13.1 Medal(less) Miles

I ran a half marathon in 2011, I think. I mean, I have a medal to prove it, but no picture. No medal, no staged photo at the finish line, no nothing. Just a memory. A dream I dreamed – but it feels like it’s gone from me. So I did what I always do in moments like these. I wrote a letter. A manifesto if you will about 13.1 medal-less miles.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Competitor Group

San Diego, California 92121

To Whom This Concerns,

 

I was a participant in the 2nd Annual Rock & Roll Half/Full Marathon in Las Vegas this year. I have/had been excited for the experience for quite some time. Having been to Las Vegas numerous times, clearly this event provided me a unique and exciting Las Vegas experience – one the competitor in me just had to be part of! I even attempted to get my friends to join in. Though many could not make it, we have already begun talks of participating in the event next year!

Fairly new to running, I’ve eased myself into it, taking on shorter distance races in my area (Virginia Beach). It just so happened that I participated in the Wicked 10K... An absolutely amazing time running in costume at the beach. Not really knowing what to expect, when I crossed the finish line, I was greeted with a sea of smiles, congratulatory wishes, and a medal of accomplishment – I Finished!

My only goal for the half marathon was to finish. This was a personal goal, and the sentiments of my best friend who awaited me at the finish line. His parting words to me were, “If you want a ride home, I’ll see you at the finish line.”

Between mile 7 and 8, I took my break from running to relax my legs. I told myself this would be a short break, don’t stop moving, finish, because my best friend and that awesome medal is waiting for you at the finish line. As the cold set in and the wind and drizzle came upon me, I shortened that long statement to “medal, finish.”

I crossed the finish line...looked for my best friend to smile for the camera, and gazed around for medals. Though my feet were chilled to the core and my teeth began to chatter, there was enough adrenaline to find it. I joined the line at the information booth, headphones still blasting, waiting in line for a medal. I noticed that the two young ladies in front of me walked away upset. Upon taking my headphones off and observing the irritated look on the volunteer’s face, I soon learned what they did. No more half marathon medals. I was told rather coldly that I would receive my medal in eight weeks via mail.

 

I left perplexed. I debated whether or not to address the manner in which she spoke to me, but knew that no matter our discourse, I would leave empty handed. As I recall the events of this past Sunday, I cannot help but feel that my achievement, finishing my first half marathon EVER, all by myself, is a little sullied. After all, everyone wants to see a photo I cannot produce; me at the finish with my medal. Further, I cannot help but be saddened that whenever I receive my medal it will not be engraved. I was so excited to learn that this could be done at the finish line... I already planned what I would engrave and how my best friend and I would laugh and reminisce on all our accomplishments in that moment. Sure, this can be done by other means, but the nostalgia, memory and feeling that would have been wrapped up in that special moment is gone; he lives in Las Vegas and I reside in Norfolk. That would be an expensive memory to remake.

 

In reflecting on this experience, I think back to the registration process. As I logged on to the “strip at night” website and began the process for what I expected to be the most amazing experience ever, I noticed all the rules, regulations, and disclaimers. Once I signed up and paid my $125 that was it. No changing, no giving my registration to another person if I couldn't make it, no refund if something happened – done deal...show up or lose out.

 

I didn’t register in November or days before the race. I registered around May/June. I agreed to your terms, followed your rules, paid a ridiculous amount to fly across country, was on time for the race, went to my proper corral, competed and most importantly, I finished. While there were thousands of people who performed more excellently than I, besting times and exceeding their personal goals, the fact remains, I did everything I agreed to and was instructed to do, and you did not hold up your end of the agreement.

As a programmer in a University setting, I can imagine the amount of time, energy and effort than goes into large scale events; however I would not presume to know how that is magnified when organizing an event such as a half/full marathon, add to that the location, the Las Vegas Strip! With that being said, I can take a volunteer maybe being a little rude, some piece of the event starting a little late, long lines, or having to stand and wait for an informed and accurate response. What is still difficult for me to excuse is being told that my $125 translates to my receiving specific products, and leaving Las Vegas without a particular item – the one in which I desired the most. Furthermore, there was no consolation, no fix, nothing offered to lessen the disappointment. “We know who didn't get medals; you'll get it in the mail in eight weeks.” It’s not like I could wait eight weeks later to pay you. I received a half-hearted, unapologetic “apology” and a look past me to the next person in line as they prepared to deliver the same news in a similar uncaring manner.

 

I will put what’s left of my faith in your revised word, mail receipt of my medal within 8 weeks. Please know that I am very disappointed. While this has not deterred my desire to run and compete, it has made me question if I should continue racing in your organization's events. I realize that the threat (and this by no means is that) of losing one registrant is not the end of the world and will certainly not ruin you; however, my personal ethics have always been that I first inform the source of my malcontent, before sharing it with others.

Best Regards,

Bib #39840
 

I went back to Las Vegas. #redemption

I received a call the day this letter was received. It was from a rather kind woman named Michelle. We spoke for about twenty minutes about my experience in Las Vegas. She listened as I recited my impassioned story about my less than satisfactory experience. Michelle apologized profusely. She sent me a t-shirt and a medal. Weeks later I received another medal. I consider this matter henceforth, now and forever more…UNRESOLVED!

I want my damn picture! Michelle was nice though…