When I ran my first 5k in 2010, my dad took this picture of me in utter disbelief of my finish time as I came out of the finish corral:
I couldn't believe that I had finished under 40 minutes and had beaten my mom. This finish photo set the bar for every other race I would participate in from then on.
A year later, I ran my first 10K. I asked my then-boyfriend to take a photo of me when I was crossing the finish line and this is what I got:
He's lucky he didn't have to walk home from Philadelphia.
I've completed so many races that I've worked my ass off for, eagerly scrolling through the finish line photos the next week only to find that the photographer had packed up before I crossed the line.
Nothing pisses me off more than this.
Several years ago, my friend Kelly and I spent almost nine hours on the trails at the Hyner View Trail Challenge during a monsoon, sliding through mud and dragging ourselves up mountains. We couldn't wait to cross that finish line, get our medals, our finish photo, and a cold beer. It took us so long that by the time we crossed, all we got was our medals and a car ride back to the parking lot. There is nothing more disheartening than working your butt off only to realize that your best wasn't as good as others'.
I realize we're all on a schedule. I get that photographers are busy. But when you choose to photograph a race, stay at the finish line until we've all crossed. While some of us may not be able to finish a 10k in 40 minutes, our hour and 20 minute finish time took just as much heart and guts as the fastest runners out there. We deserve the glory of that finish line picture just as much.