Two Right Shoes

I went to Alaska via California, where I spent a week visiting a Jerry (whatever species of animal that might be). During that week I was supposed to taper, but still run. So, a couple of days in, I go to pull out my running shoes. Much to my dismay, I had carefully packed two right shoes. At the beginning of this whole process, I had bought two identical pairs of shoes, so that I would not have to buy new shoes right before the marathon. Before I left for California, I sat on my couch with the right shoes on one side, the left shoes on the other and spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out exactly which two shoes had the most support left in them, and then packed them away. Except, somehow I managed to carefully stow away two right shoes.

So in California, at 8:00 on a Sunday evening, I sat there clutching my two right shoes, calling shoe stores to see if anyone was open, absolutely desperate for a run. And when I say I was desperate for a run, I mean that I was being an absolute total brat because it had been several days since I had a runner's high... or at least that is my excuse. Unfortunately, everyone had closed at 7:00. The next day, on the way to the beach, we went to four different running stores, trying to find one that had my size in the two models that I was considering. I wanted to try the Kayanos too, because I thought the extra padding might be worth the extra $40. Finally, around 2:00 in the afternoon we were standing in a Lady Footlocker (not the type of store I like to buy running shoes from) and I was frantically trying to decide between the Kayanos which my foot seemed to swim in, and the 2110s which hurt until i break them in. At this point I was hungry and beyond crabby and I think Jerry was about to just abandon ship and leave me standing in the mall agonizing over which pair of shoes to run 26.2 miles in. Luckily, I eventually made a decision, we ate food, and life got better. The 2110s won and we proceeded to the beach where we went on a fun but slightly painful run. The next day I went on another run, this one quite painful by the end. I decided to call Su and have her get my left shoes from my apartment and bring them to the marathon in Alaska. That way I could always go back to what I had trained with.

But first, I called Delta to make sure that I could cancel the first half of my ticket and fly the second half. Well, that was strictly not allowed. I could spend $300 to fly the same flight I had already paid $600 for, or I could buy a new flight (on a cheaper airline) and end up with a $600 credit on Delta. I found a third option. I added a flight home to the tail end of my trip and cut off the first leg, so for a grand total of $117 I can get back to Atlanta from Alaska and get up to DC the day after my birthday to celebrate with the rents. I just need to buy a return ticket. So it ended up being no big deal, but after the great shoe disaster of 2006 I was a little concerned.

So I finally get up to Alaska and am faced the night before the race with three pairs of running shoes (Su did not know which one to bring). I try on the old ones, which were a half size smaller than the new ones, and they feel too tight. They make the blister on my left toe feel as though it is going to explode. Then I try on the new ones, they just hurt. Having them on for a few minutes makes my arches ache. I jog back and forth a few times in the hotel room in both pairs (I did not feel the need to try the third pair). Finally in desperation, I try taking the old insoles out and putting them in the new shoes. I did not think it would work because of the size difference, but lo and behold, it did. And it felt comfortable. So I added my new shoes (both a left and a right) to the pile of running clothes I had already laid out, took a long relaxing bath, and went to bed nervously awaiting the next morning.