Bling don’t mean a thing…

bike

…but that doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy getting the odd T shirt, hoodie top or medal.

They ran out of medals at Hardman, so mine was sent along by post. If I was to crack a joke here, I would say that the speediness of the arrival of said medal was commensurate with the athlete who earned it. But I wouldn’t be so cruel…

medal
The Hardman medal.

Anyway. It’s here now, and has joined others hanging on the back door of my office, along with a few other souvenirs of previous sojourns. And rather nice it is too. I must admit, I got a slight shiver when I saw the image of Ross Castle. I saw this rather beautiful building six times on the run. It was daytime when I first passed it on the outbound loop; by the last time of asking, it was lit up with spotlights. I’m sure to most folks it says ‘heritage’, ‘history’, ‘architecture’ and other things besides. To me, it just said, ‘hey, you again… you still have a long way to go, buddy…’

To be honest, the thing I like the most from a race is the number. The rest is a bonus, but I’m rarely stuck for T shirts, and medals are nice too, but they didn’t travel with you on that journey. That’s why your race number means so much.

backdoor
My office door. I am not a number. I am a free man! Unless of course I am in a race. With a number on. In which case, I am a number…
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