medals to children and adults battling debilitating illness.  I have no affiliation with Medals4Mettle, and have never donated to them.  But as you can see from the photo above, I have accumulated more medals than I foresee having success at difficult workouts, so I'll be making a donation myself.)