It’s quite an obvious statement, but you would be surprised how often we do it.
Let me explain.
When I was a freshman in high school, I ran indoor track during the winter sports season. I was an athletic kid. I had played nearly every sport growing up. Skill was there, but speed wasn’t.
I decided to try track out because one, my parents strongly encouraged me to play a sport per season and second, I didn’t want to be the slowest person on all of my teams anymore.
I hated running without any kind of ball involved, so this was a step that took strong will. Once I started, the coaches thought I would be best suited for mid-distance running. They knew damn well I was no sprinter and doubted I could last in the long-distance arena, so the choice was obvious.
During practice every day, those of us running mid-distance would warm up with light stretching and a one to three-mile run, followed by deeper stretching and interval training.
One day, I forgot my running shoes. It happened to be a day when I also had a presentation at school where I had to dress up. Hence, I was wearing dress shoes.
I think you know where the story is going from here. I had a choice to make. Sit out practice or lace up those Oxfords.
I chose the latter.
My teammates were far ahead of me by the time I decided to run out. Our warm-up run would take us around the neighborhood, where we would stop halfway to do some more stretching with our coach.
About five minutes into the run, I knew I had made a huge mistake. But at that point, I thought there was no use in turning around.
The team couldn’t help but hear me coming as I approached our halfway pitstop. “Click, clack, click” My heels banged on the concrete each time my foot came down. Feeling like I had ankle weights on. By the time I reached them, my calves were aching from the platform on my shoes and my feet felt like they were beaten by a wooden spatula.
Imagine… I ran up with a tank top and basketball shorts, paired with the argyle dress socks and Bruno Marc Oxfords. My coach stared as I came closer and chuckled with a surprised look, saying “That’s dedication!” jokingly. All of my teammates looked at me puzzled.
I was embarrassed, to say the least. On top of that, I had missed the stretching round, so I didn’t even get a break before we started running back to the school campus. I ran barefoot for the rest of the day since we were on the track and field.
I came home that day with raw, torn, and bruised feet. Not to mention the humiliation of being caught running in my dress shoes. I questioned why I had decided that was a good idea.
What I realize, when I look at this today, is that we often do things like this. That day my feet and the rest of my body were sacrificed for my belonging and being seen as a strong-willed kid. Forget being seen as lazy and not attending practice, I feared that judgment.
How often are we abandoning a part of ourselves to fit in, to be seen in a certain way, or even to make sure we don’t stand out? We go for suffering rather than an authentic or right-for-the-moment expression because we fear how this will land in the social dynamics we find ourselves. We keep a piece of ourselves out of certain situations to not be questioned or judged.
However, we only hurt ourselves in this process. We come home at the end of the day with regret and an aching body-mind, questioning what we have done. It’s never worth it to sacrifice authenticity.
So, I ask you, please recognize when you’re running in your dress shoes and stop immediately to take them off – maybe even go relax for the rest of the day.
P.S. Of course there’s a world record for running a half marathon in dress shoes. But I wouldn’t recommend it…