It’s time for new running shoes. I know this because of two things. First, my knees are starting to ache. Which leads to the 2nd: when I checked my mileage on the shoes I’ve been alternating, I’m saw this:
Captain Obvious indicates that my go-tos have been the Cliftons and the Adidas boost (azul).
But I know before I bring a new pair into the house, I’ve got to cull the herd.
Luckily for me, a fellow running club member is collecting gently used shoes for a charity. I think all of these qualify.
But it’s hard to let go. I don’t know why I keep them all. When I’m dressed casually and want to wear sneakers, I pull out my Chuck Taylors, not old running shoes. When I want to do yard work, I wear wellies, not old running shoes. Because, let’s be honest. Old running shoes just look stupid without running clothes. (I will not be that old lady dressed in a nylon track suit about to board a plane. No I will not).
To get these kicks out the door, though, I decided to channel my inner Marie Kondo. I put all my shoes in one place. And I’m going to thank each and every pair for the service and joy they brought me, and then I’m going to let go.
So, Saucony Ride 4s–thank you for the joy of my first half marathon, the PF Chang Rock N Roll in Phoenix in 2012.
And thank you, Adidas Boost for an oh-so-cushy ride for so many miles after my 3rd stress fracture. You got me going again!
And thank you orange Scott shoes for teaching me not to buy online!
And you, Saucony Ride 5s for teaching me that fit is more important than color.
And you K-Swiss, for just being oh-s0-orange, when I needed some orange in my life.
And you, Brooks Pure, for being that good rebound shoe–when you need a break from the same old, same old.
And thanks Adidas Boost Brussels for squelching the anxiety when I though my luggage was gone forever in Europe and I’d never see my running gear again, even though you are too small, you calmed my heart.
But most of all, thank you Mizuno wave sayonaras–finding you was like was like finding that perfect wedding dress. I put you on and instantly knew–you were mine. You would not let me down. Thanks for carrying me to my half marathon PR, and thanks for understanding when I had to take out your insoles to use in the Cliftons (yes, it felt too much like Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree to do that to you, but…the Clifton insoles just sucked, so #sorry,not sorry).
Ok, I think it actually worked. Into the box and off they go!