Over the years, I’d repeated this axiom in my head so often that it had hardened into a life-defining narrative. After all, I wasn’t built to be a runner. Still, I didn’t want to overinvest in case I quit on myself again. To prove that I was serious this time, I planned to buy a pair of real running shoes. And this time I didn’t want to give up after one ill-advised bout of overdoing it. I wanted to run for Janet, and I wanted to run for Rachel. I had come here to get real about running. Up close, the budget price tag-about $50-made them even more appealing. The Saucony Ignition 4’s highlighter yellow accents caught my eye from across the disheveled shoe department at a Modell’s Sporting Goods store. But the fire that carried me to the start line soon pointed me toward my first real running shoes. I continued limping for much of the next week.
Between the shoes and my athletic hubris, I was forced into walking-really more like pathetic limping-by mile two. Mild and then crippling side aches stormed in, and around the halfway point my knees locked up. Adrenaline carried my legs through the first mile as the Lego block buildings of the Upper East Side passed on our left.
