The excitement is evident a contrasting mood to the pensive mood at the races start lines. Everything tonight is different except us. Same cast different location. Glowing, open pores, smoothly powdered faces clearly refreshed from days of sweating out the salts. Calm demeanor with no hurry in the world, the bunch often obsessed with time counts mins/km, seconds lost, seconds gained, records broken, paces maintained. Elegance and fashion lits the rainy night far away from the sport labels . The real contours on show,real bodies of art to delight, chiselled sculptures, head turning figures, often hidden in the luminous delight of running kits. This bunch making an admirable effort to take a pause from their binding indulgence: running, chasing air, a craze of some sort. A good sort of craze. Just they got heavy metals dangling on their necks. A clear evidence and pride of the strides taken, the heart beats, the elevations gained and yes calories consumed. A celebration party. They walk with pride in admiration, posing for shots, memories flooding of what it took to the finish line. To earn the medals.
Medals. Often in the form of a dangling beautifully crafted metal disc. But we got lots of medals. It’s the reward we get when we put effort to achieve something. The weight loss that gets us looking great. The breaking a barrier that looked like breaking into Guantanamo bay prison. Breaking through the plank, steady, solid, propped up. Attempts that leave you shaking like your body has been electrocuted.
Well…except tonight we cant quite see the “packs” from the planks. They’re tucked in under the sharp ironed shirts. Packs. 1,2,3,4,5,6…take your pick. Mine a proud 5 pack under construction. Yes 5. The 5th a constant reminder of the pride of childbirth. Evidenced by the troop that trails me. The commander himself at the throne. Proud of this lot. My pace setters. They’ve supported, cheered me on to bring the medals home. Today, a rainy sunday morning they each brought their own medal home. The Grand Nairobi cycle race. It poured. They steered on. Splashes of mud. Mad fun. They win. I, at the sidewalks today cheering because we all must sometimes pause and cheer on others to get their own “medals”. We each attain different medals, each to his own capabilities, desires, likes and cravings..yes…intense desires to get that which you so much desire, that which surprises your inner being. That which life only offers one opportunity.
“Medals” are a beauty. A show stopper. A reason to celebrate. A constant reminder of the hard work put in, a reminder of the limits we push, a reminder of setting free your inner limitations breaking up your cages and being your truest, being the best self there has ever been. We see others dangle their “medals” walking in a confident stride. Well deserving. We admire. We desire a moment in their shoes. How is that for a reason to get to action and achieve more “medals”. The more, the better, the prettier, Quite a sight!
Go get your “medal”.
