Running shoes are ugly

Chris and I started the couch-to-5k program last week.  It was my idea at first, but Chris was a good sport.  It starts with a 5 minute walk, followed by a 2 minute jog, followed by a 5 minute walk.  Slowly, you add a minute at a time and build your endurance.  We both enjoyed our first day.  Our second run out, still at only 2 minutes for that run, I thought I was going to die.  One minute in, I was wheezing and complaining of shin splints.  Chris assures me it is not possible to have shin splints from a 2 minute run unless I'm hiding a couple hundred pounds somewhere.  My shins insist he's wrong, but whatever.  Suffice to say, Chris liked our second run a whole lot better than I did.  In fact, he loved it.  He can't wait to run a 5k.  He insisted that my shoes were the things holding me back.  I think my ice cream consumption has more to do with it, but again, whatever.

My last pair of tennis shoes were purchased 9 years ago.  I bought a pair of Skechers.  Comfy shoes.  They have held up pretty well, but the fabric has worn through to plastic that rubs against my Achilles tendon and they are definitely NOT running shoes.

So we went shopping.

Oh. My.

Sweet baby elephants, those things are ugly!  Every pair had nylon netting on them.  EVERY pair.  Do you remember fishnet shirts from the 80's?  They were like a combination of this:

and this:

Disturbing, right?  And what do they both have in common?  Men's nipples.  Even as a child, I knew this was wrong, wrong, wrong.  Yet, back in the '80's, you couldn't watch a basketball game in the park without spotting male nipplage.  And that's all I could see when Chris showed me my shoe options.  DOZENS of shoes bringing to mind nipple-nightmares.  It's all I could see.

He held up a nice navy pair.  "No, it makes me think of man-nipples."

How about this pink and grey pair? "Hey! My favorite color combination!.....in nineteen eighty FIVE.  And I still see nipples."

Here's an understated beige pair, he offered.  "Crocodile Dundee nipples."

He sighed.  We then decided I should stop looking at the shoes and just choose a pair for comfort.  So I stared at the ceiling and let Chris put ugly shoes on my feet. I never peeked, for fear I would be swayed by appearance rather than comfort. The first pair felt heavenly.  The second pair felt almost heavenly.  We tried on a dozen different shoes and the last pair was really, really close to heavenly.  I caught a glimpse (accidentally) and they were the first pair I'd seen without nylon netting.  I asked to see the heavenly pair.  Nipples.  I was very torn.  Not-terrible greys and blues or brown nipple netting?  I opted for comfort and we headed to the counter with the first pair I had tried on.  Such a patient man.

I opened the box one more time just as Chris finished paying for the shoes.  "Wait....is that gold Lamé ?!?"

Oh, yeah.  Golden shoes.  They had looked brown in another light.  But no.  They were gold.

"I can't.  I'm sorry.  I just can't."

So I they canceled the order and I went back for the almost heavenly shoes.

But at the counter, I faltered again.  I don't like either pair.  Does it make a difference?  I was torn.  Chris was amazingly patient.  He insisted, "If you don't like them, it's okay."  Yeah, but I don't like running either, so what difference does it make?

I bought the golden shoes.

The next day was a running day.  I made it to three minutes and I didn't die.  I thought I might, but I didn't.  And I didn't get shin splints.  So the shoes are growing on me.

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