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.

New shoes

I bought my first pair of running shoes this weekend. That's not quite right. These are the first running shoes I've paid for myself. I've bought dress shoes, casual shoes, hiking shoes, and climbing shoes for myself, but never running shoes. My last pair was the last pair of shoes my parents bought for me. I was in my first year at college and running like a madman, but giving myself tendonitis by doing so in shoes I'd had since junior high. It was Spring of 2000 when Mom and Dad took me to the mall and bought me proper running shoes. I put hundreds of miles and several races on those shoes in the intervening 13 years. A seam in the instep burst almost immediately, making them much more comfortable, but last week they finally broke beyond repair.

People had been giving me a hard time about my shoes for a while already. Apparently you are supposed to replace running shoes every couple of months or after every third run or some such nonsense. I figure as long as there is still rubber on the bottom and the laces still hold, they are probably fine. The tendonitis didn't come back, so why spend money on shoes I only wear in the dark to run through mud? Rosie doesn't care what's on my feet as long as I take her out every morning.

Minimalist running shoes are the "next big thing," but I think it makes sense. Our bodies are built to run, so why strap pillows to our feet to do it? It just leaves the foot weakened and more susceptible to injury. What doesn't make sense is how much a "minimal" shoe costs. By definition, I bought less shoe, but because it is toxic green and trendy, I still paid the same as a cushy shoe with super duper nano air spring technology. We'll see. I wasn't about to buy those ones with the individual toes. That's just gross. Still, I don't have high hopes of them lasting 13 years, though that did seem a bit much. Five miles in, so far, so good. They were my first pair of shoes to come with a warning that they may cause injury if used too much to start. We'll see.

The Man in the Sky (Watching)

Whenever I consistently exercise, I find myself outside in the dark, sweating into the night, staring at Orion. I'm neither astronomer or astrologist, and I only know two constellations, but I have a favourite.  Growing up in a northern town, he was only visible during the winter months in the southern sky, but now I've moved further south and he sticks around all the time.

My high school years were spent cross-country skiing through the long winters. I trained and raced and traveled and had a grand time doing it. No one was about to have me skipping school to train, so we went after. A mum would pick us up from the school, we'd change in the truck on the way, and we'd still have to ski by headlamps. Some days we'd park the cars strategically and ski up and down the parking lot, other times we'd strap on spelunker's lights and head out on the trails. Later the club was able to string lights along portions of the new trails so we could ski all evening. Skiing with no artificial light and just a full moon to guide your strides is a rare treat.

There was one section of track that led up away from the lake on a gradual slope to wear down your legs a bit, then a corner and a steep short down hill followed immediately by an even steeper up hill. It was a nasty little combination, and the lights didn't shine well to that spot. Many nights I would struggle up that little steep hill, staring at Orion seemingly perched on the snow at the top. The nights I remember best were the really cold ones, when the air sparkled as any humidity still left in it was frozen and slowly drifted to join the snow on the ground. The snow squeaked loudly, and if you spat on the ground, it would bounce, frozen before it landed.

Now I run with Rosie every morning. I plod along for a few miles while she bounds back and forth after rabbits into the underbrush. For a few months in the summer it is light out when we go. The sun even peeks around the mountain before we get back to the car for about three weeks. By September, we are running in the dark. Rosie's Mama bought me a new headlamp for my birthday this year, so she can have hers back. And, sure enough, every morning there is a big enough gap in the clouds that plague this part of the world, there he is, watching me run through the dark trees.

I know the stars have no influence over our lives and vice versa, but I can understand why people once upon a time did think such things. There are so many and they seem so profound. Even if it is all bollocks, it is comforting and inspiring to think of an ancient warrior supervising my training.