My first official pair of running shoes cost $5. They weren’t one of the top brands at the
time—Nike or Onitsuka Tiger were the ones costing the big bucks—but they were
honest-to-goodness running shoes. I
bought them at Marty Liquori’s original Athletic Attic store in Gainesville,
Florida, wearing them for the first time…I couldn’t possibly have been more
excited, especially after running my first 20 or 30 miles in a pair of Stan
Smith tennis shoes.
My first official race entry fee—Leonardo’s Lap, a five-mile
event sponsored by a local pizza parlor in Gainesville—cost $3. There was pizza and beer at the finish line
and a really cool race T-shirt that I proudly wore for many, many years. The fact that I still remember my finishing
time (36:32 if you’re interested) should indicate how special crossing that
first finishing line meant to me.
The first time I drank Gatorade I paid nine cents. It came in a 32-ounce glass bottle and was
available in two flavors: Lemon-lime and orange. Drinking Gatorade made me feel like an
athlete. Not just an athlete, but a runner.
The year was 1978.
Running was fun. Running was
simple. And without a doubt, running was
inexpensive. The most expensive running
item at the time was a lifetime subscription to Runner’s World that could be purchased for $200 which was a small
fortune at that time, especially for a newlywed graduate teaching assistant.
Times have changed and boy-oh-boy how the cost of running has
changed.
Let me start with a $169 pair of running shoes that the
manufacturer would have you believe makes you ‘fly.’ If you believe what a manufacturer will tell
you—that running shoes should be retired every 500 miles or so—every three
miles you run in those $169 shoes will cost you $1, thus making a car or truck
a more economical mode of transportation than running. (By the way, it’s not uncommon for me to put
2,000 miles on a single pair of shoes. I’ve never been one to listen to the
so-called experts, which may explain why Runner’s
World never kept my interest.)
Then there’s the high profile marathons held in the major cities
that will set you back several hundred dollars just for a spot on the starting
line. Beyond that the likelihood you’ll
need an airline ticket (have you priced airline tickets lately?), lodging (some
of you may have noticed how local hotels raise their rates when runners come to
town) and any other incidentals (dining, memorabilia at the marathon expo,
post-race celebratory drinks) you’ll be inclined to spend your hard-earned
dollars on. If experience has taught me
anything, it’s that runners in general have a real propensity to be loose with
the purse strings when they’re caught up in the atmosphere of a major
race).
I’ve seen running shorts that cost as much as a pair of Nike or
Onitsuka Tigers used to cost. Actually,
it’s more like three times as much.
Sometimes four.
Don’t get me wrong. If
you’re comfortable spending that much money on running shoes, running attire
and race entry fees--AND if you can afford it, then more power to you. I can’t tell you that I didn’t spend a pretty
penny on the like myself over the years, but I will tell you the time has come
for the madness to stop: My running and my wallet need to come to an
understanding.
I buy last year’s running shoes when the shelves are cleared off
to make room for this year’s models so last years’ are sold at rock-bottom
prices. I’m very selective in the races
I run and as a general rule of thumb I stick to the low-key races that offer
affordable entry fees, volunteers that make you feel appreciated and the
personal satisfaction of feeling like I’m more than just a (bib) number. I wear running shorts until the elastic
around the waist band begins stretching out instead of pulling in.
I don’t need shoes that make me feel like I can fly. I refuse to spend money on an entry fee that
could otherwise be spent on groceries that could feed my family for several
weeks (yes—weeks). I don’t care if the
shorts I’m wearing were worn for the first time a decade ago.
Don’t fall prey to following the masses. Do what YOU want to do. There is no one you need to impress other
than yourself. Don’t buy the latest,
greatest pair of running shoes because everyone else is buying them. New shoes
won’t make you run any faster than your old shoes, let alone fly. Don’t feel obligated to spend a small fortune
to run an event simply because ‘that’s what all the cool kids are doing.’ Be your own person, because after all that’s
a large part of what makes you a runner.
Running isn’t about wearing the most expensive shoes, the latest
attire or the trendiest gadget (does anyone really believe a device can tell
you how many calories you burned???).
Running isn’t about spending several thousand dollars to run ‘the’
race…and ‘the’ race after that and ‘the’ race after that. Running isn’t all about spending money.
Rather, running is all about freedom. All you need is a comfortable pair of running
shoes, modest attire suitable for the conditions and a wide-open country road
or secluded trail where you can run free.
The best thing about freedom is—surprise!--It’s
free. Is this a great country or
what?
Free of the desk where you spend more than 40 hours a week. Free from the stress that consumes the
majority of your every waking hour. Free
from traffic, telemarketers and television.
Free from everything you want—and need
to be free of.
I’ll admit I’ve spent my fair share of money on my running habit
over the years. I’m now at the point in
life where the most rewarding runs are those that begin in my driveway and end
at my mailbox. When I have the
opportunity to spend some time in my favorite places I always make time to run
some of my favorite routes while I’m there.
The shaded and swampy Hawthorne Trail in Gainesville, Florida. The rolling country roads through the magnificent
horse farms of Kentucky. The endless sand-covered
asphalt trails along the Atlantic Ocean in Virginia Beach. Just because there isn’t someone waiting for
me at the end to drape a medal around my neck doesn’t mean it wasn’t an amazing
experience, because it most certainly was.
Every
single one of my runs is rewarding because all of them end exactly the same, and
that’s what keeps me coming back for more.
I get to cross the finish line.
And it doesn’t cost me a cent.
Al Barker and I formed the Darkside Running Club in 2002.
One of our objectives was to give back to the running community.
Another was to return every cent collected through membership dues,
entry fees
and the like back to the
runners.
We’re proud to say we’ve held true to those objectives,
and will continue to do so in the years ahead.
For a lifetime membership application to the Darkside Running Club,
Visit our website at www.darksiderunningc.lub.com