Because I am really devoted to running and all things fitness (well, all things that enable me to eat two Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Bar and a Half’s in a row without feeling TOO guilty) I have been running on less than perfect shoes for the past three weeks. I distinctly remember the moment when they died- I was two miles into a six mile hobble when I heard a pop then a faint hissing sound… like a beach ball being deflated. By the time I got home, the shoes looked like they had been run over - I now realise that my (very) pathetic performances on recent runs must have been because of said poorly footwear rather than excesses of TGI’s and McDonalds! Mystery solved.
I must make a brief point here, dear reader- I am not the type of woman who loves to shop. I have two children and the very thought of being in a clothes shop where one (or both of them) could either…
a) get lost inside a clothes rack/ changing room/ toilet
b) pull down a clothes rack/ changing room curtain or
c) (and the most likely) my four year old daughter trying on all of the shoes and make-up- especially the neon pinks then me having to pay for all of the damage…
…fills me with dread! So when my Husband declared that ‘we need to go shopping for running shoes,’ I almost fell wailing and sobbing onto the living room carpet (which is still soaked in dribble after I put my back out during last week’s disastrous 10 mile attempt!) Instead, I nodded bravely and prepared to enter the war zone. As soon as we entered the shop, a horrible, villain of a man (with an acute case of BO) attacked me and made me stand on a black rectangle thing, which immediately turned luminious green. He then told me that I have flat feet! The bloody cheek. When I was little, a ballet teacher told my Mum not to waste money on lessons because I was as flat footed as an elephant- my Mum made me believe that the lady was simply jealous of my grace and technique! All lies!!!! I may actually need counselling.
To add further insult to injury, I had to run on a treadmill… which he programmed to travel far too fast… plus I wasn’t wearing a sports bra (how I don’t have black eyes is a mystery)… there he left me, panting and sweating whilst he and my husband looked at a computer for ages talking about fallen arches and curvature of the spine. When he finally turned the machine off (with very little warning, it’s a good job I was holding on or I might be writing this BLOG from a hospital bed) he spoke in a language that I think was English but needed a medical dictionary to understand. Whilst laughing hysterically at the size of my feet and the length of my toes (which, granted are a little on the long side but there was no need to recommend that I join the circus) he offered me 3 pairs of trainers. I tried two of them on (the third were too ugly to describe… I will have nightmares, honestly.) Then he made me run around the shop whilst he and his cronies (including my husband, who was supposed to be watching the kids…who were having treadmill races at this point) pointed and laughed. After a hot and sweaty hour of being laughed at, made to run too fast and discussed like a lab rat in a scientific investigation, I picked… the prettiest ones! Don’t judge me readers, the men folk had worn me down.
So today’s ten miler was the inaugural run of the pretty trainers and what a revelation it was! Having never before selected trainers on their technical merits (usually I have bought them because they matched my jogging pants/ hoodie/ vest top- you get the picture) I was amazed when they actually did stuff. I have no pain in my left leg- the bridge on the inside of my left shoe sorted that out! My lower back does not ache- the extra padding in the heel and the super tight fastening thingy stopped me from bending too far forward when I ran… I ran 10 miles in under 2 hours and I lived to write the tale! Never mind the half marathon, I’ll be ready for a full marathon by September! Bring it on!
Happy times x