In a previous column, I mentioned I’m for a half marathon. And I’m delighted to report that in preparation I’ve been running consistently with an organized training program, I’m cross training, I have (mostly) given up alcohol for the summer, and I am eating healthy, unprocessed food.
So what do I want? A medal?
Actually, that’s exactly what I want.
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My primary motivator for all of the training and sacrifice this Godforsaken event requires is the medal I’ll receive as I cross the finish line. That one tangible symbol of accomplishment is a more compelling reason to complete the race than anything else.
This may be because I grew up in a time before every child was awarded a trophy for blowing their nose. Sure, throughout my life I’ve earned a few ribbons, some certificates, and even varsity letters (letters which are still kept pristine in boxes stored with other treasured items from youth, like my I want my MTV buttons…and my unbridled optimism), but the only medals I have are for other distance races I’ve run. So in my mind, they really signify something. And that is that I’m willing to pay a $100 entry fee and give up a carefree summer o’ fun for a small piece of metal I can really only wear on the day of the race.
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I love the idea of medals so much I’ve been working on finding a suitable every day replacement for the finisher’s medallion. Recently, I went through the process of requesting a government badge for a client site I visit frequently. I was excited to wear this badge on a lanyard, thinking it would mimic the feeling of having a medal around my neck and make me feel like a winner. Disappointingly, this did not make me feel like a winner, but it did make want to wear a short-sleeved dress shirt with a tie and take six months’ worth of leave every year.
Oh. I totally went there.
On a more rational level, I realize that completing the race is its own reward and that equating my value and self-worth to a medal is ridiculous and a bit juvenile.
On the other hand, I’M GETTING A MEDAL, so nah nah nah nah nah.