Bibs and turds

Like many other runners, I keep my race bibs. They're a journal of sort, where I record the race details on the back, and the real race details in the condition of the bib (this last Ragnar 180+ mile relay bib is TRASHED). I used to tape them around my kitchen in my last apartment - on top of each other after awhile. Now that I'm residing in the cottage, I thought it would be neat to get a chinese screen-thingy with corkboard to post them on. Luckily, my Mom is an interior designer and found this for me:

It serves a treble purpose. 1) I have a place for all my bibs and awards (except for trophies) that's a little less tacky than taping them around the kitchen; 2) it covers the cats' litter boxes and I giggle every time they politely step behind the screen to do their business; and 3) alerts me when the cat-poop eating pitoodle tries to sneak a cat turd "treat" (ewww - the medals clank and I yell "Gwen - ewwww"). Gwen the turd-eating pitoodle - ewwww

Anyway, I know I'm not alone in this hoarding of bibs. An almost-elite running buddy of mine stacks them on top of each other and records the height, like tracking his children's height over the years. Certain family members think I'm a little race-addicted, but I just love the shiny medals - and my bibs.