Recently I was glancing through some old photographs I have accumulated over the years. As a runner, I naturally have many shots of me racing, but I also have quite a collection of my fellow road warriors racing and otherwise. While I have taken my share of pictures, there seem to be camera buffs, professional and otherwise, throughout the running community.

I have my favorite race photos as most people do. Sure, my first Boston, although more a portrait of pain than running, rates up there because it is, well, it is Boston. Generally I rate snapshots on the quality of my running form. My best marathon picture hanging on the wall has me in full stride, head up, and looking fast. Now whether I actually ran it that fast is an entirely different story--but I looked fast. Plus, I was wearing a singlet from one of my manufacturers with their logo, so they paid for it. How can you beat a photo that makes you look fast and is free?

My top portrait of running other than a marathon is a tie. The first was during a ten miler a few years back. It was about four miles into the race, and I was feeling good. It was not my form that made this photo so wonderful, although it was good at the time and, as I recall, for another mile or two. Included in the frame were two friends, Ed and Gary, who are much faster than I am; except that on this day at mile four, I was ahead of them. Never mind how the race finished, just know that I have a picture of me ahead of them and leave it at that.

My other best running snapshot is at a 5K. I beat a buddy named Greg by out-kicking him in the final 100 meters. Well, that is not the entire story. Just the week prior, we were dueling it out in a small 5K. Greg had a slight lead, but I thought I could beat him in the last quarter mile. Well, it did not happen. I was a fraction of a second behind him. To make matters worse, he received $50 for his efforts. I got a stale bagel. The next week was a big 5K. We both ran faster, only I beat him this time. Even better, they posted the photo of me passing him online. Everyone who looked up the results saw me beat Greg. I printed a copy to show him, just to rub it in. Then he pulled fifty dollars out of his pocket. I think he had the better deal.

I also have tons of photos of running buddies before and after races. People vary a lot before a race. Some are loose and congenial, while others are focused and more reserved. You sometimes see pre-race shots of folks who will look up and attempt a smile, but a picture always reveals their lack of interest in posing when a race is at hand.

Most of my collection is post-race or at a party. Post-race photos reveal how well a person did compared to their expectations. They may have won their age group, qualified for Boston, or even set a PR, but if they expected to do better, they appear glum. I have a steadfast rule that says if you either win your age group or set a PR, you cannot complain. After all, you beat everybody you were supposed to beat, and/or you ran faster than you have ever run. How can you be upset? The photo always catches that.

Of course, most post-race pictures are filled with smiling faces. In many cases, that is simply because the race is over. Whenever I wonder why more people do not run, I think of how I felt in the last mile of a 10K or halfway through a 50 miler, in other words, in pain. Sometimes it is a dull but incessant pain. Other times it's sharp and jabbing. Golf has no pain, except for the cost. Everyone knows that running is good for you. But when a golfer talks to a runner about all the injuries and sees the pain and agony of his neighbor hitting the wall at mile 20, suddenly running does not seem so healthy. I think race photos somehow hurt the sport in that way.

There is one running-but-not-racing photo that I wish I had taken. I was with my boss years ago on a sales call just outside of downtown in the Midwest. A man was running down the street toward us being pursued by a police officer who had his revolver drawn and pointed at the man. The man turned the corner away from us (whew!) unexpectedly running up on another officer who got out of his car. This burly policeman then introduced the young man to the hood of his car. A photo of that face plant on a police cruiser would have been great. Even better would have been to recruit that guy because he was flying. Instead, we jumped in our car and got out of town.

For runners, the surprises are the prints of folks at parties. Seeing people fully clothed is often a shock compared to them in shorts with a slit up the side and a jog bra. Many runners clean up quite nicely. That is what I love about running. You get to see the person for what they really are. No loose jacket or baggy pants to cover the fat thighs, no make-up or styled hair--for very long, anyway--to cover the imperfections of nature. That is why race photos are truly the accurate depiction of any person. You see them without cover; you see them wince in pain as they struggle to hold pace, and best of all, you see them in their joyous moment as they cross the finish line of their first marathon achieving a goal that may have seemed impossible only a few short months ago.

That is why I love looking at race photos.