These new Mizuno running shoes
...feel like we were meant for each other from the first time we met.
...supposedly know how to handle my formerly fractured hip, according to the guy at Movin’ Shoes. So far, he’s telling the truth.
...are allergic to fresh asphalt.
...have a hard time believing my first pair of running shoes came from a general store that sold far more food than footwear.
...want you to know I lie about my weight.
...seem far more punctual than I recall the Sauconys ever being.
...wanna know what’s up with the flabby arms. I mean, didn’t I use those "a-firming" crutches all summer?
...are as pissed as I am about that last parking ticket.
...ain’t buying that for my Confirmation during college, I was blessed with a brand new pair of Brooks instead of a Bible like everyone else. [True story, swear to God.]
...wish they went to the gym more often. I tried explaining that some of us have a job to do where we occasionally must work unexpectedly longer and harder, to which they responded: “Yeah, tell me about it.”
...make my legs look skinny.
...okay, okay...make them look skinnier. Now, if they could just make my varicose veins vanish. And take care of that stomach pooch. And, while we’re at it, I could really use a breast lift. Butt lift, too.
...overheard they have to climb dusty Iron Mountain soon and just said in a snotty voice: “You can’t be serious?” Then a toe box slyly motioned toward those abandoned Sauconys in the bedroom corner.
...wish my husband a very happy birthday today.
...seem pretty friendly with beach trails right now. Then again, they aren’t called Waveriders for nothin’.
...may have stomped out of Starbucks after feeling shortchanged on the chai latte foam. But don’t worry, the Slurpee machine at the 7-Eleven made up for it by overflowing the very next day.
...ran up to that unintentionally opened gate, my felonious friends, and stood there. Then we both thought: Hell with it. We’re going in. And we would have, had all these flood lights not suddenly come on first.
