Growing up it was always difficult for me to throw away old pairs of shoes. After having worn them nearly everyday for a couple years it was like they had become a part of who I was. It's a completely inappropriate sense of attachment. And even still today, I find it hard to throw away shoes even long after their usefulness has past.
This morning I woke up nice and early, and went out for a jog. I did this last weekend too. Around 8:00 I grag myself outside and run a lap around the complex. Well this morning I jogged two laps. I'm not exactly sure why I do this. It certainly is not for the enjoyment, or good burn everyone seems to adore. I don't feel any sort of sense of accomplishment, and wind up hot with a fast beating heart, and incredibly sore legs. And when I finish the first thing I want to do is sit around and do nothing for about an hour. I think the reason I did this the past two weeks is out of guilt, so that I can say at the end of the day I did at least one thing to improve my physical health. That lasts a week, and justifies all the ice-cream and other junk food I eat.
After about the first 10 seconds I noticed my shoes were hurting me. The shoes I was wearing I got sometime in my undergrad years, so they are probably about 5 - 8 years old. The padding has long been rubbed off, and I don't untie them anymore for fear they'd fall to pieces in my hands. But they're clean and the soles are in decent condition so I stick with them. Also I'm stubborn. I don't want to spend money on new running shoes, if I only will use them about 10 times a year at most. So I make do with the ones I have.
Now as I mentioned right away they started hurting me. But I had just started and didn't want to go making excuses to myself for stopping just as soon as I had started, so I sort of changed the way I picked up and put down my feet and kept going. After the first lap I was a bit tired but thought I could pull off another. By the end of the 2nd lap I was definitely ready to quit. Actually about half way through the 2nd lap I was done, but I pushed myself on. Again I have no idea why, probably just sheer stubborness. By this time I was just tired. My feet weren't hurting anymore, although my legs were legitmately tired.
When I made it back up to my apartment I went to take a shower and noticed my socks were stained red in sections. Apparently I had rubbed the skin down to open sores. And both feet had blisters forming on the bottom. These were added to my sores from earlier in the week when I had walked around for too long in my flip flops.
Running is the worst. Maybe all the ice-cream I eat tonight will help me feel better.
2 comments:
Maybe your rich friends can buy you some running shoes. That sounds like a much-needed expenditure.
Oh my, all my friends are poor college students. However, by tearfully playing up my pitiful situation to my Mom, I can get my parents to get me a new pair. Unfortunately I'd probably have to wait till my birthday or Christmas to get them, which would be next winter and long past any fad I have of running once a week.
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