My Shoes Nov 7, 2013

These are my workout shoes. I row a lot and sometimes I ride the bike at the gym. So they're bound to get some damage. With nearly every pair of shoes I own my pinky toe eventually pops out of the side. It happens with Converse, ASICS, etc. So I kind of look like a poor person, especially at the gym I go to in South Tampa.

Well, normally I'd just look like someone who just uses shit shoes at the gym. But at my gym, I look homeless. I see people walk in and they look like they just walked out of Footlocker. Even worse, today I saw someone wearing Coach shoes. I don't know shit about Coach, other than they're probably highly overpriced for what is basically a tennis shoe. If my ASICS cost like $70 new, I can only imagine what ridiculous price Coach asks—and somehow gets—for sneakers.

Originally I felt like maybe I needed new shoes. My wife has newer shoes (or at least more intact shoes) but they at least have a bit of wear. Mine are totally worn out. And then I got to thinking about it a bit. Why was I so concerned about this? Why do I feel like the weird guy. Why do all of these people at my South Tampa gym have perpetually brand new shoes?

Sure, I could go out and buy new shoes to work out. Yeah, fuck that. I'm the normal one. I go to the gym to actually use the equipment, not to be on display. Most of these other people dress in expensive workout clothes and have shoes that look like they've only just made the first trip from the parking lot to the front door. I'll keep wearing my Target workout clothes and my old shoes. I guess I should give the South Tampans some credit though. At least they actually work out a little bit. That's an improvement over my last gym which was just a hangout with machines that people could use as chairs while they talked.

My shoes look like they should—they look like I've actually done work in them. So I think I'll stick with them. The rest of you need to break in yours.