I walk a lot. I can’t tell you why. Just suffice it to say I’m walking six to eight hours a day. If I told you why, then I could get fired. That’s what the understanding was when I signed on to walk all day. Don’t write about why you walk so much. This isn’t like when people say, “If I told you why, then I’d have to kill you.” It’s not that at all. I just can’t tell you why because I’d most likely get fired. Really. For real. In this economy—or lack of economy—it’s better to have a job than tell you what the job is.
Once I worked as a beer-truck delivery driver. The job I have is kind of like that job. But I’m not dropping off beer. When I started working as a beer driver, my friends said, “That’s hard work. You won’t last a day.” So I went back to work on the second day and then quit. Just to prove them wrong, I worked two days. The toughest part about delivering beer wasn’t the weight of 400 cases of alcohol or even the cases of beer I dropped on my leg. No, the worst part about delivering beer were the people who held the door open for me when I had beer on a dolly and entered a 7-Eleven or Circle K. Everyone always said, “Now, you owe me a beer.” Or, “I bet you drink the best and then deliver the rest.” No one ever said that last line to me. I just wished they had. I wished there was variety in the day, but there wasn’t. Each stop, each door held open always had a guy with a mustache saying, “Now, you owe me a beer.”
My friend Shelly once said, “Your stories are about nothing. Why don’t you tell me about tying your shoes?” She said this like the most pointless thing in the world would be a story about what it’s like to tie your shoes. Here’s what I told her:
Today, at work, I was walking down the street and both of my shoes were tied. Just like I had tied them in the morning, but the left shoe was loose. It was like I was walking down the street and my left foot wasn’t happy being in such an ill-fitting shoe. So I bent down and tied it.
But the story is not about tying my shoes. The point of the story is that my right foot became a character in this meaningless story. Up until this point, my right foot was happily tied in my right shoe. Until it felt how good it could feel if only it were tied as tightly as my left foot. Now that my left foot was properly tied, my right foot knew there was a better life awaiting it. My feet became consciously aware.
However, after tying my right shoe, neither foot was happy because they both realized that I’d been living my life following the advertising slogan, “Why pay more when you can pay less?”
Let’s say my new job is as a dog walker. (It’s not.) It’s the opposite of dogs. I am spending seven hours a day on my feet. In my cheap shoes, my dogs were tired and decided to revolt. My left foot even said it was going to join up with the one-legged Heather Mills, because after she received $50 million from Paul McCartney, she now has more than one financial leg to stand on.
Instead of living cheap, I decided to be like the Beatle Paul and cough up some cash at the Salt Lake Running Company (3142 S. Highland Drive). SLRC says it’s “the best place to shop, from beginners to experts” and it’s right. Before going to SLRC, I was in no shape to exercise. With its guidance, and by cinching up my belt and opening my wallet, my feet now think they are attached to Clay Aiken, because I am light in my loafers.
If you think your feet have something to say, run—or walk—to Salt Lake Running Company.