My Darth Vader Kicks

I've been told by someone wiser than me in the fitness realm (cough, cough, Sean) that half the battle of training and working towards fitness goals is the mental game. Putting aside the self doubt and listening to your body instead of your brain. I'm not great at this. A slight ache or pain and that's all I can think about. My shoe rubs my heel wrong and I can instantly see how big the blister could get. So not only do I need to build up my physical endurance and stamina, I need to whip my mind into shape too.

And you know what helps with that? Buying shiny new athletic gear. Buying gear that makes me feel strong and determined and I'm going to just say it, bad ass. I got lucky yesterday and found some great New Balance running shoes at Marshall's on clearance, perfect for my running style (based on minimal research) with what I thought was only one drawback. They were black.

 

I've never owned black tennis shoes. They just seemed masculine and kind of strange. Girls are supposed to wear white and pink and pretty colored tennis shoes. Feminine shoes that make your feet look small and delicate. This ridiculous notion started when I was eleven and had just endured a crazy growth spurt where my feet jumped up two sizes to a women's size 9. My mom took me to Steve's Shoes at the mall to pick out some new shoes. We walked in and almost immediately the 19 year old douche bag clerk laughed snidely, pointed at my feet and said, "Wow, those are some big boats you've got there." My face flushed tomato red and I wanted to leave the store immediately. My mom scolded the moron, then forced him to bring out pair after pair of shoes for me to try on and we walked away with just one measly pair in the end. And for years I picked shoes based on how much smaller they made my feet look. I let some lame teenage boy working a crappy retail job keep me away from black tennis shoes because I thought they were too boyish and made my feet look big. Except they don't. It's baloney. These black shoes make me feel like I could run and run, and kick some ass. They are my evil Dark Vader kicks. And they shall carry me miles.

 

I finished week one of the Couch to 5K plan this week. I've finally lost another couple of pounds after a three month plateau built upon ice cream and pizza. I joined the gym right next door to my office, and I start swimming there Tuesday. I can't wait until all my new gear arrives next week: new running shorts and shirts, a new athletic tank swimsuit with guaranteed boob wrangling powers and socks, and more socks. So I'm excited. But I'm still gonna need some Jedi inspired power to get through the next few months, so thank god for the kicks.