What Stayed in Vegas...

I took a road trip to Vegas with friends last weekend.

We didn’t play blackjack at the card tables. So, I didn’t lose my shirt. I did, however, lose my favorite pair of running shoes. And I've been sans running shoes ever since.

As a runner, I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t have a “backup” pair of running shoes. In fact, I’d venture to say that my closet is a cross between a Sex & the City/New York-style closet (think: 4-inch heels and peep-toe shoes) and the closet of a California beach bum (all manner of flip-flops present and accounted for). But, no extra sets of running shoes. Thus the predicament.

I survived about three days without running. I cross-trained instead, wearing my flip-flops to weight-training class (I’m pretty sure that’s against club rules). And I avoided the urge to jump on the treadmill Zola Budd-style for fear I might get stange looks (or worse, kicked out of the gym entirely.)

But after three days, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down and went to Target and bought a pair of cheapie tennis shoes ($15.99, thank you very much). They are pretty stylish and they’re from a brand I trust (Champion).  But they’re not my shoes, if you know what I mean.

A good pair of running shoes is, well, much like a "woobie" blanket. It makes us feel comfortable when we slip down into it. If you ever lost a woobie blanket as a child and your parents tried to replace it, I bet you weren't fooled. It was scratchy. Not the same as your woobie, right? Well, I’ve been imagining all manner of things happening to my feet in the cheapie shoes (is that my ankle popping? I think I just heard something.) Alright, so I may be a bit paranoid -- and spoiled with my $85 Saucony Italian running shoes. But you'd miss them, too, if you logged these training miles!

I will survive. After all, there are far worse problems to have these days. Hard economic times. High unemployment. Shoot, some people in the world have no shoes at all. (To give soles to those souls, btw, you can visit Tom's Shoes here.) 

Tonight as I go to bed missing my woobie, I’ll say a prayer to count my blessings. I'll also send out a prayer to the Catholic Saint Anthony -- saint of lost and stolen items -- in hopes that my wayward shoes will make their way back to me soon.