I have started reading my half-marathon book, and of course he talked about running shoes right away.
Having run one marathon (and by the way, could I have had more stuff in my hand?), I remember the importance of the running shoe. If you have the wrong shoe, your feet basically fall off and you have to walk around on stumps. I am not even exaggerating. If you have the wrong shoe, you actually fantasize about running on your hands, having a fellow runner grab your legs and you wheelbarrow to the finish line.
Shoes last for about 500 miles. I have no idea how many miles I have on my current shoes (wouldn't it be great if they put little mileage ticker thingamabobs on your running shoe?) (what the Sam Hill word am I trying to come up with? pedometer? ODOMETER! That's it! Oh, thank heavens I thought of it because I'd be a nutbar trying to figure it out all day), but keep in mind I did not buy anything last year, so we know these shoes are at least a year old.
I remember going to Pasadena with Marvin Gardens one year, and we bought running shoes together and then we went to this sweets shop where they have caramel apples covered in all sorts of elaborate things like nuts, dark chocolate, white chocolate, Barbie shoes, M&M's, red-hots, and things of that ilk. It is a good kind of a store.
Anyway, the point is I ended up getting a nut down my windpipe and I choked in public and Marvin got mad at me. I didn't do it to draw attention to myself, but at this point Marvin automatically assumes my every move is calculated to have the spotlight. I am sure he figured after Heimlich-ing me, I'd stand up and shout "Ta-DAAAAAA!" to the room.
So that is the last time I remember buying a running shoe, which I really think was like 2005.
Therefore, I am abandoning my plans with Marvin to go to Rockingham to go bowling, and instead I am going to Albemarle to the running store. Yes, I realize every town around us has an American Idol. I do not know what this means, although I certainly know it does not mean that I am the NEXT….American Idol. Recently I scared my cat to death singing "Climb Every Mountain" in front of him. He wanted to climb every mountain to escape my voice.
The running store in Albemarle is also a vacuum cleaner store. It is called Run and Vac or Vac and Dash or something. The owner is really, really into running, though, and they have a wide selection. It's kind of perfect for me, because I suck at running. Get it? Get the funny vacuum joke I worked in there?
So tomorrow you have June's Adventures in Albemarle to hear about. I know, it's gonna be hard to sleep tonight, isn't it?