In honor of Valentine’s Day yesterday, here is a love piece dedicated to my running shoes:
I love running and I love my running shoes. My running shoes have accompanied me through many miles of my life, and provide constant support. In wintertime when the alarm clock goes off before the sun rises, my shoes are the first to greet me.
They joined me on runs through colorful fall foliage and dance on their own as they step on the crackling leaves. In the springtime, they like to stop in front of flower gardens and fresh fruit stands and enjoy running through mud after a rainy day.
Throughout my adult years, my running got more intense, and my shoes carried me through marathons in the white tundra of Antarctica, along the coastlines of Australia, around the cobblestone streets of Europe and through other races in exotic destinations across the globe. They were there to support at the start line, the finish line and every mile in between—again, more than I can say for any man in my life.
When I began competing in triathlons, I would battle it out in the water with thousands of blood-thirsty athletes and fear for my life on the bike while silently chanting “no flat tires, no flat tires.” But every time in every triathlon, as soon as I got to the run, my tired feet brighten up when I quickly slipped on my running shoes.
Each night after a day’s work and I come home to an empty house, I eagerly rip off my heels and lovingly say to my running shoes, “Honey, I’m home.” We’re the perfect match.
If you only get one true love in life, then I must be the luckiest girl in the world because I found two: my pair of running shoes.