This will probably go down as one of the corniest posts of my blogging life, but I just can't resist!
Back in 1998, John talked me into running the Air Force marathon. I started training a couple of months before, running in whatever running shoes I had laying around (I called them "tennis shoes"). About a week before the race, my feet were falling apart, and John convinced me to buy new shoes.
For anyone who has ever run a race, the absolute worst time to buy a new pair of shoes is days before a race. However, I figured my feet couldn't be any worse off in new shoes than they were in my old pair.
We headed to a hoity-toity running shop in Dayton where I was asked more questions about my running style than I knew existed. I think once the salesperson realized that I was completely clueless, he took matters into his own hands, and brought out the shoes he thought would work best for me.
A pair of New Balance running shoes.
They were like nothing I had ever felt. Plenty of room in the toe box, and Comfort City on the bottoms of my feet. They felt as if they were already broken in, and indeed when running my race a week later, I had no problems with them. It was painful, being as poor as we were, to shell over the money for an actual good pair of shoes, but they ended up being worth every penny.
After buying them, I jokingly called them my "nurse shoes" because they were very, very white. I wondered at the time why my feet couldn't fit into the zingier, colorful models of shoes, but no matter. I was comfortable, and I loved to put those shoes on.
I wore those shoes into the ground. Even when they had run past their "miles", I continued to wear them until the pain was just too much and I needed another pair of shoes. I stupidly bought a pair of Nike Airs, solely for the cheap price. They were fine shoes, but I had blisters when running in the marathon the following year.
Still, not wanting to pay the price for a good pair of shoes, I ran several other races in either non-New Balance brands, or cheaper New Balance shoes. The most painful race I can remember was the Salt Lake City half-marathon. I couldn't walk for days after that race because my feet were so torn up.
Fast forward to the summer of 2010 when I broke my ankle. I wore a sandal on my non-broken foot for that summer, but when the cold weather set in, and the orthopedic boot came off, I knew it was time for serious shoes again. My balance was completely gone, and I didn't want to risk breaking my other ankle. When Mark and I headed to Ohio State, I stumbled upon a New Balance store there, and bought what have been the best shoes of my life.
With my broken ankle almost double the size of my non-broken ankle, the sales person was very aware that I needed good shoes. I choke on the price that I paid for those shoes, but again, those shoes have been invaluable.
Since Johannah and I have been exercising daily, I have found that the shoes are done. Anyone who has seriously used any type of running shoes knows what I'm talking about. They come to a point where they just break down and they end up hurting your feet more than helping them. This pain has been going on for almost three months now, but I have resisted buying new shoes. I love my old pair.
(And here's where the corniness comes in.) Those shoes have been my almost constant companions over the past year. Just a couple of hours in my clogs would cause my ankle to swell to double the size and leave me sore and lame the next day. Not my New Balance running shoes. I could walk miles in them with no problems afterwards. They have supported my tenuous steps during therapy and have helped me navigate college visits. They have also been my literal support as I have begun working out. In fact, when I ran those three miles on the anniversary of breaking my ankle, they were the shoes I wore. I love those shoes.
So, today I headed to the New Balance store to find the exact same pair of shoes. While the color has changed with the new season, I bought almost the exact same shoe. The sales lady asked if I wanted to wear them out, and I said "yes" while she carefully packaged up my old shoes in the new box. When I brought them home, I knew I should just pitch them, but I couldn't. Isn't that ridiculous? I even opened the box to show the girls and I had a moment of sentimentality. Those shoes represent the progress I have made in the past year and a half with my ankle.
I took them out of the box and placed them back in my shoe trunk. I don't know how long it will take before I can throw them out, but for now, I have them as a reminder of what I have done and how far I have come.
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| These are my beloved "nurse shoes" |
For anyone who has ever run a race, the absolute worst time to buy a new pair of shoes is days before a race. However, I figured my feet couldn't be any worse off in new shoes than they were in my old pair.
We headed to a hoity-toity running shop in Dayton where I was asked more questions about my running style than I knew existed. I think once the salesperson realized that I was completely clueless, he took matters into his own hands, and brought out the shoes he thought would work best for me.
A pair of New Balance running shoes.
They were like nothing I had ever felt. Plenty of room in the toe box, and Comfort City on the bottoms of my feet. They felt as if they were already broken in, and indeed when running my race a week later, I had no problems with them. It was painful, being as poor as we were, to shell over the money for an actual good pair of shoes, but they ended up being worth every penny.
After buying them, I jokingly called them my "nurse shoes" because they were very, very white. I wondered at the time why my feet couldn't fit into the zingier, colorful models of shoes, but no matter. I was comfortable, and I loved to put those shoes on.
I wore those shoes into the ground. Even when they had run past their "miles", I continued to wear them until the pain was just too much and I needed another pair of shoes. I stupidly bought a pair of Nike Airs, solely for the cheap price. They were fine shoes, but I had blisters when running in the marathon the following year.
Still, not wanting to pay the price for a good pair of shoes, I ran several other races in either non-New Balance brands, or cheaper New Balance shoes. The most painful race I can remember was the Salt Lake City half-marathon. I couldn't walk for days after that race because my feet were so torn up.
Fast forward to the summer of 2010 when I broke my ankle. I wore a sandal on my non-broken foot for that summer, but when the cold weather set in, and the orthopedic boot came off, I knew it was time for serious shoes again. My balance was completely gone, and I didn't want to risk breaking my other ankle. When Mark and I headed to Ohio State, I stumbled upon a New Balance store there, and bought what have been the best shoes of my life.With my broken ankle almost double the size of my non-broken ankle, the sales person was very aware that I needed good shoes. I choke on the price that I paid for those shoes, but again, those shoes have been invaluable.
Since Johannah and I have been exercising daily, I have found that the shoes are done. Anyone who has seriously used any type of running shoes knows what I'm talking about. They come to a point where they just break down and they end up hurting your feet more than helping them. This pain has been going on for almost three months now, but I have resisted buying new shoes. I love my old pair.
(And here's where the corniness comes in.) Those shoes have been my almost constant companions over the past year. Just a couple of hours in my clogs would cause my ankle to swell to double the size and leave me sore and lame the next day. Not my New Balance running shoes. I could walk miles in them with no problems afterwards. They have supported my tenuous steps during therapy and have helped me navigate college visits. They have also been my literal support as I have begun working out. In fact, when I ran those three miles on the anniversary of breaking my ankle, they were the shoes I wore. I love those shoes.
I took them out of the box and placed them back in my shoe trunk. I don't know how long it will take before I can throw them out, but for now, I have them as a reminder of what I have done and how far I have come.
Those sure are nice kicks!
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