Stone Life

For those of you who are consistent readers of this parade of arrogance I call my blog, you know that I generally give off the sense that I know vast amounts about most things (isn't that the point of blogging?), though in reality, I probably know very little about anything. I proved just that last week.

I have been something of an avid runner for better than ten-years, but I have been moderate in my distances until recently. I have always used three or four-miles as my standard, sometimes deviating by upping it a few miles, hardly ever exceeding seven at a time, usually running five or so days a week. This has kept me fit and supplemented basketball and other sports that I enjoy engaging in on a regular basis. This summer I became inspired to challenge myself. Although I had no particular goal in mind, I decided to start "training", upping my mileage and frequency considerably, pushing my body to see of what it might be capable. It has been exhilarating and rewarding, but my body has begun to ache like I had never felt before. Particularly, my back has been throbbing constantly, and I have been unable to sit, stand, sleep...comfortably for awhile.

As I bemoaned my condition to one of the other coaches at my school, he casually made some comment about the shoes I was wearing. Like a ton of bricks, it hit me; I had been running in flats that basically amount to being barefooted! Because I had kept my distances short, there was no problem, but the added pounding and lack of support/cushion was wreaking havoc on my lower back and legs. I am a moron!

Thursday night, Julie and I went to Luke's Locker, a runners-only store in our neighborhood, so that I might be fitted for proper shoes for the workouts in which I am engaging. I was like a kid waiting for Santa; I had never had a professional fit me for shoes. He watched me walk, he had me jog on a mini-track, and then he brought me several different types/brands of shoes and we went through the process of finding the perfect pair. It was really fun, and I ended up with exactly what I was looking for. Before leaving the store, he told me to take it easy for the first few runs, "give your shoes some time to break-in." I nodded, having no intention of following his sissy-advice.

Because we went to dinner, and I ate and drank too much to be useful for the rest of the evening, I waited until the next morning to take them for a test-drive, so to speak. I awoke early and said, "Shoeman be damned!, I am going to give these a thorough testing", and I took off for a lengthy morning jog. At about the farthest point from the apartment, the newness of the shoes became painfully apparent, and I the blisters on the backs of both of my heals were forming nicely. I pushed through despite the pain increasing, sure that it would stop before long, and, lo-and-behold, with several miles left, it subsided to a dull pain that was entirely manageable.

Quite proud of myself for not listening to the pansy at the shoe-store, I arrived back at the house, and slid my shoe off to find that my left sock was soaked thoroughly in blood, and the pristine whiteness of my shoe was replaced with a disturbing dark-red (the picture is a little dark to get the full, gruesome effect). To add insult to injury, Julie and I were in a hurry to get out of town that morning, so I quickly jumped into a warm shower...suffice it to say, I let out a string of very naughty things when the water hit the open wounds on the backs of my feet. Each shower since has been a not-so-gentle reminder that I may, and I stress MAY, not be the smartest man on the planet.

Painful lessoned learned.