I have a friend who’s won more call-in, mail-in and race-related and mail-in contests than everyone else I know combined. Electronics, meals, tickets, tanks of gas, CDs, DVDs and cold-hard cash. He’s won it all times-two. Or three. Conversely, I’ve had a difficult time winning a simple coke off a bottle top. For as long as I can recall.
Recently I entered a contest to win a pair of shoes. I didn’t expect to win. It’s been several weeks and I haven’t heard back; as expected. However, the entry was a great exercise in memory and finding a bit of life perspective. The challenge was to submit an entry of an all time favorite foot-race; no distance or time constraints given. I needed a couple days to sort through several years covering multiple states of residence and life situations. If I could give a guess at most responses they likely included a lot of firsts and fastest. Neither crossed my mind.
My entry was a super small, almost-home-town event a number of years ago and processing it meant considerably more than the pair of shoes I didn’t win:
A slightly above average runner (at best) through high school; I was nothing for my parents to brag about. Years later I found myself close enough to my hometown to invite my parents to a local 10k held near Lake McBride, IA; a familiar spot. For the first time in years my parents were able to watch one of my events. Not athletic by nature, my folks have a competitive streak to them so while the nuances (or even basic reasons!) for a small-town road race escaped them; they had an appreciation for the friends and family all gathered to support their respective athletes.
As the gun sounded I felt an unusual mix of pride, nervousness and most importantly adrenaline! Far from my best form I called on an emotional cocktail to carry me up and down a surprisingly punishing blend of hills and curves on the mostly empty familiar Eastern Iowa roads. Childhood memories filled the time normally devoted to tracking pace and breathing. Sights from years earlier filled the space normally devoted to staring down yet another runner to pick-off.
Rounding the final corner to the finishing stretch for the first time I clearly heard my parents cheering–that quickly faded as I finally turned into an athlete (sort-of) and focused on targets just ahead. Through the fog of events and emotions I somehow landed in a good position made all the more memorable by the knowing smiles of parental approval. Definitely worth the entry fee. http://www.coolrunning.com/results/01/ia/May12_LakeMa_set2.html
While it didn’t get me a shiny new pair of kicks; it did stir some buried memories which was worth considerably more.