I suppose the phone call I got in college from my mother should have been my first clue that I just may have a problem with shoes. She had found a very large bag full of my shoes in my closet. They were shoes from all walks of my high school life. Gym shoes, softball cleats and even my beloved pink converse high tops. As the bag was quite large and I had not lived at home in some time she wondered why I kept this. Did I need it? What did I plan to do with them? The answer to question one was probably not, and question two was I had no idea. One thing I was sure of. They would fit. Not like jeans that may become too tight or shirts that would be too small. Shoes never let me down.
The thought of this bag of shoes occurred to me yesterday as I was discussing appropriate race footwear with my son. I explained to him that although his Rosche Runs are well worn and getting muddy and ruined would not break his heart, it was likely safer for him to have obstacle racing shoes like mine. My Reebock orange, pink and yellow high tech trail shoes. I had a discussion about toe picks and mud drainage technology as it relates to climbing over muddy walls. Ultimately we got a similar pair for him ordered.
Nonetheless, this led to me going into the closet for a survey of my shoes. Yes, I realize stereotypical women love shoes. Seeing the Kardashian's closets, OK, my oldest male child is a fan and forces me to watch, I see dozens of pairs of heels by many famous makers such as Jimmy Choo. The reality is, my shoes are a bit different. My life is lived in three types of outfits. Gym clothes, scrubs and jeans. My shoes match accordingly. Looking at the casual collection I see a couple pairs of Sperry's, one pair clearly not fit for much in the outside world but fit my feet so perfectly I think I have convinced myself the newer pair just will never live up to the hype of the old pair. There is the Ugg mocassin. This is my first upstate New York winter shoe. That year we survived inch after inch of snow wondering if we had actually moved to the North Pole. A note on the Ugg moccasin to the various critics.....they have a sole. So technically they are not a slipper. Plus they were the only shoes I could safely get on after my hip surgery as they required no bending at the waist to tie. Then there are the flip flops. This is the place I dare not even quantify how many I have. Some I wear and some I do not. I look at the black pair of croc flip flops that got me all over Haiti for 3.5 weeks when I was bringing Grace and Alex home. I had no other shoes as I got stuck in country at the end and had to send everything home that I could when my husband had to leave to keep my luggage to a minimum knowing I would have two kids in tow on the way home by myself. I have the patent leather blue pumps that matched my dress perfectly for my high school reunion some years back. Then the perfect orange and red staple shoes I wore to a hospital gala. Yes, I am one to buy the perfect shoe for the perfect dress for a special occasion. I suppose I justify it by telling myself shoes always for no matter what. So if I get the red and orange heeled strappy sandals I will have them in case another awesome dress came along for a different occasion. To be fair I have several pairs of shoes that fall into this category.
This brings me to my collection of Dansko clogs. The hallmark of anyone who works in a hospital. Black, blue, brown and watermarked....each pair representing a different period in my career. Each pair with their own story to tell of lives saved and lives lost and as any emergency medicine person will tell you....given our particular culture each pair screams almost audibly the particular brand of sarcasm we all share in my field.
Then there are gym shoes. Lots and lots of gym shoes. I will say in a general sense I am a Nike girl. Long narrow feet with a high arch make them perfect. Through this journey I have had all kinds. Runners, Frees, custom rosches and currently a hybrid shoe. Each shoe tells a story like a photo album of sorts. Some were rewards to myself for goals met and others purchased out of changing workouts demanding something different. The story of next week's racing shoe probably the best of all. I had wanted to race. I was terrified I could not do it. When I successfully completed the dry tri a year ago I ordered these. Just what I would need for a mud run. I figured if I invested in the shoe it would push me to get there. Many times I have cursed the shoes. Three months of crutches had made me wonder if this was ever going to happen. During that period it was as if they mocked me. Yet today I dust them off and try them on. As always, shoes did not disappoint. A perfect fit. Here we go....a year later. 7 days to go!.
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