Out with the old…
Aug 16th, 2010
I thought I’d best give mention this week to an important bit of news that has left me with a heavy heart, a passing of the baton if you will… I’ve finally laid to rest my favourite set of trainers.
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First, a little history. Around five years ago, it was a hazy 2005 summer, I’d finally booked a holiday to see my friend Jon in Boston. Now, I’d been abroad before when I was younger, but they were mainly lad’s holidays with nights spent in bars and days spent in bed. This time was different. I was finally making steps into the world, widening my horizons and hopefully catching a bit of sun in the process. I’d booked a month away. Two weeks in Boston then two weeks in New York. To say I was excited would be a grand injustice to my feelings at the time.
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I finally arrived in Boston after a drawn out, two stop flight (I’ve flown direct ever since). I had only one set of shoes to my name having never really seen the need for more. A tatty pair of dark blue converse, fashionable yet deeply unsupportive of my creaky ankles. Two hours into the holiday, we’d only walked a small distance up to the Charles and my feet were already aching. With a whole lot of walking in front of me and the converse being nothing more than a fashion item, I bit the bullet and dived straight into the first shoe store we came across.
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With the exchange rate at that time being heavily in my favour, I bought myself a new pair of white, higher-end Nike Air Max. Within minutes of being back on the road I was walking on air, their cushioned soles taking the weight of my awkward steps. To my enjoyment, they had already started to show signs of wear and tear… I knew right then, these shoes and I were made for each other.
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And the rest is history. We became inseparable. Every moment out, every place seen since that day, I’ve shared with those shoes. They’ve been with me through the highs (the marvellous Maid Of The Mist tour at Niagara) and the lows (the Sidcup station walk from my house). Hell, a few years back I bought a new pair of trainers to see me through my next road trip along the east coast of America. Within a day I was back in the old work horses. My feet and those shoes had become one.
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For the past few years though, there have been grumblings from those closest to me about the state of these trainers. The dirt, the rips, the holes… It began to feel like a witch-hunt! I’m not going to lie, my stubbornness got the better of me and I started to play it like a ‘me and the shoes vs the world’ type of deal (or at least versus my mum and my girlfriend)! The shoes and I became closer, a bond made stronger through adversity. The shoes were here to stay.
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The years rolled by and the holes became more pronounced until finally this year I made a pact with myself that when the summer ended and the rain came again, I would retire the shoes. And here we are, the rain falling around us and my trainers finally unable to keep the water out. Though it’s been a struggle to say goodbye, it’s time to move on…
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Enjoy your retirement guys…
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NB: It’s very important to note that I am not actually throwing out the trainers. I fully intend to pull them out every once in a while, when the weathers right and the mood takes me.
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