That, folks, is the sound of a certain blogger/runner enjoying new shoe smell. I have less than 6 hours to wrap up this enjoyment. After 6:00, the act of sniffing my running shoes will take a decidedly creepy turn. Are you smelling…used running shoes? Um…uh…no! I was just looking at the insole…at 3x zoom. Yeah, that’s it.
As you’ve surely guessed, I’ve acquired myself a shiny new pair of shoes, and they’re currently sitting on my desk so I can enjoy them in that oh-so-rare, pristine, fresh-from-the-box condition. Why? Because I bought them on my lunch break. WHY? Because I thought my co-workers would just looooove to see them. WHY? Because I’m obsessed, ok! Obsessed. There’s no logical reason for these shoes to be sitting on my desk…or for me to text photos of them to my mom and brother.
I just like my shoes. It’s a fairly established “girl thing” to be obsessed with shoes, so this isn’t too strange. My shoe obsession, however, is limited to the “running” variety. I have a strictly practical relationship with the rest of my running attire—socks, shorts, shirts, and the rest are just part of the equation to get me on the roads. Shoes, however, are more like friends. When they’re comfy and cushiony and basically an extension of (and protection for) my feet, we’re BFF. If they rub blisters during the “breaking in” stage or sometime randomly throughout our relationship, it’s uncomfortable but not unexpected. Most relationships have their ups and downs. And if they pass reek on the way to stank after one too many rainy runs, you remember all the good times you’ve had and continue to offer loyal friendship, because everybody has their flaws. And when it’s time to get rid of them…um…well….
Ok. I seem to be having some trouble getting away from “creepy” today. That metaphor just crashed and burned. I’m certainly not recommending that anyone recycle their friends or let Nike turn them into a surface for playgrounds.
Suffice to say, I like my shoes. A lot.
(1,914 products in the PB recall.)