The Thing About Bling

[3 minute read]

Running ‘bling’ is a funny old thing, isn’t it? Some people couldn’t give a rat’s. Others totally get their nickers in a knot over it.

Me? I’m somewhere in between. But on the weekend I was reminded of something. Something kinda important.

External validation is what I like to call ‘Triple F’ = Fundamentally Fucking Flawed.

Let me explain.

On the weekend I won gold at the Masters Games. *fist pump* Except I didn’t really ‘win’ it at all. Or more to the point, I’m not sure I earned it. It was more of a charity award. You see, I entered the short course multisport event, but then swapped the 5km run for a 21km trail half marathon. So as you can imagine, my combined finish time (including the 5.5km kayak and 17km bike ride) was a little behind everyone else. 3:56 to be precise – a full two hours behind the overall winner. Considering the trail half marathon took me 2:20, I suppose I would have been just a few minutes behind had I done the flat 5km I was supposed to.

But here’s the thing: at the end of my ride, before the full, combined results had been finalised, I was awarded gold for being first in what they called the ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ combo – having combined and completed two different events. But of course, because I was literally the only person to have done that, a gold was pretty much guaranteed. The only problem was, I was actually a bit embarrassed about it. I felt like a bit of a fraud. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy with my overall effort and performance – in fact, given my current level of fitness, or lack of, I was fucking delighted to have completed all three stages as well as I did. And not die. But a gold medal when you’re literally the only person? Come. On.

And then a funny thing happened: I got the official multisport results and noticed that despite my combined finish time, I actually finished first in my age group, which would have legitimately earned gold in the multisport event anyway, and felt like slightly less of a fraud. Slightly. Because, ah, yeah, there were no other males in my age group either. (Just three blokes battling it out in the 60-69 category!) So I guess, technically at least, I did win, and deserve, gold.

Truth be told, I’m still slightly embarrassed by the whole thing and it reminds me how important it is to have your own ‘internal barometer’ for your own value and worth and effort and achievements. What others think isn’t always a great, useful, or accurate gauge. Maybe you ‘win’ but are still disappointed with your performance compared to what you know you are capable of. Or maybe you come last but are delighted with your effort. And well you fucking should be. Bling or not. Recognition or not. It’s a good time to go back to basics and remember why we do this stuff, whatever that ‘stuff’ might be, in the first place? So other people will ooh and ah over us? So they’ll give us bright shiny things? Or so we can be better humans?

I first learned this in my original career as a creative guy. Having clients tell you your work is shit, as they so often do, can be kind of confronting. And soul destroying. So eventually you learn to judge your own work. Maybe they love it, but secretly you know it’s far from your best work. In which case, job done, pay day coming, but not particularly satisfying. Or perhaps they hate it, even though you know, deep down, it’s fucking awesome and they’re just fucked in the head. In which case no pay day, back to the drawing board, but no need for what’s left of your soul to be destroyed because you know your work was solid.

How do we define success then? Money? External validation? Or that internal sense of accomplishment?

So whether it’s running, or creative work, or love, or life, it’s useful to have your own standards… your own values… your own yard sticks… you can’t escape what other people think, but you can choose to decide your own value, your own sense of achievement or self worth, is more than important than what anyone else thinks or says. Or more important than even the shiniest, fanciest bling.

It’s not always easy, but it is possible. And important.

So fuck what they think. Fuck the bling. Just do what you do, and hold yourself accountable. Because at the end of the day, it’s what you think and feel that counts the most.

Be awesome to each other.

Sputnik.