Talk about your running shoes. In fact, my very first post on this blog was when I bought a new pair. Huh.
You can conjure up more of a debate about shoes than you can about Obama/Clinton or Red Sox/Yankees (Sox, of course!). When I started running, I went to message boards/blogs and asked about what type of shoes I should buy. I posted my running type, budget, etc. and just got bombarded with responses.
There were three common threads in the discussion:
- Go to a specialty running store to get fitted properly.
- Different shoes for different folks. Just because I love my (insert brand), doesn't mean you will. You have to try them on.
- Your shoes suck. Mine are the best.
Different shoes for different folks. I know that. In order to find the best shoe for me, I have to try them on. Does that stop me from reading Runners World reviews or Amazon.com ratings ad nauseum? Absolutely not. I can spend hours on confusing myself with too many opinions about footwear.
No matter what type of shoes I buy, someone hates them. "They hurt my feet." "I returned them that day." "Even my dog won't chew on them." I've noticed that runners are exceptionally passionate about their shoes (once they've found ones they like) and they're not afraid to: a) gush profusely as though they were next of kin. b) tell you how much they don't like allll the other shoes out there. It's a very strange phenomenon. I've been playing golf for the majority of my life. At no point have I ever felt so strongly about the clubs in my bag, my shoes, golf balls, etc. OK, maybe golf balls. I'm not hitting Pro Staffs, Pinnacles, or Rams. You get my point.
So, I bought a new pair yesterday, gave them a spin, and I think I may have found "the shoe". The guys at the store were stunned. It's quite possibly the most comfortable shoe that I've found on the shelf. I'm beating myself up for the fact that I've spent all this time during my very short running career plodding along in my other shoes. It's like running on pillows with traction. My running life is now complete.
And I'm not telling you what I bought.