Bold Moves

I think most people are a bit self-conscious about how they look in photos.  It’s probably fair to say that most people err on the side of being overly crtical when assessing their own photogenic quality.  I’ll admit that I fall in that category.  Over the years though, I’ve become far less negative about my photos than I once was.  Time has a way of sending a message….”Sweetie, you are short and you will always be short, so stop being shocked when you see how short you are in photos compared to everyone else!”  Sure, you can use other more PC adjectives like ‘petite’ or ‘undertall,’ but it doesn’t change the stark reality.  So now I look at photos and I assess general things like “do I look fat, or did I really think that outfit looked good, or wow – maybe it’s time for a hairstyle change.” Every now and then I am startled by a photo in which I’m pleased with how I look.  Most of the time, I prefer to avoid photos all together.  It was easier to just be happy with who I am and how I feel than to be confronted with my appearance not meeting my expectations.

Running has completely changed my perspective about photos and my self image.  You’re probably thinking that it’s because running has given me more self-confidence.  Or that running has improved my physique. Or that running has resulted in my losing weight.  Or that running just makes me feel good about myself so that my outlook for everything is filtered with a positive lens.  While all of those things are actually true, that is not why running has changed my perspective about how I look in photos. Quite the contrary!

Have you ever seen people running?  Of course you have.  More than likely, you’ve seen them in parks or in your neighborhood and overall they probably look fine.  You don’t really notice them too much because you only see them for a few seconds.  Unless you have stood on the sideline and watched runners along a race route, especially a half or full marathon, you probably haven’t really noticed what runners in motion look like.  I am not refering to those elite runners either; I’m talking about the average runner, you….me….the guy/gal down the road.  Lets be honest; runners on a long training run or in a race are an interesting sight and not likely to land themselves on the cover of Runner’s World Magazine.

When you are pushing yourself to your limits; digging for that last ounce of energy to reach the finish line that is still a few miles off; when you are stretching out your stride to stave off the flicker of a calf cramp; when you are fighting the nausea that can accompany pushing your body beyond the limits of common sense; you feel like a champion!  You feel like you are conquering the race challenge or the training goal challenge and you feel like you are controlling your body instead of your body controlling you.  When you ignore the pain that is signaling you to stop, you feel invincible. With all that Superman mojo coarsing through your veins you’d think that you would look the part, right?  That you should look awesome, an amazing speciman of physical endurance!  Eh…not quite.   

You look, frankly, horrible.  Yes, we runners look pretty darn bad when we’re fighting through all of that muck to cross the coveted finish line.  We may feel like we should earn a spot on the Wheaties cereal box, but the race photos always show the real deal.  On the course photos are the worst!  You never know where those sneaky photograhpers are so they capture every bit of the grimace on your face, the slack jaw of exhaustion, the short stride that feels like your stretching out when really you’re shuffling along.  Dang it all, photos don’t lie.  I was horrified when I saw my first race photos which were from the 2011 Waddell & Reed KC Marathon.  I was so happy to finish my first 26.2 mile race yet was shocked to see how truly haggard I looked in the photos.  I did manage to display a tired smile as I crossed the finish but none of my course photos were even remotely noteworthy.  I was, at first, thoroughly depressed. 

Then I ran more races.  More photos.  More goofy running shots, looking weird or caught in mid stride so it appears that I’m hopping on one foot instead of running.  Every now and then I spotted the photographer so I could give a thumbs up, wave or generate a decent smile as I ran by.  Still, the overall running photos were pretty bad.  This should have made me hate them or become even more critical.  This should have made me more conscious of my appearance.  Instead, it did the opposite.  The crummy running photos, the reality that I look goofy when I run, made me arrive at a new place — I no longer gave a rat’s you-no-what how I looked!  I run because I love it, not because I look good at it!  If I look that bad doing something I love so much…to heck with it all!  The chains of appearance are broken!  Once you’ve been posted on the internet with sweat stains on your singlet and running tights, snot stains on your arm sleeves, hair wisps looking like Einstein and polished off with the “Zombie Runner” expression….can it get any worse?? There’s nothing left to do but EMBRACE the camera and treat all race photos as nothing but a source of amusement.

Now when I go to the website to view my race photos, I no longer do it with a premonition of doom.  Instead, I head to the website with a smirk on my face, eager to see how weird/goofy/haggard I look.  Marc Parent, author of the Newbie Chronicles in RW magazine once wrote about the “Zombie Runner” that we all become at the end of a hard/long race.  I think of that and chuckle as I search for my “Zombie photos.”  I did get a bit smarter for my 2nd KC Marathon in 2012; as I sprinted to the finish (ok, it felt like I was sprinting but looked like a bouncy walk), I summoned my remaining energy to raise my arms and smile as I crossed the finish line –snap!  My first good race photo!  Most days though, I get a good laugh after each race as I look at my race photos and yes, I scroll through others as well.  Let’s be real, runners are funny looking! 

Some of my worst photos were at races where I posted my PR for that distance.  Now I have a sort of pride in looking zombie-ish or awkward; maybe that’s what my inner-Superman looks like!