That's Not How I Look in My Head: Race Photo Woes

I don’t know what cruel person invented the race picture, but I hope they’re really unphotogenic.

Before my very first 5k, the prospect actually piqued my interest. “I’ll have proof that I ran a race and looked good trying,” I thought. I took special care to pick out what I thought was a cute running outfit for the cold race morning, and after the finish I could barely wait to find the photos.

This is the finish line photo. In my defense, I never did see the person who took this. I was in my own little world.

I look like I may die. Maybe I’ve already died, and my body just hasn’t realized it yet. That's my husband with me, and he doesn't look great either. I was so excited to have finished my first race, and all you get from this picture is that I am running on empty.

As you can imagine, I never posted that one to Facebook.

When I ran that race again the next year, I had lost some weight and hoped for a Facebook-worthy picture. When I finished this race I imagined I was a butt-kicking running machine. I beat my previous year's time by almost 10 minutes.

Here's the photo I ended up with:

My clothes are way too baggy, and I look very angry, fairly close to serial killer mugshot angry. I'll say I look determined here if that makes it any better (which it doesn't). 

Would race pictures look better if we all smiled at the finish? Take this as Exhibit A that they wouldn't be:

This is not an official race photo. This is my sister with a camera, and I knew exactly where she was. I ran this 5k with my mom, and I was so proud of her for doing well that I threw on a smile for the photo. A giant cheesy, dorky smile. 

There are those out there with great race photos. They look amazing whenever and wherever they run. It looks effortless and very photogenic. I will never be that person. The best I can hope for is that when I do get caught on camera, I'm wearing a goofy smile and not the pallor of impending death.