Friday Flush—Pride

I went into a fancy pants running store today. I’ve been avoiding them like lima beans, to borrow an image from my friend Kristin*. Yeah, yeah. I know. I can hear you from Tulsa. It’s just a shoe store, that specializes in shoes for people who do the same thing I do: run.

Laugh if you want. These kinds of places intimidate me more than they really should. But in my mind, they are peopled with lots of lean, tan muscle, not to mention swiftness and expertise. I have long felt that meandering into a running store would be like walking into a costume party to discover I am the only one wearing a costume. I assumed I didn’t belong there and that it would be painfully obvious to any passersby.

But I have these sore muscles, you see, and these old shoes, and this one spot in my heel that kind of bugs when I’m done running. I needed a new pair of shoes. Normally I’d just go pick the cheapest un-ugly ones I could find. I had been prompted, chided really, by some friendly voices, to go get “fitted” for shoes. I rolled my eyes at the thought, feigning far too much coolness to ever need to bother with such nonsense. But again, back to the heel pain, the sore calves, the old shoes. Not to mention the fact that I’ve been running for over a year and the blush is yet to fade from the rose on the affair. I decided I was worth it. I was worth the time to get “fitted,” to pay the extra dollars, to put aside my pride and ask someone who knows something for help.

Yeah yeah. Now I know I can hear you—gasping in disbelief. I’ve written about my disdain of advice before.

It took me a week to prepare myself to get new shoes. I had to psych myself up to meander into the running store and announce my intention to buy new shoes. To put myself at the mercy of someone else. Guess what? It was pretty cool. I learned some stuff. I tried on a bunch of different shoes. I really like what I decided to get.

So it took me a while. So I had to gear up for it. So I had to dismantle the heavy cloak of pride. but I’ve got a bunch of miles to run, and I don’t have the time for that anymore.

How about you? What are you getting rid of, flushing away, casting off this week so you can run faster, farther, higher?

*Kristin’s post asks some thoughtful questions about the problem of hate. You need to go read what she and her commenters say. Them’s smart ones over there.