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We’ve come a long way, baby
By Bethany J. Royer
Mother of the Munchkins
Being a pedestrian in Ohio during the winter is a precarious venture in
a car-driven society. What normally takes me less than an hour to walk
took 90 some minutes Monday as I ice-skated my way through the
park.
The melt over the weekend and subsequent cold temps overnight left most
sidewalks slick. Not that I’m really complaining, it made for quite a
workout, and I’m sure it gave someone a good laugh. Cause I’m lousy in
terms of balance and was certain I’d slide all the way down Memorial
hill, along the sidewalk, directly to the bridge on my butt.
However, my running shoes and I prevailed, much to our cold and wet
chagrin when all was said and done. For as I later discovered the
padding has started to come off the bottom of my right shoe.
Bummer
My running shoes and I have been through a lot. I bought them a month
after my grandmother died in October 2009 with the mind-set that by
summer I’d be running like a gazelle. This was a gift to me, to get my
health back on track, and burn off plenty of angst.
To say my running shoes have been there for me is an understatement.
They have carried my body at its absolute heaviest and unhealthiest
back to almost my goal weight, (Almost there!) and the best health I’ve
had in nearly four years.
They’ve carried me through many frustrated runs on the treadmill as I
labored to force muscles that had once been attuned to mile upon mile
of bicycle riding in the far past, but hadn’t been utilized in years,
back into balance.
They’ve carried me around the high school track at a miserable and
embarrassing pace earlier this summer, and supported me through
multiple trips in the park in both good and bad weather. Until the day
finally came when they carried me as I actually ran mile upon mile with
a mind furious at work over what was next in store in my life as a
newly single mother of two.
There has been many a time that I have glanced down as I either walked
or ran and speculated about where next these shoes would take me. What
was next in store for us and was I yet strong enough for the challenge.
Of course, I also worried endlessly about how much time the running
shoes and I still had together. As I did the other day when I noted how
cold and wet my right foot was once I returned home.
Is it wrong to write a love letter to your running shoes? To thank them
for having endured so many trials and tribulations as they have for
well over a year?
I know I have certainly got my money’s worth as I look over the
scrapes, worn tread, and tired laces. Signs of having been
well-traveled and well-loved, much like a suitcase covered in stickers
from around the world.
I realize I’ve worn them longer than most other runners would have, put
far more mileage on them to the possible precariousness of the health
of my feet or back, but I really love these shoes.
We’ve come a long way, baby.
The mother of two
munchkins, Bethany J. Royer is an independent contractor and writer
currently studying psychology with Florida Institute of
Technology. She has been published in Divorce Magazine and the
Garden Island newspaper and is actively seeking a publisher for her
first completed novel and blogs prolifically at motherofthemunchkins.blogspot.com.
She can be reached at themotherofthemunchkins@yahoo.com.
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