Saturday, March 3, 2012

Lesson 129: Run for Your Life!

It's my birthday today so I get to pick out the treat of my choosing.  I am headed here, Erieites, to Achilles Running Shop out on West 12th Street for a new pair of Sneakers.  Yes, I still call them Sneakers, but I did give them a capital S because they have risen to a new level of importance to me.  I picked up outdoor running within the last year and proper footwear is the key to foot preservation.

This is what was beginning to happen to my feet.  During my pregnancy with Sam (and the Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia that led me to a 50 pound weight gain), I think my weight became too much for my old feet to hold up.  I started killing my toes one by one.  I developed a neuroma that hurt like a *$&$^ (dickens) and then my second toe in, developed a mind of its own.  A "wayward-sole", I call it.  Visions of my dear sweet Grandma, "Grandma O" and her gnarly feet began to haunt me.  I needed to investigate this a little further.

I found out it was a neruoma of some sort, and I was not the only one to have it.  Rocker Steven Tyler also has a foot nearly identical to mine.  Ever the unpredictable Steven is, he whipped off his shoe and sock on a recent Oprah interview on her new show Oprah's Next Chapter (which receives a thumbs up from Eloise), to reveal this:

Here is his right foot, red toenail polish and all.  The first picture is a photo of him playing in his "backyard" which is Lake Sunapee in New Hampshire.  An unlikely abode for a rocker with a sordid past.  If you come across a rerun of that interview, it's worth a watch.  Very interesting.  Rather than take care of the problem, Steven numbed the pain with a few substances Eloise does not dabble in.  I decided to take the higher ground on my foot pain and drop some weight to take the pressure of my feet.

I also bought these lovely things called Running Toe Shoes.  This is a photo of me on the Huskies' Track.  They don't offer enough support for me for running, but I do run the stadium steps with them.  The treads seem to be extra sticky and do well on those slick silver stadium seats (that is an example of an alliteration, PSSA Prep students).  I wear them around my house mostly.  Sometimes I forget I have them on and make a run to the store or something where it is inevitable that someone will notice and ask me about my "Aqua Man Shoes."

They sell the toe shoes at Achilles, but today I am after a pair of running shoes.  I got my last pair six months ago on Labor Day weekend, and have since put over 500 miles on them.  This is my last pair that I will retire today.  Not really retire, recycle is a better word.  They will become my every day, wear-around shoes.  I do that with shoes and jeans--they live out in a life cycle of sorts.  Good footwear is one of those live and learn type things that you only begin to appreciate with age.  For the rest of my life I'm getting new treads on March 3rd and Labor Day weekend.  So today I will feel like a princess out at Achilles getting fitted for my new slippers.  Can't wait.

I am a far cry from Cinderella when I run though.  Cinderella dressed in rags, perhaps.  This is my shadow as I was headed out for a summer run.  And no, that isn't all my fanny---it's my fanny pack that I strap on every time I go out.  It contains all of my high maintenance accessories like Kleenex, my ID badge (as per Heather Cass's suggestion), cell phone, gum, and dog biscuits.  Got to make friends with the ferocious frothing farm dogs (another alliteration, students).  Beginning in November I start running in my Dad's flame orange hunting vest.  I prefer to run in the woods or on the back roads and I want to make sure my life isn't going to end because I look like another Disney character--Bambi.  And if you think that's bad---it's all about to get a little worse.

I'm not much for paying money to strap on a number and register for races like my sister Kenyan Karen is.  I could care less about improving my time or knowing what my pace is.  I loathe port a potties and I really don't like crowds--especially crowds of sweaty people waiting to use port a potties.  On the few races a year I register for, it is usually a 5K with my daughters and I register under the name of a former US President.  I prefer my anonymity and it helps me keep track of the races we've done together.

The next one I am James Madison.  I'll be glad to get to get that race over with.  He doesn't look like a real fun guy.

But if you watched the above video, you have now realized that things are about to get even worse.  My friend Heather Cass who writes the Erie Runner's Notes for recommended (tongue in cheek) her readers to check this out.  I checked on her facebook post today and see that I am still the only one who responded to this.  This is SOOO me.  I simply cannot wait to try this game.

  So now, instead of seeing Eloise running in a flame orange 1977 hunting vest with a fistful of dog biscuits, I will also be running for my life---from Zombies!  That app is going on my iPod today and I will report back to you to let you know how it is (and how much of a fool I look like).

Slam, click, brrrrrppppp.  Did you hear that?  That is the sound of my sister Kenyan Karen slamming her door, clicking the lock, and pulling down the shades.  I am sure she'll want no part of this.  The chick doesn't even run with music.  Heck, I guess when you run a 5K in 20 minutes, who needs tunes?    I'll be running solo for awhile, but if you are just weird enough to try this with me, give me a ring and we can flee the zombies together.

Run On, My Friends.  Run on.

No comments: