I've saved every race bib I've ever run in, and when I had cause to open that box the other night I was surprised to remember races I'd forgotten, and to see bibs whose provenance I couldn't place. The medals are much easier: far fewer of them, designed to be identifiable, and most are pretty to look at and have a pleasant weight when you hold them in the palm of your hand.
Also this week, I donated a pair of shoes that were with me through my single best year yet of running. I trained for and ran two marathons and a few halfs in this pair of Asics, including a PR and a lot miles thinking about Antarctica. I ran in them far past their lifespan, and started to think of them disparagingly as overused and dead toward the end. But this morning when I tossed them in the donation bin, I had to take a moment of anthropomorphized appreciation for all miles I asked of them, and all the adventures they gave me.
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