When the race is over, it’s what you truly have after all is said and done. And I’m not just talking about all the goodies like Gatorade, donuts, Powerbars, and bagels. Or the t-shirts. Or the medals.
The food is gone by the end of the day. Whether the race is short or lengthy, I refuel like I haven’t eaten in days.
The t-shirt goes in a pile in my closet along with t-shirts past. But are friends, our supporters, are always around. Always there. Always fresh. Gathering no dust.
When I think about it my awards, they are out of sight. I have a finisher medal, third place in age division medals, and a Santa bobble head trophy. The finisher medal is in my daughter’s toy box (I think, well at least that is the last place I saw it). The age division medals are most likely in the bureau in my bedroom. And the Santa bobble head is packed away with out Christmas lights and ornaments.
My husband’s are in similar places. His trophies are in our closet. And his medals are buried with mine. Some of those trophies are for first place and some of those medals are for second or third.
During these races, we’ve had friends and family on the sidelines. Or someone literally by our side.
My husband’s first, and only marathon, was with his college friends in Rhode Island. 26.2 miles of dust free friendship.
I’ve begun many a race with my friends at the start and waited for them at the finish. There’s no dust there.
Food is eaten, t-shirts are lost in a pile, and medals and trophies are forgotten.