New Shoes And Running In The Rain

I confess, I'm an addicted, dedicated runner. I used to be in denial, telling myself that I could quit any time. Unfortunately, I now have proof of my problem.

My feet and legs were starting to ache a little bit after runs. Recognizing the signs, I knew it must be time to replace my current running shoes. To be sure I had to check with my running log. I fire up the my spreadsheet, sum up the distance column and I find out I've put in 1384 kilometres in my old New Balance 801's. I guess, it's time to retire these old faithfuls from pavement pounding. Too bad the manufacturer changed the style shortly after I bought this pair of road warriors, so I can't do a no-brainer and replace them with the same make and model.

Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I have a heck of a time getting shoes that fit my funny shaped feet. They are too narrow at the heel, too high in the arch and too wide through the toes. I look forward to shopping for new shoes as much as I do a trip to the dental hygienist. I'm relatively new to this running thing so I've only had go through this ritual four or five times, so far.

Because of these experiences, I'm leaning towards the school of thought that says when you find the "right" pair of shoes, buy not one, but two or three pairs. The only problem is that you never know just how a pair of shoes will work out until you've put fifty or so kilometres on them. I'm not sure if the body adjusts to the shoes or the shoes adjust to the body. I have tossed a perfectly good pair of Brooks Cheetah's that felt good when I bought them but left me aching after anything longer than 10k. I wish this part of our sport were easier.

I grit my teeth, hit the ol' credit union for some ready cash and after work, head to the store to try my luck.

I have been in and out of "Foot Tools" three or four times checking out the fancy new foot gear over the last couple of months and John had mentioned he had some ideas. As usual, we ended up dragging out almost every damn shoe in the store, but when I tried on a pair of Saucony Azuras I knew they were the ones. I took them for a test run down the block in slacks and button down shirt, feeling pretty goofy but barely touching the ground. There are moments when you know something is absolutely right for you. This was one of them. After an exchange of legal tender, the shoes were mine! Tomorrow we give them a real world ride.

After the morning drive to the office, I pick up the new shoes from the passenger seat, laces tied together, throw them over my shoulder and carry them into work. All morning, they sit on my desk, looking fast. All I can think about is how I love the smell of new shoes, and how long it is until I can disappear for my lunch time run.

Today of all days, it rains. And it doesn't just rain, it pours. I'm watching the windows all morning hoping it will clear. It only eases slightly by the time I have to leave. So, at 11:30, I grab my shoes and head out the door to the change room, checking how much rain is falling.

I say to myself, "It's not raining very hard." To tell the truth, it's coming down hard enough that a sane person would think twice about crossing the parking lot, never mind venturing out willingly for a run.

I sprint out the door and get to the locker room damp around the edges. I hem and I haw, and try to talk myself into doing the aerobics class next door, but I get another whiff of my shoes and I start trying to rationalize running in the rain.

As I'm getting changed, I realize that my run was more important to me than staying dry.

I finally give in. It's Tuesday, and that means interval day. I figure I'm going to get wet anyway from the effort, so I pull on a singlet, instead of a T-shirt and head out the door.

It rains the entire time I'm doing my speed work in the neighbourhood not far from the office. Some times it's coming down hard enough that I'm glad I'm wearing the baseball cap from Whitey's 15 km Road Race to keep the rain out of my eyes, some times it's a mere sprinkle. The local residents, used to seeing runners invading their quiet streets at lunch, seem to take unusual interest in the idiot, running hell bent for leather, in the rain.

I finish my repeats, pushing hard. Slowing down, I coast back over the last kilometre and a half, to the change house. I am feeling strangely refreshed, cool and clean from the rain.

Showered, combed and dressed, I cross the parking lot to return to work. The rain that had soaked me during my run has stopped.

I think to myself as the sun breaks through the clouds, "Another beautiful day for a run. I wouldn't have had it any other way."

By Mark G. Collis

Revised: December 24, 2003.