Damn Skippy We Won...Now Get Your Turd Out of my Punch Bowl!

After 23 years of lacing up my shoes, I can finally admit that I really do love running. I love what it does for my body and mind, but most importantly, I love the running community. It is comprised of people from all walks of life, all shapes and sizes and all levels of ability. They all come together in the form of training or races to laugh, joke and encourage - sharing both misery and success along the way.

I’ve never taken myself very seriously on my runs, even when I was able to pull off sub-8 minute miles. I’ve stopped for beers, a sandwich and even a couple of yard sales during my races. I’ve worn costumes, wigs, umbrella hats and trucker apparel at various events over the years. I always have fun and I know that if I show up happy and ready to run, at least some of that enthusiasm is going to brush off on someone else and the more happy people on the course, the better the world becomes. I suppose I believe that through running, I am spreading the gospel of happiness and giving back to the world – and that, in turn, makes ME happy.

Yesterday, my team won the local Fall Series for the second year in a row. For those who don’t know, there is no limit to the number of team members, but only the top three scores count for each race. As such, I am particularly proud of this series since my time actually counted for three of the four races – keeping in mind that I was wearing a keg costume for one of those races.

Mind you, I am NOT a fast runner and my time only counted because we had a teammate absent for three of the races.  Still, I kept on smiling and running, continuing to fight for a mid-pack finish each time. I feel like I put in my miles and some good effort and am rightly proud of my accomplishment. I had loads of fun as the stack of running, smiling photos can attest.

However, while still trying to catch my breath at the finish, I was immediately confronted by a member of the second place team who notified me that my team won (I had no idea as I was still trying to breathe and really wanted some water) and stated that our team win is “unfair” because she believes at least one of my teammates is “elite.” I’d heard this accusation from her before and tried to ignore the ugliness and spite, but no one likes a turd in their punch bowl.  This time, I was angry, offended and sad for her at the same time.

(The truth is that the results of the Series were so close that had the second place team simply run on average six seconds faster per mile, they could have won themselves.  Sounds like good competition to me and far from an “elite” team that ran away with the Series.)

Sadly, it was disappointing to see that someone truly missed all the best parts about running that I’ve come to love. I have a ridiculous collection of ribbons, trophies and finishers medals stacking up in my house. Some mean more than others not because of where I finished but simply because I did. They are happy reminders of my training, my travels and the friendships I made along the way. I’m reminded of the incredible volunteers and race directors that spent their time allowing me to show up and enjoy a good run. The cheering, the cow bells and the wonderful water stops along the way where there’s always a kind word for you, no matter where you are in the pack. I’m reminded of all the uplifting words that keep you going on the days when you really want to puke, give up or both.  Those medals mean nothing to me without the camaraderie and solidarity I experience when I run. 

My Fall Series teammates truly are the best and it has nothing to do with their finish times. They are good people who inspire and accept others no matter what your pace may be. I love my team not because we won, but because they make me a better, healthier person and they challenge me in ways I would never challenge myself. They inspired me to run my very first ultra race this fall, where I learned how much my body and mind are truly capable of delivering. I’ve shared happiness, frustration, sadness, elation, fears and beers with them all. When I’ve had a rough week, I still can’t help but smile when I see them at the start line. It means everything to me because when you run with your friends, you understand that simply making it to the race at all is sometimes a momentous feat, given all that life throws your way.

I know that they all have busy lives and spent the earlier part of the week juggling families, work, relationships and personal demons, just like everyone else. But on race day – the world stops for a brief moment and we make time for each and take joy in each other’s company. What draws us together is the shared journey and support we give each other along the way. We come together on race day and show support not only on the running trail, but for life itself. We are stronger together because we encourage, reassure, cheer and affirm each other’s success. We share hobbies, pet peeves, and a deep love for animals and good beer. We are friends before runners.

Success comes in various forms and I’d have to say that our biggest success this year is not the Fall Series but rather the friendships we have formed. I couldn’t care less about a medal or trophy at the end of the season. In fact, if anyone else wants them, I will gladly give them up because when I was told at the finish line that we won, my true response should have been – “In more ways than you will ever know.”