Saturday, February 12, 2011


If you see me on the street, or the grocery store, or anywhere else where I would appear as a stranger, you definitely would not think me athletic. Honestly, any decently-sized boy at my school could probably snap a limb with ease if they really wanted to. I'm pretty content with being a wimp, with feeling like I'm going to die upon running for more than three seconds, and with having the nearest by-stander open my Vitamin Waters for me. Until I put these little things on:
My mother bought them for me a year or so ago for a gym class I had to take in middle school (in which I whined about 102% of the time). They sit in my line of shoes, staring at me. I put them on the other night, which brought a peculiar feeling. People run and climb and jump in shoes like this. People that wear shoes like these appear in Nike commercials and are always sweating. I wonder what I would be like if I were a Gatorade-chugging, Nike-loving, pony-tail-donning, speedy athlete. I've never really been on a sports team, even though just about every one of my friends is. And yet, what if I had? Would I have more friends or be healthier or something drastic? Or would I just have something to do with my weekends? 

I suppose you'd be more likely to see me in these. It's impossible to run in them, which is no problem for me. I guess the running shoes just show me how different people are. People can be fancy, or rude, or happy, or tall, or small, or odd, or loud. And they wear all different types of shoes. 

Maybe that's why I feel like the running shoes shouldn't belong to me. Because I hate Gatorade, pony-tails, sweat, and exercise. Perhaps I should give them to someone who could use them. Or keep them for when I feel like pretending to be someone else. 

I think my other shoes may have grown afraid of them.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, same here, Christina! I'm the worst/wimpiest girl in my gym class. You can tell everyone thinks so, even my gym teacher...I dread it all the time. So what if you passed me the ball and I didn't catch it or I didn't make it through the hoop or God forbid me being nice and not wanting to be aggressive. I'm sorry I do all that, everyone in my gym class, but you have no right yelling "BEATRICE!" or insinuating I'm a wimp in front of everyone! *sighs* Alright, sorry, Christina, I felt like getting that off my chest.