Congrats, Cheapskate. You Made A Kid Cry And An Old Person Mad

I get that road races are hard to do. Not the running part. The management part. Being a race director or volunteer anything at a race can stink.

Trust me. As a runner, we mostly love you.

Unless you cheap out and screw people over when they’ve paid for the race and the swag that comes with it.

I did a race today where 850 medals were ordered when over 1,000 runners were pre-registered. And the late registrants were not restricted from getting a medal, to ensure those who registered timely received one.

I have hundreds of medals. This one was important. The race was run in my parents’ old hometown and on Memorial Day. I ran the race for my dad, who served in WWII in the Navy. At the finish line, there was no explanation for why the medals ran out, where you could request one (or if you could request one) to be mailed or picked up. It was as if “Oh, well, too bad for you. You weren’t among the fast people to get to the finish line, so we’re not dealing with this.” The race organizers just thumbed their noses at the very people who support their business.

When I went to timing to check my finish and try to find out where the race director was, a very nice man insisted I take his medal. No one had ever made me that kind of offer. But as someone who rarely gets a podium, I actually want these medals, and this one in particular.

Turns out, the medal had a better purpose.

When I left the timing table, still hell-bent on whacking the race director into next week, I spotted two teenagers: his arm around her, and she was crying. Turns out, he finished first and received a medal. She didn’t.

I looked at them and thought, “If I was her mom, there would be nothing I could do to fix this and make her feel better.” But I have a medal. And now she has it. They were both so appreciative; two of the nicest teenagers I have ever met. They give me a lot of hope for the good in young people.

I am posting this because sometimes a race means more than a medal, even to me. I am still a little gutted about the medal if I am being honest. But to see a kid cry is a real blow to my soul. So note to the race organizer, WildSide Online Inc.: you ruined the race for a lot of people, which is a crappy thing to do. I learned a lesson in humility, in the hometown where the people who raised me right used to live. Oh, and I am boycotting your races from now on. You’re going to cheapen the experience? Do it to someone else.