Why does Brightroom hate me?

When the Brighroom link arrived in my inbox, I clicked on it with a mixture of excitement and dread.

Anyone who’s checked out race photos of themselves is familiar with this feeling. Most of us are inherently vain, so we hope against hope that these pictures will capture us at our hard-core best, or at least  smiling and having a blast,  giving the camera a thumbs-up rather than looking at our watch or spitting.

We all know which side this usually comes down on. Runner’s World’s Mark Remy captures this phenomenon well in his hilarious post, Why Does MarathonFoto Hate Me? He offers examples of his own photos, which he describes as making him look like “a confused, exhausted choking victim.”

I feel his pain. I made a special effort during the National Half Marathon to smile when I passed photographers, as evidenced by a few of my photos, which you can check out here. Clearly, this effort evaporated as the race wore on. Think you’re having a hard day? Check out the last photo of me. I look a little like Napoleon Dynamite taking a big swig of Gatorade after a tough dance session.

A note to Brightoom: I don’t think you hate me– the title is just for funnies.  And I don’t blame you and your talented photographers a bit. These pictures capture reality, in all its spitting, watch-checking, face-making glory. And if I’m being honest, I still check that link with more excitement than dread. It would be cool if I looked like a world champion in a race photo one of these days, but for now, I’ll settle for looking like a middle-of-the-packer having an awesome time.

Any tips for taking a good finish-line photo? Post ’em below.

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3 Comments

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3 responses to “Why does Brightroom hate me?

  1. Courtney

    i think that this one is pretty good
    47909-1562-006

    and MAN… you’re legs look good— in shape, glowing! (and the rest of you, too, of course!)

  2. Marina Blomberg

    You should see the photos they took of me at my triathlons, particularly right out of the water or when I unceremoniously (is there possibly any other way?) fell to the ground dismounting my bike at the end of the middle portion. They are very scary; actually, painful. I thought I was having an exhausting good time until I viewed them from the outside. And then I wanted to call an ambulance. I am glad my mother wasn’t there until the end as she would have yanked me off the course(s)

  3. Mer

    No tips on how to look good, but in commiseration, I offer this: Brightroom took the photos for the last Chesapeake Bay swim I did. I saw the pictures of my friends, and dear husband, all looking like total badasses running out of the bay. Clicked on my own link, super-excited to have my own professional badass photo. I had plans to blow it up and frame it. Seriously.

    Dreams dashed and pooped on.

    It was a really fat chick who, as far as I know, wasn’t me because her cap color was different than mine. I can only assume she blocked the shot. So, I guess I’m saying, at least you got pictures!

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