Let me set the scene for you...
July, 2008
Burlington, Vermont
Downtown
Shopping with my dear friend Sarah
Me: meandoring, enjoying the day
Sarah: also enjoying the day, but on a mission, a mission...TO PURCHASE RUNNING SHOES.
See, Sarah, an avid runner, had worn out her old running shoes. (A concept I still can't completely wrap my unathletic little mind around). Luckily for Sarah there was a store downtown that specialized in shoes for runners.
As we went in, I didn't immediately suspect that this store was very different from typical shoe stores. I looked around and saw just plenty of shoes and your standard friendly sales associates. Nothing threatening at all! Lulled into a false sense of security, I thought, "well, what would be the harm if' I just tried on a pair of these fancy-shmance running shoes with Sarah!"
BIGGEST. MISTAKE. EVER.
Sarah and I put on the shoes, tied up the laces, and then I strutted around for her as we giggled at my wanna-be-athletic attire. One of the sales associates (we'll call him Joe, I can't remember his name) came up to Sarah and me. We all exchange names and pleasantries. Then Joe says, "Ok, now that you've got them on. It's time to test them out."
Test them out!?! What?! What does that mean???!!!
Well, I'll tell you what it meant, it meant getting on a treadmill and running in them for a few minutes to get a "feel for the shoes" or for me "lowered self esteem". Sarah got on the treadmill first and easily jogged for the few minutes Joe required.
Then, I got on...
He started me out at a pretty slow pace, then, he gradually increased the speed. The whole time, I'm just concentrating on not breathing heavily. (I did the whole closed mouth just breathing out of your nose thing. You know, because if I dared open my mouth it would start gasping for air. Instead, I'm just doing extremely forceful nostril breathing. Classy.)
All the while Joe is unknowingly trying to ruin my cover as "the mighty avid runner" by asking me all these stupid questions like, "how do the shoes feel?", "Can you tell the difference between THESE shoes and your typical pair of running shoes?" "How's this pace feel?", etc.
Trying not to reveal my low level physical abilities I try to just bark out answers as quick as possible, "Great", "Awesome", "Cool", "Fun" "Neat"! But he knew, oh he had to have known. By the end of my run I was breathing like nobody's business. Seriously just gasping and coughing for air. Pathetic.
When I regained slightly normal breathing I thought, at least this ordeal is over. THINK AGAIN. IT'S ONLY JUST BEGINNING...
Joe says, "Let's take a look at both of your runs on the BIG SCREEN." That's right, the BIG SCREEN." There, in the middle of the store (and I don't know how I had missed it earlier) was huge 50 inch TV. Turns out, the entire time we had been running, Joe had been video taping us from the calves down in order to "check our run". WHAT WAS THIS STORE??!?! HELL?!?!
First, they put up Sarah's run. Great technique. Great shoe. Great fit. Great. Barf. Then, they put up my run. (FYI, the calves down isn't the most flattering shot of me. WHO KNEW?!?!) I'm obsessing over how mortifying this whole experience is when I glance over and see Joe. He's studying my video with the most perplexed look on his face. Then he turns to me and says, "wait here."
Joe leaves and comes back with two more salesmen. They all start watching my tape. They are whispering to each other. Then, they play my run in SLOW MOTION. I kid you not, my run is being projected on a huge screen for everyone in the store to see, in. slow. motion. Even though there was no sound, it was as if you could hear this thunderous "boom, boom, boom" each time one of my feet hit the ground.
The sales associates continue whispering to each other and then Joe turns to me. He looks EXTREMELY, almost gravely concerned. "Paige... I'm sorry to tell you this... but... you run... WRONG."
Wrong? How is it even possible to run "WRONG"?!?!?!
Joe continues "You see" and he begins pointing to my feet on the screen (which is still playing on repeat for all customers in the store, mind you), "when you run, your heels never hit the ground. You are running only on your toes. This is very rare and is very damaging to your joints, back, and long term health."
I seriously can't believe any of this is happening. I just try to play it off, "oh, well, I don't run THAT much only on occasion (lie, try never) so it's not THAT big a deal."
"Well, even if you only run occasionally you should really get this checked out," Joe explains.
My mind: Checked out?!?! WHAT?!?!!
Joe: "Physical therapists could really help you relearn how to run."
My mind: Physical therapists?!?!?! What?!?!?!
Joe: "Luckily, there's a physical therapy practice right next door. Let me take you right over! They may have openings!"
I'm literally stunned with silence and before I know it. I've been escorted next door to a physical therapist who sets me up with a free appointment to work on my run.
Unbelievable. I mean, I knew I wasn't athletic, I KNEW IT, but to be told I run so wrong, to the point of requiring THERAPY...well I think that's almost impressive.
I never did go for that free appointment. I was too full of shame. Instead, I spent the summer retelling this story and subsequently doing short sprints to show friends just how bad my run was. Friends would remark, "oh my gosh you DO run WRONG! How did I never notice that! It's hysterical!"
I sometimes wonder, what if I had gone to that free appointment. What if I had learned "how to run", maybe I would have finally found my niche in the sports world. I guess I'll just never know...
