Bad Shoes

I have passed along most of the free pairs of running shoes I accumulated, from sponsored training sessions, to others whose feet are a better fit for them. One pair remained though (not New Balance) and I made sure they were designated gym shoes and would never see the light of day as running shoes. Until yesterday. I got to the trail and found I had left my numero uno pair of New Balance on the deck drying. Ugh! I felt a slight rubbing on the right side of the right foot but disregarded it inconsequential as I wasn't over five miles for the evening. I gasped when I saw my little toe while getting dressed for a gym workout today at noon. A reddish bloody blister.

The numero dos pair of New Balance will find themselves in the trunk of the car tonight and that's where they'll stay, except for when they're on my feet while on the trail. Other than the wrong shoes, the runs on the trail in the heat have been ok. I'm already getting acclimated and the Barton Springs cool-downs at sundown are wonderful.

Wednesday nights I get the added benefit of listening to Blues on the Green, a weekly concert in the park. Traffic is a little hairy and I end up parking down the road which adds another mile to the run but it's not a problem.

White Shoes Before Easter

You see a lot of things. For one, as soon as the first warm front makes it's way across the Colorado River you see two things; your neighbors blowing their leaf debris into their next door neighbor's lawn and two, women wearing white shoes. Clearly the rule states that white shoes and white belts, as belts should match the shoes, should remain in the upper reaches of the closet or in the sucky-sucky bag beneath the king-sized bed until EASTER. Easter being the diving line for wearing white. I don't think there's any dispute here. It's always been the rule so why when I go to the cafeteria today do I clearly see a woman with white shoes on?

I wondered about this as I do each and every year at this time. You know, the time right after the first warm front makes it's way from the Gulf Coast up to Central Texas. I thought it may have been similar to the time my daughter relayed the message from her math teacher that I, "learned it wrong." Ah yes, it's that new, new newest-new math. Even tough I arrive at the same answer in half the time that's not the point. The point is that I must follow the process of the newest math in order to perpetuate the sense of newness which is newest math. New math with which I learned how to go from point A to point B is soooooo old school and not tolerated one bit. And...they're not white shoes, they're the quality or state of the achromatic color of almost greatest lightness. They're new white which is perfectly acceptable before Easter.

Yes, thought so.

BTW, the same woman I saw with the new white shoes I also saw crack open a can of tuna and eat the entire six ounces of fish straight from the can. The rule of eating within the 45-minute window of opportunity post-workout comes into play but still. There's plenty of time to plate the fish. And if she didn't obey the rule of white, why is she in an obvious rush to obey the rule of post-workout consumption? Clearly, an enigma, wrapped in a quandary, and covered in a pre-Easter, snug-fitting riddle.