After racing for several years there’s been a few revelations along the way. First, I know that I’ll never win a race, I’ve stood there in the front thinking that I’m a Kenyan then as a wave of people pass me, it’s pretty obvious that I’m NOT a Kenyan. I never expected to feel such joy when I became a spectator of a race.
This time as spectator I became in the inner workings of the race rather than just showing up at the starting line and working toward a PR. I spent time getting people excited, talking people into starting a training program, working with people to keep them ON their training program. It felt good to see them hit small milestones all in leading up to the big one.
On race day, I felt the usual rush at the end that some people call “runner’s high.” This time it was different, my time was WAY off my time from the last time I ran the race. My “rush” came when I watched people of our team cross that finish line, some of them for the first time! The accomplish was not just another race put in the books but, watching others that at the beginning said they could never THINK about doing a race, running over that finish line with tears flowing from their eyes. We stand by the sidelines watching people high five them, cheer them on, congratulate them on their finish. They don’t see us standing there, clapping for them enjoying watching their rush of joy almost like it’s our own.
When you move out of competitor into spectator, the race is that much sweeter because just like everything else as you get older you learn that it’s not about you. When you serve rather than request to be served the rewards are more than that quick endorphin rush of crossing the finish line, they’re sweet feelings that last forever.
When have you been a spectator and not a competitor?
