Over 400 of you badass mother runners took plenty of your precious minutes to fill out the obnoxiously long survey we put together for Train Like a Mother (TLAM). There were so many thoughtful, insightful, funny answers—not that we expected anything less from this tribe—and if space weren’t an issue, we would’ve run about 10,000 more responses. But then TLAM would’ve been a kettlebell, not an orange book you could pull out of your diaper bag or purse to kill time at a park or a piano lesson.
One of SBS’ favorite phrases is “Waste not, want not.” (She tends to proclaim it as we stand in front of the airport security line before chugging 24 ounces of water in less than a minute. Seriously: I would’ve wanted her on my collegiate drinking squad.) I waste water more liberally, but neither one of us are wiling to waste any of your hard work. So as we countdown to the launch of Train Like A Mother in mid-March, every Friday we are going to publish a sidebar that, after much debate, sadly ended up on the cutting room floor.
Take It From A Mother: How do you display your medals?
“I have a [Restoration Hardware] hook in the shape of muscleman next to my bed. I look at it as I fall asleep or wake up, and it reminds me of everything I can accomplish when I put my mind to it.
—Amber (thinking about having a quilt made with her old cotton race tees)
“I store them in my drawer o’spandex.”
—Chandra (hopes to spend some time with a running coach because, “I feel like I bounce too much.”)
“I don’t. Finish medals, while an accomplishment, are not worth the hassle to dust.”
—Dedra (runs after her girls are in bed because she, “doesn’t want any fingers getting caught in the treadmill”)
“My husband and I accumulate medals, so we donated a bunch to Medals4Mettle [a non-profit that re-gifts the medals to individuals fighting illnesses]. We keep the pretty ones to adorn our Christmas tree as ornaments.”
—Katie (an ultrarunner, who logged 3,256 miles in 2010)
“They hang on the drawer pulls of my nightstand to remind me why I need to get out of bed.”
—Lisa (ran a marathon with a migraine. “I’d rather crawl over the finish line than have a DNF next to my name.”)
“They are in my son’s toy box. When I was younger, I displayed all my bibs, medals, and trophies. Since returning to running after a few years off, I’ve stopped caring about medals.”
—Leslie (ran (and won) her first road race at age 8)
“They hang from the rear-view mirror of my car. My 3-year-old sees them in the car and asks, ‘Did you run that race? Did you run fast?’ It’s such a boost at the end of a long day to answer, ‘Yes, baby, I did.’”
—Wendy (wants to sign up for every race she hears someone she knows is running)
“I don’t have any yet, but I’m scrapbooking my running bibs.”
—Jenni (favorite race: the Cupcake Race 5K. “Great incentive to run.”)
“We have a big armoire in the kitchen and I hung my first one there as a joke, as in, ‘What if I started hanging all my medals right in the kitchen?’ They’re all there now.”
—Laura (a serial racer, she does at least three 5Ks per month. “But probably more like five or six.”)
“They are all somewhere in the black hole of the toy room. Speaking of medals, when my older son was in 3-year-old preschool, we dug through my race medals for those that were gold and silver colored so he could wear them on ‘gold/silver’ day. All of the other kids were wearing clothes those colors; he was the only one sporting medals. When the teacher saw us walking in she exclaimed ‘Great idea! Are those all your father’s medals?’ I immediately responded, ‘No, they’re mine!’ I am still really put out by her assumption, and think of it nearly every time I see a medal lying around the house.”
—Jennifer (pre-kids she was all about massage therapy. Post-kids? “The best I can do now is have the kids walk on my back.”)