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I Run, Therefore I Have Shoes

November 14, 2009


I was watching four guys play soccer today on the Wish Field at DePaul. I was standing on the “L” platform at Fullerton, waiting forever for the train to arrive. One guy was the goalie, the other three were kicking the ball in many directions. They all had on white t-shirts and black shorts but one of them was not wearing shoes. He was playing as well as the others, yet his feet were naked. Why would he not wear shoes? I had nothing to do but to observe them and debate this puzzlement. The only possible explanation, I concluded, was that he was from out of town. He was stranded in Chicago after a night of clubbing. The girl he came with took off with the car. He ended up sharing a cab with some DePaul students. He borrowed their clothes but wearing their shoes was out of the question. Wearing the sticky boots he had on last night was unthinkable either. He is a man of solid convictions, like mine. I would not run in someone else’s shoes. My running shoes are the only items in my wardrobe that have rules and regulations. I had a hole forming in the padding of my right shoe but I kept using them, because I believe that the shoes you train in are the shoes you should wear in the race. Unless you want funky weird stuff happening. Like slipping on a banana, or running out of Gatorade, or the chip timing system not recording your time. For two weeks before the race, I examined my shoes every morning and obsessed about their mileage and if they could hold up against my pushy little toe. Now that the race had passed I still wear them, but no longer experience anxiety attacks. There was a girl in front of me at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon who ran in these swanky FiveFingers shoes. At first I admired her for wanting to be closer to the center of the Earth. But later, as we ran over the lacy iron bridges downtown and the gravel road on the south side, I thought she was crazy. Yesterday I went out on a date with my less-than-perfect shoes to celebrate the end of my post-race recovery era. It was four miles of pure fun. The night was breezy, the music was loud, and I did not care about time. Getting together with my shoes was pretty awesome! We should do it again soon.





Art: Light Sneakers, by Dorian Martínez, available under Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative license

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Michelle permalink
    November 17, 2009 12:53 PM

    Love it and you are now bookmarked!

  2. November 17, 2009 1:01 PM

    Bookmarked… I love this word… It gives me happy chills. Thanks Michelle!

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