Last January, I began training to run the half marathon in Nashville with Lindsay. As a result of, number one, overtraining my legs, and two, these wheels of steel only being built to sprint for 60 feet, cut off the pick n’ roll, and shoot jumpers – I developed some pretty heinous shin splints, amongst other skinny leg ailments. These woes birthed others - wearing my beloved flip-flops now had become VERY painful to wear. So, I backed off a bit last summer. A few weeks ago, I tried again to saddle up on the best flip flops money can buy, the world renowned Rainbow Sandals. (Yes, THE BEST…better than Chocos, Birkenstocks, and yes, even the latest craze – Sanuks). I slipped on my black pair of Rainbows on to head out for a few hours, just to get the feel for ‘em again.
Agony of epic proportions.
For years and years I have worn sandals for about 8 months a year. My feet have enjoyed breathing the fresh air for so long. These trusty travelers have been with me across the country. About this time of year my socks remain lonely in the drawer…but clean and un-lost. I am already missing the hideous flip-flop tan on the tops of my feet. The ease of matching them with ANYTHING (I have a black pair and an identical brown pair) is simply beautiful. But it’s a sad day friends. Until the legs have had a full recoup, I won’t be able to take them out to the fresh KY breeze for a long while. My sandals now lay in a coffin on the top shelf of my closet, labeled and lonelier than ever. They were properly laid to rest this morning. So was a bit of my soul.
From Wilmore, with Love.