Certain aspects of running bring me to tears. Sometimes it is the pain of the effort of a long run, a sprint up a hill or an interval run (which also brings the bile up my throat). And sometimes I cry over injuries and the inability to run or at least to run well. The happy tears are rare for me. If I have had a good run I usually celebrate with a naff and old-fashioned fist pump in the privacy of my home.
Today though I found myself in tears at a shoe shop. No, I wasn’t crying over the fact that the service was slow and they couldn’t care less if you had questions or needed help or that there were dozens of other people there, all wanting to buy new runners. (NikeTown – we need to talk). Nope, it was the fact that after waiting for 10 minutes for a pair of size 5.5 Nike Zoom Structure 16s (in teal) to be brought out, I finally was slipping… Screeech – scrap that. Slipping is more for Cinderella and her fancy glass shoe. I am, in fact, struggling to find the perfect word here. Shoving – no, too violent. Ramming – even more violent. I need a word that describes something almost spacey. A feeling of cushions, clouds, of seamless docking. What I am trying to say here is that having my feet in those Nikes felt so good, so, so good, I wanted to cry. They were soft, supportive, cushioned and light. Just like my old ones were, before they died and left me with an injury. I am in love and I can’t wait to go out running. In fact, tomorrow morning at 0515 that is exactly what I will be doing, in these babies: