February 22, 2009

The strangest thing happened during my morning run yesterday. I was jogging along, listening to my iPod and enjoying the blue sky, when suddenly it happened. I realized that I am starting to like running.

It was incredibly cold outside and very windy-- my hands (gloveless...whoops) felt chapped from the cold and my hair was whipping around my face-- but still. I was happy to be running.
Maybe it was a delusional moment caused by the euphoria I felt just to be running in sneakers that fit properly. On Monday, my mom and I went to a store for runners (yup, they let me in) and got officially fitted for a pair. They measured my feet, made me stand and bend and walk so they could watch my feet and see what kind of shoe support I needed.

I had just finished a run in my old old old sneakers from high school (since there was no way I could even walk in the newer but foot-mutilating pair) and I had dutifully bandaged my feet to protect them from the high school sneaks, just in case. But after the run and a shower, turns out the Band-Aids felt no loyalty to my feet and had migrated up to my pants. So as I'm walking away from the shoe guy so he can study my feet, just cracking a joke about how I feel like I'm on a runway, my mom tells me I have a Band-Aid stuck to my pants. How embarassing and icky (any time you find a Band-Aid any place other than covering a wound, it's gross, even if it's your own Band-Aid). Although it did add some credence to the killer-shoe story I had just finished telling the shoe guy.

I tried on a few pairs of shoes that he picked just for me. It's hard to know exactly what you're looking for, since in general sneakers are comfortable right off the bat. It's not like when you try on a pair of heels and know right away that noooooooooo, you cannot possibly wear those for more than 30 seconds without all the tendons in the bottom of your feet snapping. I have also made a promise to myself and others not to choose the new sneakers based on looks. And since I'm not shopping for a sale like I usually would be, I don't have that guideline either. I'm a little lost in running shoe land. So I decide to go with the pair that feels most comfortable and supportive. My mom makes me try them on with my new non-cotton socks (since I've recently learned that cotton socks are a no-no for runners, the cotton traps in moisture and can cause blisters) just to be sure they're comfortable. I try telling her that socks are socks, but apparently that's not so in Mom-world. To humor her, I try the socks on, and the shoes, and although the socks make no difference in how the shoes fit, it's all so comfy it almost makes me want to go for another run. Almost.

So maybe it's the comfort my feet are feeling that makes me enjoy my run. Maybe it's running in the park, which is better than running on a track because you don't have to see how far you have until you're done, in the park you're just running until you decide you don't want to be running anymore. Maybe it's just the fact that of my own free will, I got out of bed and got dressed and went running, and that makes me happy.

I'm going for another run today, and maybe this one will remind me how much I hate running. Maybe I'll love it again. Or maybe it will always be a love/hate relationship, depending on the day and time and place and the mood I'm in. But it's a relationship I'm happy to have.