Poo Stuck to My Shoe 3


I’m kind of a big deal. I know this because Klout tells me so, and I have this mug. We all know that if the Internet says I have a vast reach, touching the lives of tens, and my mug confirms it, then it must be true. I got this screen cleaner thing as a Klout perk. It took me my reading glasses, my husband and a good five minutes to figure out its, um, genius. So, it’s a sticker with a “microfiber” face. The sticky part allegedly lasts through “thousands” of applications to the back of any phone.

Ok. So it was emblazoned with some TV show? Sure, it is tiny and has the texture of something kind of unintentionally rubbery. But it was my free Klout perk. I earned that thing. (which is to say, I berate people into talking to me on twitter too often). So, I dutifully applied it to my phone. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

And then I tried to jam said smartphone into the very cool and athletic arm band for a run. Countless picking at the sticker in my attempts to understand it made it ever so slightly less sticky, and so it peeled a bit. Again and again as I fiddled with the phone during my run. Eventually, one half day into possessing my I perk, I removed the sticker.

admit it. I littered. I feel badly about it. I justified it though; if I were running a race, I’d toss my little gu pack on the ground, (which also makes me feel like a horrible citizen, for about ten seconds). I kept running, but noticed my right foot sticking to the ground; a quick glance revealed that the sticker finally stuck. To my shoe. Twice I tried to get rid of it. Twice it stuck to my foot. Eventually, I was able to toss it into the grass and leave it far behind. (I’m totally picking it up on my next run.)

I laughed. At my silliness, yes. Also at the persistence of the stuff that sticks to us, unwanted and unwittingly. My book is about how running helped me scrape off some (internal, metaphoric) poo. Thing about poo is, there’s always more. If I thought simply running a few races, even writing a book about my little running life would rid me forever of poo, well, that would make me pretty naive.

The sticker on my shoe was a reminder. “Pay attention,” it seemed to say. “Remember all that hard work you did? Keep doing it.”

It’s easy to think we only get one chance to learn a lesson. It’s not difficult to think we’ll only endure one hard thing, one at a time. It’s also naive. Seeing that sticker stuck on my shoe was like finding a long lost love note. Maybe one I had written to myself. Poo is powerful, but so is the work we do to get rid of it. Whatever that work is.

What is stuck to your shoe?


Today, on my run, I picked up the trash. I feel much better now.