Take A Victory Lap

I remember from my high school track days that the winning team at the end of a meet took a victory lap around the track to commemorate their win. Though I'd never admit to watching NASCAR, my understanding is that the same holds true for winners there. Apparently, huge bottles of champagne, hot women, and flips off of car hoods do as well; though I don't remember those from my track days. Most people, including myself until recently, often resented those running the victory lap as arrogant, show-off snobs who love to rub winning in others' faces. Maybe they are. But I've come to realize just how important it is to allow ourselves, once in a while, to run those victory laps when we win.

Here's the thing: winning is so brief, and the moment is over so quickly. Unless born with exceptional talent, winners work tirelessly to succeed. Hours and days and months and years are spent, grinding, chasing, pushing, all with the goal of a moment of triumph. If you don't take a victory lap, that moment is over, blink, just like that. You'll always know that you won; however, you won't be able to bask in it, enjoy it, and reflect on all it took to succeed.

I just finished up my second Masters degree this week. It feels surreal. After three years of plodding along, of battling fatigue, guilt, British literature, and one professor who must have been high for most of the semester, it's over. Done. My family and I took yesterday to celebrate. The official moniker for the new holiday was "Happy No More Grad School Day!" It was a finish line for all of us. No more doing without Dad for my daughters. No more extra duty for my wife, who patiently and lovingly endured a constantly moody, tired husband committed to his office on evenings and weekends. We had a great day of playing and ice cream treats and even an impromptu water fight to end the day. But I'm not done basking in the victory yet. I want my victory lap.

So I'm going to run it. I'm going to take a week, or perhaps a month, and take one lap around the track. I'm going to reflect on the hours and frustrations of the journey, allowing them to drip off like sweat. On the back stretch I will go a little slower, remembering how I got to the finish line, especially all the people that got me and my family through. Around the final corner I'll start thinking about the next race I'll run and what training it will require. But down the homestretch I'll shove those plans aside and just run, smiling, high-fiving, and finish the lap with hugs, champagne, and a hot wife who hopefully remembers me.

I won't be running to brag or show off, but I will be celebrating this success. I am going to take this in, and I'm not going to feel guilty or conceited because of a lack of false modestly. None of us should feel like we have to apologize for feeling good about winning once in a while. Life has too many losses in it not to mark the victories.

For your next big win, don't forget the victory lap. I'll be sure to clap along with you.