So shoe me

Among the many learnings from last year's training (it's NOT good to slam a Monster energy drink just before a run, coffee is NOT an essential part of pre-race preparation, chafing is NOT a welcome aftereffect of exercise) the most profound one is: don't wear crap shoes.

After all, it was an injury that sidelined me at mile three of the B2B last year - an injury instigated by bad footwear. It's not that the shoes were inherently bad - they didn't torture small animals when they were young or steal money from their grandmother's purse. They were just worn out. They'd lost all support.

So getting new shoes was a priority this time around. But I wasn't going to make the same mistake I'd made before - thinking I could grab a pair of running shoes off the clearance rack at DSW. Sure, paying $30 for running shoes feels good at first...but 10 miles and two pulled muscles later it doesn't seem like such a bargain.

Yesterday I headed over to Maine Running Company to get help finding the right shoes for me. I knew it'd cost more than $30, but when it comes to not committing the same sins two years in a row, I'm willing to spend a few extra coins.

One interesting thing I didn't know about running shoes: they should be a half size larger than your regular shoes ('cuz feet sweat and swell and if you're running longer distances your toes will be crushed up against the front of the shoe). There should be "a thumbnail's length" between the front of the shoe and your toes, according to the saleswoman.

There are some cool toys available for testing your feet - like the pads you stand on that gauge how your feet are bearing your weight. (My weight is all on the heels - and my arch is nowhere to be found.)

You may also be asked to hop on the treadmill to have your gait tested. They just had me walk barefoot to the far wall and back to see my feet in action (I won't hide my disappointment over not getting to use the treadmill) and I apparently didn't have any issues with pronation (pronation's when - after your heel strikes the ground - your arches collapse too far inward).

We found a pair of Mizunos that were the same style as a pair I'd had before and liked. A brief jog on the treadmill to confirm that they felt good and (woohoo!) I had a new pair of shoes.

But the day wasn't all rubber soles and joy. Within hours of bringing home the new footwear, my old shoes breathed their last breath and crossed over into shoe heaven.

I attended the funeral this morning: