The dog wasn’t my idea. Really. I’m a cat person. Or more like a no-pet person who would prefer to travel. That being said, when outnumbered by my family on the dog ownership vote, I caved. All was going well, until Miss Four Legs ate my Newtons. Not the old, grimy 1000+ mile Newtons. The brand new Gravity IIIs. After a recent bike purchase, I was far past the point of being able to justify another fitness splurge to my overly-tolerant husband. So there I sat on my closet floor, staring at the drool-soaked tooth-shredded liner, tears pooling in my eyes. I frantically searched for the receipt. Not the shoe receipt. The dog receipt, so I could take her back to the pet store for a full refund and buy some replacement shoes. Alas, my family begged otherwise. Fine. She stays.
Weeks later, when I had finally cooled off and forgiven the dog, ‘The Shoe Incident’ got me thinking about why I placed so much value on my gear. Why did I think my athletic ability had anything to do with the amount I spend? Perhaps it was a symbol of my intention, or a way of proving to myself that I was serious about training. Perhaps I deserved gear as good as the pros. Actually, if I were a pro, my natural ability would likely be making the best of whatever gear from whoever agreed to sponsor me, but that’s beside the point.
I’ve been reading about simplicity and minimalism for years, and have taken steps toward my own personal version of that, but fitness simplicity still evaded me. I was obsessed with my gear, my training plans, my nutrition plans. I also felt trapped by them at times. I was tired of kale, and my long runs were boring me to tears. I hadn’t run a marathon since 2012. Was I in a rut? Clearly. Then I came across a mind-blowing blog post:
What does it have to do with fitness? Nothing. Or Everything. It opened my eyes to the fact that I might be trying too hard. Could I take it down a notch and would things become easier? I’d like to simplify and remind myself that my shoes were pretty lame when I first realized how much I love running.