The post went sour
This was going to be a self-deprecating post. It might have been clever, but not entirely on purpose. It was going to be a post about a boy, who by most definitions was now a man, had overcome some obstacles, though not the obstacles to very likely become a winner. The boy was proud, but rather than admit it, he'd announce that he was a winner with a smirk on his face.
"I'm a winner, but..." he'd say. The list of buts wouldn't be long, because the boy's ability to mock himself was limited by his pride. Age-old struggle. Modern-day twist. "I'm a winner, but only in my age group of paying members of my running club. It's probably 10 or 15 people."

The smirk would say "It doesn't matter."

The eyes would tell a different story.

In the seeds of the thought that was going to lead to the self-deprecating post, the boy realized something. He was a winner. He is a winner. Somewhere he thought he heard Dr. Seuss giggling, but he pressed forward with the idea that had been in the seed. Every event, every competition, everything he'd ever been in was about a niche. He was proud when he was the best runner in high school. Heck, he was proud when he was the best runner in his class. Whittle it away and that wasn't 10 to 15 people. Sure, there were 400 people in the class, but he only had 5 teammates his age. If it was ok to be thrilled by being 1 out of 5, then it's ok to be thrilled to be 1 out of 10. Why not relish the victories of a niche? Because before any of us can be best in the world, we have to be best in the room. And then best in the building. Best in the city. The county. The state. The country. The hemisphere. And there's no reason not to relish every step of the way. There's no reason not to take pride in besting those 10 to 15 people. And better yet, though the boy hasn't mastered that lesson nearly as well, there's no reason not to take pride in trying to best those 10 to 15 people. More than winning, it means something to attempt to win. Or even to attempt to best, or just test one self. To be proud to get out and run a 5k in 19:31, a mile in 4:52, 3000 meters in 10:14, another 5k in 17:56, and then 10 miles in 66:04.

Whether those were age-group victories or not, doesn't the attempt and the gratification that came with each race make the boy a winner?

And isn't self-deprecation so much easier to read?