Someone has to tell me. Is it weird that I’m this in love with my new running shoes?
About 18 months ago I met my first pair of Brooks shoes. I had Asics and they made my feet hurt. So I went to a shoe store and the guy actually listened to what I had to say (I told him I was training to become a runner so I would be walking and running and let’s be honest, it would be more walking than running but I was dreaming big!) and he dug through the back room and came up with a pair of shoes that made forever brand loyal to Brooks.
Recently I started C25k for a second time to get ready for a Thanksgiving Day 5k. Monday I noticed my feet were starting to hurt. My shoes didn’t look that terrible, but maybe I needed new shoes. I went to an actual shoe store again and they actually watched me walk barefoot (it’s less creepy than it sounds) and then put another Brooks shoe on my foot (it was then that I realized my shoes really were a heaping pile of mess). I loved them! But I tend to love the first thing I try and buy it. I’m never really unhappy, but I should at least try other options, right? I tried three other pairs. The other two Brooks were ok, but not awesome. And the Saucony were just weird and not for me. So I bought the first pair. And I can’t stop thinking about them. The insoles are bright yellow, they have a flame orange arrow on the side, they are clean and new, and they have that new shoe smell. And they are called Defyance. As if to say, I’m overweight and not the fittest I could be, but I’m going to PR at the Thanksgiving 5k, no problem.
I went to the gym today and usually when I buy new shoes and walk into a gym for the first time I think “Man I must look like a tool. Here’s the fat girl walking in with her water and brand new shoes and is going to “work out”. Today I walked into the gym ecstatic to try running in my sweet new kicks and that everyone should admire how awesome and pretty they are. Because today it was “Here’s that thinner girl who’s be running at the gym three times a week (sometimes 1) for almost a year and check out her new shoes.” And that confidence? That my friends, is how a shoe can make you feel like a million bucks.
It’s weird to love these shoes this much, right? Even if it is, I don’t care. They are fabulous.
Hearts and that new sneaker smell
Is it possible that I was born without the part of my brain that can process a captcha phrase? I know I’m human. And yet the computer continues to doubt me. I see the little scramble of letters and think “well, I’m not a computer set up to automatically post cat-lady-crazy-should-be-sitting-in-the-corner-eating-paste-spammy comments, and I can certainly prove it”. Then I type in the little phrase and it says “wrong, fool. You are not human. You haven’t proven it to me.” And then I’m all “internet I hate you and your silly security measures and if I didn’t want to post my hi-LAR-ious comment that will totally make me and this blooger best friends forever, I would walk away. Instead we’re gonna fight it out until you believe I’m human.” and the internet just says “bring it.”
And then one time. At band camp… I mean. uh. haha. Awkward.
But really, one time I was trying to buy Jimmy Buffet tickets for my mom and I and her friend and her friend’s son (who is my age. [Yes I know. We’re in our 20s went with our mothers. But we like our mothers. And inherited our love for Jimmy Buffet from our mothers. And when we bought the jell-o shots from the dude and dudette wandering the parking lot, our mothers did not. So it’s not like we were tied at the hip all night])…I digress. Anyways I was trying to buy the tickets and the captcha phrase spit back at me 5 times! 5! Do you know how fast a Jimmy Buffet concert sells out. Fast. Like faster than a bucket of fried chicken during game night at a Fraternity fast. When I finally proved I was flesh and blood and got through we were stuck in the 150 millionth row (ok, so 135th?). Still. We woke up early and logged in at 10:00:00.00 am (it was Saturday. That’s early. I don’t have kids. Don’t hate) to make sure we got tickets. And that stupid scramble of letters said “No way. not lettin’ you past my messed up text that doesn’t spell anything that blends so well into the background the q looks like a 4.”
I quit captcha. There should be an attachment for my laptop with a little needle that would prick my finger and draw a sample. That’s right internet security demons. Find a computer that can fake Grade A blood to pretend it’s human (literally. My blood is type A. Which makes me a fairly useless blood donor. Though I still donate.) But yes, that’s right. I’d rather give my computer blood than “type the characters in the box below”. Sadly, I think if you want to comment here, you have to type a captcha phrase. If I figure out how to submit a blood sample instead, I’ll let you know.
Hearts and Needle Pricks!
How are you? Actually I shouldn’t ask that. I know how you are. You are in pain. But whose fault is that? Ok. Maybe it’s mine. A but. But let’s have a little chat. You see. Doing the same activities over and over is not good. One, I get bored. And then Mr. Motivation leaves and I’ll never be able to build you up. Two, it doesn’t help you get stronger because you get good at doing those moves. And then you get bored and lazy and the moves are not as effective. So you and I? Well, we mix things up. And I know when I start a brand new routine or introduce something a little radical you need some adjustment time. And that adjustment time usually involves some soreness. But really muscles. Two new exercises last night and you’re all hurty? These exercises are just slight modifications to moves we’ve already made. In fact, one of them was just me being able to do more of them in a row. And yet. And yet? You insist on bringing the pain. It’s not unbearable, just a twinge mostly. But its muscles that let me walk and work at my desk. So it’s just a little ouchy. Every time I move. Yes ouchy. Don’t argue with me muscles. It’s a word. Because it the perfect description of what you’re doing to me right now. And you know what, muscles? I don’t appreciate it. So can you just back off? Let’s just relax and enjoy the rest of today and let the elliptical not totally stink tonight. And get ready to run tomorrow morning. You know it’s coming. Be warned.
Heart’s and heating pads,