I’m the best runner in my town. People constantly come up to me in stores saying “I see you running. You’re amazing”.

How do you know what everybody was thinking?

What town is it?

It's true and I get it because I am in the exact same situation. I run daily all over town so naturally people recognize me and they are impressed with how fast I run.

It's one thing when they mention something to me in stores and stuff, but don't you hate it when they bother you while you are out eating because they want a selfie with you.

It's nice that these beautiful women want to be with you because you are famous, but it's weird too because they don't know you and some just want to be seen with you.

I like the fact that businesses often don't want me to pay, maybe they thinks it's good for their business for people to see me there.

Regular people don't understand, but it's not always great for us to be famous and admired.

It took some time for me to accept being the best looking, physically perfect human being that I am in my town - I can't help that chicks dig me and that they find my lack of underwear or very unusual underwear to be so intoxicating. People will respond to you - when you're hot, you're hot. Just learn to accept these compliments as your burden in life - it's the price we have to pay and should pay it in private, weeping tears of sadness that nobody appreciates our plight.

Accomplished athletes in other sports just don't understand the burden of runners being the most admired and popular of all the athletes.

well done

Move to a bigger town.

good one

The attention started happening almost constantly since I broke 5:00 in the mile at the high school track in front of a bunch of people. It wasn't even in PE class. Everybody thinks I'm going to the Olympics... maybe I will make next time around?

Change your look dramatically, and then run in disguise.

I feel your pain, broseph.

When I blend my top shelf running talents with my dazzling charisma, riveting intellect, inspirational humility, and extraordinary handsomeness it becomes a cross that's almost to great to bear. As I effortlessly take to my heels and fly through the streets, with my tanned, striated, glistening and taut muscles rippling in the sun, I loom over my paltry townsfolk like some sort of God. I stand out like a majestic golden eagle next to an annoying flock of pigeons. I recognize that they cannot help but genuflect whenever I go out in public, and I have to allow them their patronage.

But still, the unrelenting expectations are so extreme. I have to wear the shortest shorts, lace up my shoes just so, wear the tightest mesh tank tops, low socks, and rock those Vibram Five Finger shoes, it's all part of the game.

As a result, I have created an organization for exceptional individuals like us. It is called the Beautiful and Talented Persons Support Group. We meet Tuesday evenings at 8 at the barn outside of town, in order to avoid those pesky paparazzi. Please join us and share your tale of angst and woe.

This is somewhat related, I had a buddy who was an asst coach for a NFL franchise and he gave me sideline passes. When we left thru the stadium where the players leave there was a crowd of women dressed to the T. All just wanting a chance to hook up with a player.

A player could walk out and just choose one. I was stunned

There is a 0% chance this actually happened.

Give me a break. Stop making things up. I've never once had someone tell me that they can't drive 26 miles. Everyone can drive 26 miles.

Yes it's tough being a big fish in a small pond. The expectation placed on your shoulders to bring home Olympic Gold for your country is a yuge responsibility.

Hang in there, you gotta be strong mentally and physically. Not everyone can be as awesome as you. Many of those who are not born for greatness are bound to hero worship you. Take the compliments with grace.

My advice is enjoy the praise while it lasts. Which probably won't be too long. One can only br young, look smooth and jog fast for a certain period of time. You're like a photogenic young woman in her prime. All good things must come to an end.

You're kind of like Louie the vampire. You feel too much. Except you're the running version of Louie the vampire.

I'm not calling BS on the OP because I still get recognized for racing I did decade or two decades ago. For me, it's more like a few times a year when I'm out jogging/skiing/dog walking (not running fast) on the trails rather than in stores, and I appreciate it rather than hate it.

In my case, city of under 300K, and recognition is mainly from a locally popular (up to 1,400 per race), grass roots, family friendly/inexpensive ($2-$3 back in the day) races series—kind of like what I imagine Park Run is, but a local tradition started in the 1960s. It helped that the print newspaper used to not only print the results and do race summary blurbs, they also used to put it on the front of the sports page at least once a season, covered by a journalist and staff photographer.