Shoes!

My favorite running shoes are past their prime. They're the Brett Favre of my running shoes. They still work, they still can perform, and they want to be out there, but the potential downside is just too low. Favre throws too many interceptions and crushes the dreams of his team's fans. My shoes will just hurt my feet. And as an oft-injured runner, I want to do everything I can do to stay off the injured reserve list.

And actually, the comparison isn't fair, because I loved my shoes. I never even liked Favre except for in "There's Something About Mary." But that's another issue entirely.

I have other shoes in my closet, of course. All of us do. But this particular pair just fit me right. I liked the way they looked and felt, and they had worn in perfectly to match my stride. Last night I ran in a practically new pair of shoes. Same brand. Same color. Slightly different shoe. I hated them. They have been on the shelf waiting for a chance to be on the team, and I gave them a shot. But it just wasn't the same, like when my parents tried to replace my dead hamster with a new hamster from the pet store like I wouldn't notice. Still a hamster, but not my beloved pet. You get the picture.*

So now I am faced with a serious challenge. I need to start restocking the shoe closet, and the variables are overwhelming me.

First there is cost. Until Brooks  - THE BEST SHOE MAKER ON THE PLANET AND A WONDERFUL COMPANY FROM THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST - decides to sponsor the Real Running team, I have to pay retail for my shoes. Retail! I know, you feel my pain. And I don't know if you have looked lately, but running shoes aren't free anymore. This is a serious investment. I walked right past the coffee shop today and kept my two bucks. If I do that for 50 more days, I got me some new shoes!

Second is the issue of "versions." Here at Real Running we moonlight as college teachers and have to deal with the textbook industry. Every two weeks they have a "new edition" of a text that changes 6 words in Chapter 7 that the students have to pay $130 for. I feel bad for the students and all, but the real issue is that we are comfortable with the OLD edition. It's dog-eared and annotated, and we know where everything is. The new edition isn't quite the same. So when a new shoe hits the market, it is inevitably a slightly different, ostensibly better, version of the old shoe. I would run down to the store right now and buy an exact replacement of my trusty BROOKS shoes if they existed. But in the time it has taken me to put 400 miles on the two pair I already owned, two new versions have come out. I'm two editions behind! Ack.

Finally there is the style issue. As I get older shoes seem to get fancier. Ok, ok, it's possible that I am getting more boring. But I think it's the shoes getting too fancy. I look at the wall of shoes and I just can't see any of them living at the end of my legs for 400 miles. Add to that the fact that they are bright and flashy and clean, and I have a problem. I don't want people's eyes drawn to me when I run. I want to run invisibly. Those new shoes are going to call too much attention to me. I wish BROOKS and their less cool competitors would make pre-dirtied but unused shoes. They'd have all the spring and rebound of brand new shoes, would smell like new shoes, and would fit like new shoes, but they'd look used. I'm a genius.


So Real Runners, what is a shopper to do? When I find my next perfect shoe should I just buy 5 pair of them? Should I replace my shoes more often to get over my other issues? Should I do what Cap'n Ron has done and go shoeless?

Help me out here.

And to the good folks at Brooks Running, I can send you my shipping address if you need it.


*I have never actually owned a hamster. And my parents would never have tried to pull the old "pet switch" on me. They would have said, "Your rat died." Anyway, this is just here as a nice little metaphor. I've been told you're supposed to use metaphors.