Medal of Honor

There is a box in my workout room that holds my bib numbers. I save every one of them and write down the race, date, distance, and time on them. I save my training calendars with the squares colored in and print-outs of race results. I keep the coolest swag items and the neatest bags. And, yes, I keep my medals there too.

Living where I do has it's advantages. The races aren't huge so you don't get lost in the crowd. And if the fast old ladies don't enter I sometimes manage to bring home a little bling. But what's the prize worth when there is no one there to compete against? Some would say "not a lot". And I might have said that too in my younger days. But looking at that box of medals made me realize something. I'm still running.

When I see the fit men and women who enter these races I can't help but be humbled. They are so fast and so smooth and so, so, so much better then me. When I step up to the line I feel like an imposter. Someone pretending to be an athlete. They work hard and train hard and have God given talent and man-made technique. They leave me in the dust and make it look so easy as I'm sweating up a storm and gasping for every breath as my hips and knees scream at me. They deserve those medals and the recognition of a job well done.

But when there are only a few in my age group I start to get that competitive drive and I think, maybe, just maybe, I can do well enough to place. If I pace myself just right and suck it up at the end, or in the middle, or just after the first mile, then I might actually win something, even if it is another medal to throw in the box. I try a little harder and push a little more and run some of my best races when there are only a few competitors in my group.

More importantly, I feel those medals are a badge of honor for sticking it out and showing up at a race. As I get older that becomes even more of an accomplishment. Every time I pin on a bib I'm proving to myself that age is just a number.

I have run in a few races were I was the only person in my group. I have been know to sneak a peak at the registration sheet looking for ladies my age to size up the competition. I've even come right out and asked how old someone was after we crossed the finish line in almost a dead heat. My favorite shirt says "Don't pass me, I'm not in your age group." But it's all in fun. In the younger groups there is more competition and so those medals are more precious and harder to get. But when you are in the "Masters" division, it's all about outlasting the other old ladies! I'll take those medals no matter how they come my way and throw them in the box. When I look back on them, I'll know they are awards for stepping up to the line at an age when many are sitting back and watching from the sidelines. They truly are my badge of honor.