“It’s gotta be the shoes! It’s gotta be the shoes!”
No, it WAS the friendliest ref’s whistle known to man but that’s neither here nor there. I did a lot of b-ballin’ back in those years and, although I avoided Nike like any good Pistons fan – and human being, in general - would, I admit to being overly selective about my choice of footwear. Maybe it really was all about the shoes? Why take the chance? I mean, if a celebrity, barely disguised and using a pseudonym, tells me to do something, I normally do it no questions asked. That’s always been my policy. Even if I feel uncomfortable doing what Carlos Danger has asked me to do with that rolling pin.
This shoe-fixation has carried on into running. When I first started as a naïve, newbie runner, I wore Adidas Response (I know, right?) Never mind that I was a bit portly around the midsection and could barely maintain a solid half mile of non-stop running, it had to be the shoes. Certainly wasn’t ME. Nope.
So, off to the specialized running store I went for the expert advice. And so they recommended the Asics GT line. Woooo, I thought I was personally fit with a shoe just for my stride and body type! Little did I know that everyone was running in this, the #1 selling brand. Turns out, that was more like going into Hot Topic, telling them that I have no innate musical discernment and unsure of my sexuality, and happily walking out with a One Direction CD.
It’s been Asics GT-whatever’s for years now. And they’ve been good shoes. I have moonlighted with different brands from time-to-time and, you know what, they’ve all been varying degrees of “good shoes” too. For years, I thought I HAD to run in Asics GT-whatevers or I just couldn’t do my best. Maybe it’s a product of getting older, not liking unexpected things on my lawn, and no longer feeling the tug of misplaced loyalty and trusting fealty.
I recently ran the Dances with Dirt in an old pair of Mizuno’s and I barely noticed any difference in comfort or support. My current pair of Asics have long since expired their Run By date. There’s almost no padding left. I feel almost like a barefoot runner except minus the desperate need for attention and faux enjoyment. I was going to ditch the shoes but my inner cheapskate won out.*
I remembered that several months ago some trusting company had sent me a free pair of Ortholite inserts to try out and review on my blog. (Yeah, how’d that work out for you?) Well, I inserted them into my dead Asics last night. They went in smoothly like a lubed up rolling pin. After a nice tempo six miler, I felt like I was running in brand new shoes. Nice and bouncy and comfortable like a less methy Tigger. I don’t need new shoes now! Maybe I don’t need new shoes ever?
Turns out, it’s gotta be the inserts!** It’s gotta be the Ortholites!
I always new Mars Blackmon was full of shit.
(Were you just Ovaltined? I think you were Ovaltined.)
*If you knew what we spent annually on soccer in this house, you’d guffaw. Loudly.**Take it easy, Carlos.
In the last two months, I’ve completed two races. Will I ever post a race report or photos? Will I ever post again? One can never tell…