The spring race season is now drawing to a close and glory awaits those of us who make it to our targeted finish lines. Family members will wave from the sidelines and strangers will cheer you through inflatable arches as volunteers wait at the finish to hang medals round your neck and goody bags off your wrist. Just like a proper athlete.
My first ever “proper” road race was the Bath Half Marathon in 2011, an enormous event with more than 10,000 runners. Volunteers hung medals around each of our necks as we finished – impressive work, because by the two-hour mark runners were crossing the line thick and fast. When I felt that weighty medallion swing against my chest I felt like a real champion.
Since that race I have accumulated quite a collection of medals, memorabilia and tat. My pyjamas are almost exclusively ill-fitting finisher T-shirts, the “glory hook” on which I hang my medals in my bedroom is starting to look a little strained – though a couple of the medals are so tacky they never made it to the hook at all.
The ubiquitous goody bags and the medals that are buried at the bottom of them are discussed in magazines and in online race reviews – “Did you get a medal?”, “What was in your goody bag?” – but in the real world I rarely hear runners talking about their goody bags, perhaps because their novelty eventually wears off, but perhaps also because they can be a bit pants.
It is nice to have a memento from a race that is particularly special or important to you, whether it’s your first 5k, your first marathon or a PB. One of my favourite mementos is a coaster made of Welsh slate handed out at the Wye Valley Runners’ New Year’s Day 10k. It has its own place in my bedroom – partly because it can’t be hung on my glory hook. Wye Valley Runners are very selective with their mementos, and would sooner offer nothing than hand out anything short of special. The club’s committee uses local businesses to have souvenirs made, keeping costs low (never more than 10% of the entry fee) and maintaining links between the race, its location, and local residents.
However, that thoughtful souvenir is a stark contrast to the usual frustration of sifting through a goody bag filled with promotional leaflets, herbal pastilles and old copies of magazines, while searching for a blister plaster or anything that might actually be of use immediately after a race.
Not all races provide participants with souvenirs, of course. The Brooks Last Friday of the Month races hosted in London by the Serpentine Running Club are monthly 5k midday races and, at £4 a pop, runners get what they pay for: a no frills, chip-timed 5km race that can be run during a lunch break. You don’t get a medal, but you do get a UKA-licensed race result to stick in your Power of 10 record.
Similarly, the Sri Chinmoy Athletic Club host races across the UK from 2 miles up to ultra distances, most of which are less than a tenner. The catch? You won’t get a goody bag. And my own club, the Mornington Chasers, host 10k races over the winter months in Regent’s Park, London, each costing £12 and winning you a drink of water and a banana.
These pocket money events are treasures of the running world. They offer time trial opportunities, or the chance to bag a PB without an obscene entry fee and commitment to raise sponsorship. They are almost always organised by local running clubs and made possible by volunteers, with any profits ploughed back into the club and the local sporting community. When races are organised by professional companies or charities, rather than by runners themselves, the importance of the goody bag seems disproportionate to the satisfaction of participation, and that can seem like a waste of volunteers’ time and resources.
So, what are you all hoping for at the finish line? Do you treasure your finisher T-shirts and seek out the races with the good goody bags? Or do you think that the best prize is in your finishing time and in your legs?
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