Boy meets shoes

I think a special bond exists between a runner and his shoes.

The shoes carry the runner, keeping him comfortable on the long run. They protect the runner from rocks and water. They love the runner.

But the runner fails to return the affection. While the shoes' love of its master is unwavering, more often than not, those shoes end up tossed under a bed, still reeking of sweat.

Six or eight months of hard labor, and the runner discards the shoes for a new, fresh pair. Sure, there is some heartbreak. An awkward phase of adjusting to a new pair of shoes, but the runner eventually moves on.

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I bought a new pair of running shoes before the start of the semester. They were a slick, shiny pair of Adidas Supernova Glides. While trying them on at Dave's Running Shop, I felt like my feet found love at first sight.

A month or so later, that doesn't seem to be the case.

My first runs with my new shoes went well enough. The short 2, 3-mile light jogs around town were nothing spectacular, but enjoyable enough for a second date.

The relationship strained though. My feet wanted my new shoes to feel like my previous ones. Runs began to seem forced. Hill climbs felt tense. Spontaneous runs ended terribly. Eventually, my feet became reluctant to even go on runs.

My feet had moved too quickly in the relationship. They didn't give time for the shoes to break in, to truly feel comfortable. Sure, everything seemed great in that fling at the store, but now the real world was setting in. Maybe my feet and those Adidas just weren't meant to be.

Then my old running shoes came back. The hole in the left shoe didn't seem so bad anymore. The familiar firmness of the soles embraced my feet on long runs. All the old feelings returned.

My feet became confused. Was there still something between them and the old shoes? Why didn't runs with the new shoes work out? Did the socks have anything to do it?

Only time will tell which shoes are meant for my feet. For now, my feet are running with my old shoes. But the new shoes are still in the picture. My feet walk around campus with them, breaking in, becoming more comfortable with each other.

It's probably better that they just take it slow for now anyway.

(Josh's note: This love story is in no way an allegory to myself or any real-life situation. I just got bored while waiting for a casserole to bake.)

I hate hills

Northeast Ohio might be one of my least favorite places to run.

I've ran around a lot of places — NW Ohio, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Jacksonville, Fla., west central Ohio — but Northeast Ohio ranks at the bottom.

Why do you ask?

The hills.

Yes, I realize this blog is named Attack the Hill, and I named it after the struggle to run up hills and conquer them. Lately though, they've been conquering me.

Kent has some fairly steep hills, especially around the university. There's Lincoln Street, Summit Street, Terrace Drive and Crain Avenue — just to name a few. I've never ran a road race with hills that steep or long. I really question sometimes why I train on these hills.

At home, in Pemberville, I can run 8-9 miles no sweat. Here at Kent, I'm sucking wind hard after two miles. That's not cool.

Maybe it's my core muscles. I haven't been doing any crunches or push-ups lately. Maybe I'm getting a little weak around that area. I'll try doing crunches and stuff in the mornings. Hopefully that'll help me attack the hills.

Or I'll just rent a really big backhoe and level out Kent, Oh.

Race countdowns:

Spirit of Pittsburgh Half Marathon: 58 days

Thanksgiving Day 10K Run (Cincinnati): 84 days

Flying Pig Marathon: 240 days