Why Event Photos Hold More Lasting Value Than Medals
Remember that feeling? The elation of crossing the finish line, lungs burning, legs aching, and then… the satisfying weight of a medal being draped around your neck.
When I first laced up my running shoes and started pushing my limits, those shiny discs were everything. Each one represented a personal best, a hard-fought race completed, a tangible symbol of my dedication.
That first half-marathon medal? It felt like a gold star for grown-ups.
The one from my fastest race in Canberra? Solid proof that I could tackle something truly challenging.
Even the Surf Coast medal, accompanied by a congratulatory hug, holds a special, warm memory.
And yes, like many of you, I’ve amassed a collection. Each one tells a story, a moment in time where I pushed myself and achieved something I set out to do. I understand the debate around participation medals – the desire to acknowledge everyone’s effort versus the potential dilution of achievement. For me, those early medals were a form of validation, a physical reminder of my progress.
But here’s the thing I’ve realised over time: those once-coveted medals now reside in a box on a shelf, waiting for a yet-to-be-determined display solution. It’s not that I’m any less proud of those accomplishments. The sweat, the early mornings, the mental battles – those are still etched in my memory. But the need for that tangible proof, that external validation, has faded.
Because for every single one of those events, there’s something else I invested in: the professional event photos. And honestly? Those are the memories I revisit far more often.
Think about it. A medal sits in a box. A photo captures a moment in time – the grimace of effort, the triumphant fist pump, the shared joy with fellow runners. It’s a visual story, a snapshot of the emotion and energy of the day. I can instantly be transported back to that specific moment, reliving the highs and the lows. I share these photos with family and friends, letting them glimpse the experience in a way a medal simply can’t.
Now, I know there’s a sentiment out there that event photos should be free. And I get the logic. They’re fantastic for personal sharing and undoubtedly great publicity for the event itself. But having spent time behind the lens at events, let me tell you, these photographers work their tails off. They’re out there for hours, often in less-than-ideal conditions – rain, shine, freezing cold – capturing thousands of individual moments. They’re lugging equipment, constantly adjusting, and then spending hours editing to deliver those perfect shots.
So, the next time you’re lining up for a race, consider this: instead of focusing solely on the potential for a medal, think about the value of those professional photos. They’re not just a picture; they’re a lasting memory, a way to truly relive your achievement and share it with others. And you know what? Supporting the hardworking photographers who brave the elements to capture our triumphs is a pretty great feeling, too. Maybe, just maybe, those photos are the real gold we should be chasing.
