Happiness in medals

Everyone collects something in their lives; many do it with collectible cards or a football player album. Mostly, children do it, but adults are more extreme. Sometimes, they do it to search for their lost past and collect action figures or difficult-to-solve puzzles; many even collect Lego pieces and build the Death Star. They seek to gather as much as possible and it becomes their passion. The rich also engage in this activity, but on a larger scale, collecting expensive vases, rare sculptures from exotic cultures, or even expensive and rare books for their libraries.

Erick Soda also collected something that made him happy: objects that were scattered throughout his house and filled his soul with joy. When someone entered Erick's house, the first thing they said was, "How is it possible that you have participated in all those competitions?".

Erick was a skinny boy with an athletic build and a carefree air. He liked to participate in any type of sports competition and bring back a souvenir medal that he hung on the walls of his house, from his room to the dining room or living room. He even had to hang them in the clothes closet. Once he had to call a builder, who came surprised by the request the man had made.

"Are you sure you want me to make a room just to hang medals?" the builder asked when he was received by Erick.

"Sure, man. Wasn't I specific enough? Do you know the measurements?" Erick replied.

The builder nodded, still stunned. "But those measurements are for another living room!" exclaimed the man, still thinking Erick was crazy. So he got another room where he could continue hanging his medals.

Erick's love for collecting medals began when he was 10 years old. It was in his first 5 km race competition. He still remembered that his father had forced him to participate because he was a chubby boy.

"But why do I have to run like a maniac?" Erick had expressed, annoyed by the sun and having to wake up so early for that competition.

They hadn't even trained, but his father, who was also an obese man who wanted to lose weight, had been warned by his doctor that if he didn't exercise, he could suffer a heart attack. So he had dragged his son to that competition without either of them having trained. A little crazy, Erick thought afterward, but it served to make him addicted to winning medals.

Erick was not the first or the last to arrive, but as a 10-year-old boy, the 5 km seemed endless to him. Sweat dripped in large quantities on the ground and he could barely lift his feet, so throughout the course, he looked pitiful dragging his legs on the pavement. However, when he arrived behind many people, almost crying, they gave him the medal and the beautiful girl who gave it to him also gave him a strawberry kiss that erased the suffering from his face.

He realized that he had finished running 5 km and had been rewarded. That couldn't be so bad. Meanwhile, his father couldn't even reach the finish line; he was 2 km away from being treated for heat stroke.

The chubby boy kept running, but this time training every morning and sometimes in the afternoon. The most important thing is that he kept collecting medals. The satisfaction of obtaining a medal without being the first made him euphoric. The truth is that he enjoyed facing the challenge. The 5 km became 10 and then 20 until he reached 42 km. And he didn't stop there, but the numbers went up. He did an ultramarathon and ran about 100 km.

That was a real challenge because he felt the same way he did in the 5 km of his childhood. His legs were heavy and he was sweating profusely. He reached the finish line with bleeding feet and almost fainting, but he made it and obtained his rare ultra marathon medal.

"Why do you limit yourself to just running, my son? Why not try cycling?" his father said while massaging his son's legs.

"Excellent idea, Dad!" shouted Erick, almost jumping out of his chair, forgetting the pain in his legs. "But why just cycling if there are so many more sports?"

That was when our young athlete leaned towards other disciplines. He was in cycling, triathlon, swimming, and climbing. He ran in the middle of a snowstorm or a vertical race, he was in climbing competitions, and even surfed the riskiest waves in the world.

So, Erick filled his house with medals. He never won a trophy or came in first place. His triumph was to overcome each of those challenges and prove to himself that he could do them. He never forgot those medals; every moment he could, he sat and contemplated one, remembering those beautiful moments and, above all, the pain he suffered to win them.

When asked what made him happy about collecting medals, he replied with a crazy smile:

"I am happy being a crazy person, and crazy people don't have a specific reason! We only know that it fills us, and if you ask me what fills me, it's my soul, silly."