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I think those who would forgive her believe that the response is disproportionate, and that the cheating doesn't rate worldwide infamy. I guess I side with runnr_az on this in that what she did is not right but it also isn't very important. But maybe he and I share the same worldview on running and racing, in that in almost all cases racing's value comes from doing the race, not the result. Yes, in the moment I'll do whatever I can to scratch out one higher place in the result, but after the race is done it really doesn't matter if I got 23rd or 123rd. Those that finished faster could have trained harder, trained more, had more experience, had better coaching, had better genetics, or even cheated, but I found that in the end those places don't matter nearly as much as the experience I got, and even if I found out that one or five or twenty people had cheated in the races I've done, it wouldn't have taken away from that experience. I guess if one subscribes to the race-as-life metaphor, where cheating in a race is tantamount to stealing from someone, and how one acts in a race is how one will act in the rest of life, I can see more reasons to get angry, but I think that viewing this as "rupturing the social contract" is a more extreme view, and is entering the area that Hugo was exploring with the Inspector Javert character. Yes, she cheated, yes it's wrong, and yes, she should face consequences, but how much mental energy should we expend in the pursuit and punishment of this cheating? I think I'm almost as disturbed by the obsession with the cheating as by the cheating itself. Maybe this thinking is objectively wrong, but at least for me that's why, if forgiveness means not to ban her from all future events, my impulse is to forgive. |