More About Shoes

Nearly two years ago I wrote about buying a new pair of running shoes. Those crappy things lasted about a month before both sides of both shoes blew out. I took them back and was given only a small portion of my money back towards a new pair. According to Sport Chek, no receipt = no leverage. I gave New Balance another try in case I just got a lemon and I'm glad I did. That replacement pair has finally been replaced because it looked like the original pair. It took a year and a half of 3-4 days a week through mud, dust, snow, over rocks, logs, and pavement. The sides had huge tears and they smelled awful, but until the soles started detaching they were still comfortable for a one hour jaunt in the dark morning.

I bought a new pair exactly the same back in Spring because I figured the old ones were going to disintegrate any day and I wanted to be ready. Those new ones sat in the closet ready for 6 months. I took the new ones out yesterday, so they have a bit of mud on them, but they still look brand new. I'm enthusiastic about seeing how many miles they will cover. 

Who's up? Dog.

I have an all-weather dog. She's all-terrain too. On the one hand, this is awesome because I don't ever have dress her up. Raining? Fur coat. Snowing? Fur coat. Sunny? Sorry pooch, fur coat. On the other hand, it means I have to be an all-weather person. Dark and blowing sleet? I'll get another coat.

I like hiking and trail running, but my enjoyment doesn't ever seem to even approach her level of enthusiasm. While I huff and puff and struggle to maintain forward momentum up the trail, my dog runs way ahead, then back to me again, and off into the underbrush and back up yet again. For every mile I cover, she does at least 4. When we get to the top, or if I stop for a rest, she looks at me like we're going to play-wrestle right away. Somehow my leaning on my knees trying to prevent reverse peristalsis looks like a dog wrestling pose.

For the past few years, I haven't used the snooze button on my alarm. This does not mean getting up is any easier, I just prefer to sleep properly until it is time to stop, instead of inflicting a half hour of disruption on myself to start the day. Of course, while I fumble to find the floor and clothes, that crazy dog is pacing and yawning pointedly and panting at me.

I think she is more excited to get out when it is dark and cold and stormy than on a warm spring morning complete with early sunrise. I'd be lazier and softer if it wasn't for that dog huffing unapologetically at me each and every morning. Even on the days where I'm annoyed to be up so early, I can't stay grumpy for long; watching her bound into the tall grass or tear down the trail at full speed is a picture of pure joy. I suppose I'd start with a little more joy too if I knew I was going to get to go back to sleep for a few more hours when we got back to the house.

This old house

Life builds in expectations. It's hard to see structural expectations when things fall in line the way they are supposed to. Absence reveals structure. You don't see the posts and joists in your house because they are covered up with drywall and paint and carpet. What if the contractors never showed up to install any of that stuff and you moved in anyway?

Our entire life has been built in anticipation of children. We married young, went to university, bought a three bedroom house in a decent neighbourhood close to good schools. We have reliable four doored vehicles, good steady careers, and a dog.

The foundation is good. The roof doesn't leak and the walls are solid, but it's still hard to tell what each room is going supposed to be. You can see from one side all the way across to the other and it echos strangely. Apparently drywall isn't my thing and I can't get a contractor to call me back.

It occurred to me the other day, changing the floor plan at this stage could be pretty easy. Knock down a few walls, add a window here and there, maybe just pick the whole damn thing up and move it on down the road. A few changes to the structure might make the absence into a cool minimalist thing instead of just some unfinished suburban cutout. I'm left with a decision: is redesigning the same as giving up?