Get over it. They are just running shoes

The moment you realize you’re vain isn’t a very comfortable one.

For years I was the wild child who refused to let her hair be brushed or tamed in any way. I wore whatever I wanted and didn’t care.

I went to schools with uniforms for 13 years of my life. I didn’t really understand what it was like to have to pick out an outfit or worry if what I was wearing represented ME. That was the point of the uniform.

Now I’m apparently the girl who turns her nose up at solid, comfortable running shoes because they are ugly. I got my first pair of these when I was injured. I wore them with shame. Shame that I was injured and shame that I was wearing running shoes to work. Not even attractive or in style, intentional tennis shoes. These shoes were my burden. I dreamed of wearing my flats, my barefoot running shoes, my bright teal running shoes – anything but these.

I went to the running store this weekend full of hope of moving on. My injury is mostly under control, my mileage is steady, and my big race is just around the corner. I daydreamed of blue shoes, bright colors, and all of the fun I’m going to have in them this fall. It was going to be glorious.

Then I tried on pretty shoe after bright neon shoe, and none of them fit. The vain girl inside of me got mad. Why couldn’t I have bright blue shoes like my brother or the other runners I know? And then it hit me. They are just shoes.

These shoes took me from injury to an amazing trip to Vancouver. They comforted my aching arches and ankles and gave my friends a good laugh. They helped me bond with new coworkers and feel grounded while traveling. These shoes went over horrible miles and helped me run away from one of the most dangerous situations I’ve ever been in. It’s time to be the girl who doesn’t care anymore. Feet happy? Check. Nothing else matters with running shoes.

Life lesson: Get over it. They are just shoes.