My (pretty, purple) Brooks Pure Flows.
They have 300+ miles on them as of right now (it's way closer to 400, but there was a time last year when I didn't count). They make the top of my foot, the bottom of my foot, and basically my entire body hurt every time I run in them.
I had been racking my brain for at least a week, trying to think of a proper send-off. Oh yes, a trail run. They should experience that at least once in their short life. And a trail race? Even better.
So we ran. 3.56 miles, on a beautiful (and cool) September day. When I took them off for the last time, I smiled. We've had some good runs. But life goes on, and I already have another pair of purple shoes. I don't like them as much, but we're still in the adjustment phase of our life together.
Some highlights -
|Running through the desert at RnR Arizona|
|MoBot-ing in the pouring rain in Houston|
|Smiling after a PR (at the time) in Tucson|
|NOT being eaten by alligators during Ragnar FLK|
Goodbye, shoes... you will most certainly be missed!