My Nikes. Look at these ugly things. They are dirty and dingy and worn out. I bought them just under a year ago, I think. They have been my companions through morning after morning of stinky, sweaty workouts. They've been filled with sand and drenched with icy cold stream water and covered in mud as I've hiked my way around the Wasatch. There is nothing cute or girly about them. And I heart them.
I have a foot injury that nags me continuously. These are the only shoes I can put on and wear morning til night and still be comfortable. And I WOULD, if they weren't so hideous. One of these days they're going to give up the ghost and I'm going to be sad. Really, really sad.
But for now, they're my BFF's. They're on my feet as we speak. I worked out in them after work, wore them to the park, played badminton with the kids, then chased a few ducks around a pond. I'll probably be wearing them till I crawl into bed tonight. NOTE: I put the "bad" in "badminton."
I'm thankful for my tried and true companions. They're with me through thick and...well...thick. But I'm working on that.
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