"If you got it flaunt it, even if it's just a nice looking bauble,
" my grandmother used to say, but no longer does because she's dead. I try to live by her maxim, and that is why no matter where I go I carry my trophy for winning first place in the 50-54 year old age group at the 2011 Buford Run The Rails 10k
(for beating 5 other runners). It's a small inconvenience, but people really notice me and
seem to want to talk to me more often than they used to prior to 2011. They often touch the trophy without asking my permission, which annoys me, but I understand. Sterilizing it with alcohol wipes when I get home washes away the lingering marks of their sins and eliminates the anxiety that floods my body at the first touch of their yearning, envy-filled fingers. These small violations aside, I believe I've achieved a certain kind of elevated status among family members, the door greeters at the WalMarts around Atlanta, and the monks at the monastery just up the road. If all goes well, it is highly
probable that my trophy and I will wind up in the Shameless Self-Promoter And Master Braggarts Hall Of Fame in Central Falls, Rhode Island. It never hurts to dream.