In an effort to start getting rid of the extra Covid pounds – oh let’s be honest, the fall, winter and spring pounds – I laced up my sneakers and went out for a walk.

Barely a block in, my legs and knees started aching, and I limped back home.

“Old age,” I told myself.

“Years of not taking care of yourself,” the snide little voice in my head shouted back.

Both voices were correct, so I promised to walk more to get into better shape.

Each morning, I’d come limping back. I noticed, though, that my legs and knees didn’t hurt when I walked around barefoot.

My tennis shoes could be the culprit although I hated to blame something I’ve come to treasure – shoes.

For years, I thought buying shoes was practical. Find your size, try them on and buy the shoes if they fit.

I totally missed the boat.

Shoes aren’t just for protection. They’re optimistic, fun and shoes mark special times in our lives, from our first lace-up shoes to our favorite bedazzled flip flops.

They come in all shapes and sizes. There’s flats, high heels, sneakers, sandals and pumps.

You can try all of them on for free. In the shoe store, I used to slip on high heels and imagine myself on the red carpet at the Oscars.

Slip on sneakers and you can pretend you’ll be running a marathon. Reality sinks back in once you realize those high heels are almost $100 and a decent pair of running shoes is twice that price.

Most of us can remember our favorite pair of shoes as a kid. In “The Sandlot,” PF Flyers saved the day. I remember having a pair as a kid and believing I could run faster and jump higher because of those shoes.

I watched Cinderella try on that magic slipper and snag a prince and crying when Dorothy closed her eyes, clicked those ruby red heels together and said “there’s no place like home.”

Tap shoes are some of the best shoes a little girl can have. I spent many happy hours tap dancing around the house, down the driveway and on the sidewalk in front of our house. Best of all, tap shoes make noise and annoy parents and siblings.

But I grew up and, somewhere along the way, came to believe shoes needed to be practical, comfortable and quiet.

A few years ago, I stopped in the shoe store after a long, tough day and ran into a friend. She had the same tired look on her face I did and she told me shoe shopping is therapeutic.

As I looked at all the shoes, I remembered how much fun I had with my sisters and sisters-in-law shoe shopping. An hour later, I found myself a lot happier when I left, fancy shoes in a box. These days, I seldom pass up an opportunity to browse around a shoe store, even though the fanciest place I go is the grocery store.

I thought about my love affair with shoes while out on that painful walk. I started wondering when I’d bought the sneakers I was wearing. I know I had them in the last house we lived in, and that was eight years ago.

Maybe my limping wasn’t because of old age. Maybe the problem was my walking shoes.

That afternoon, I bought a good pair of sneakers – on sale – and tried them out. Not only did I make it down the block the next morning, I made it all the way around the block that evening without any pain.

Those new sneakers might not be made out of glass and they’re not ruby red, but they sure worked their magic on me.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.