In My Shoes

It was two weeks ago when dad texted me from Spain, triumphant that he was clasping in his hands a pair of shoes that he just knew belonged to me. "They're purple," read the last sentence of his SMS.

I don't think I realized how vibrant the hue was until I opened the motionless package atop my desk the other day. The shoes were practically iridescent. Screaming and not shy. Brash and unashamed.

For over 40 years, members of my family have been gifting me with the most animated articles of clothing they can find, assuring me that my personality can get away with such fashion. And so sometime in my life I've owned snake skin boat shoes, an aqua fanny pack, a wooden necktie, a belt of skull prints, polka-dotted socks...the list is endless.

I guess what surprises me is how I, the shiest member of the family, am perceived to have the most flamboyant sense of style. But they're absolutely right. I can strut the stuff they dish out to me without batting an eyelash, as if on a dare with the stakes so high. Trouble is, I don't know if I can still manage to carry the look in this day and age. After all, I'm no David Arquette.

But yesterday, I put on my spanking new shoes. And they felt quite good.

Back in The Running

After a 3-month hiatus due to a foot injury, I've decided to take that leap of faith and get back into running. So the other night, after the rains had died, I laced up my trusted Nikes and began to stretch my muscles (or lack thereof). I programmed my iPod for a 5km run; after all, I don't think I was ready for anything further. Besides, I was wary about that right foot failing on me once again.

And so I took off, careful not to slip on the wet asphalt lest I fall and injure myself more so in the process. It was a breezy late night and all seemed nice and calm throughout the first km--until the rains began to fall yet again. Heavens, I thought. Not only were the slopes of my usual route dangerously slippery, I feared pneumonia was not far behind, hot on my heels. But I dared not stop.

I ended my routine soaked to the bone. Ok, so my foot sensed no pain. But my pace slackened by a good 20secs/km. It was time for a hot shower and some ibuprofen. I've got some catching up to do.