I hadn’t realized how much my old rowing shoes were slowing me down until I rowed in my new rowing shoes. They were still comfortable enough, but I think that comfort was an invisible shield protecting them in my mind, because how can I throw out something that’s comfortable? Well, because although I liked the aesthetic of the shoes being held together by superglue experiments and layers of gaudy duct-tape, that comfort prevented my progress.
It was that comfort-shield that shattered in my mind.
In my moving process, I’d reached the point where I started to gather everything together by broad category. I have plenty of shoes I need to sort through to decide what I want to keep or donate, or possibly sell, and as I was lumping these in my mind mentally, I thought about these shoes. They were once my favorite dress shoes, a professional-enough looking sneaker in brown pleather, even after the shoes started to fall apart. I’d still wear them on occasion because I had a big problem with shoes up until recently.
I hated shoe shopping, trying on shoes, and wearing in new shoes.
Those shoes were the first shoes I’d genuinely enjoyed, so I think that’s why I wore them past their breaking point. Now, you’d think this is a rather trivial topic, except for how much of a difference it does make to have good quality shoes. When I flew out to visit family and rowed on a different rower, sure, I wore different shoes, but it was also a different machine. Everything about it was different and being away from my own gym ensured my social anxiety guard was up and my focus was not on my shoes.
But rowing in good quality, thin, shoes is quite a difference.
Rather than being impaired by the tools I use, where my ankles might lock in oddly because the shoes weren’t strapped in well, I could tighten my footing, which tightened my form. I still haven’t tried rowing in socks only, because I imagine that will be even better, except for the shoe strap digging into my feet. These are just idle musings with some level of ado about shoes, but I think it’s important that we occasionally assess where we’re at with what we do. Rowing is, after all, a constant fight to row correctly on every stroke.
What other things could be obstructing my progress?
In a way, I’ll miss those old shoes. That’s why I’d rather not focus too negatively on them. I never did take a photo of them in their final state of disrepair before I threw them away, knowing the right time was just before garbage day in the last bag of a full bin, hours before collection. Maybe that made their departure all the easier?
If anything, rowing helps me learn detachment from calories and materialism.
|Sources: My fitness experiences.
– This week’s weight: 225.0
– Last week’s weight: 224.5
– Difference: Up a half a pound, with my lowest weight being 223. Despite resolving myself to be more consistent rowing, I haven’t been. Packing from anywhere between 1 to 12 hours a day, sometimes even with a few breaks mixed in, can leave me feeling exhausted; then to row still? Maybe I need to do more morning rows?
|Inspirations: I’ve written about these shoes before in previous entries so I wanted to write about getting rid of them. Not stating the brand because they’re not “the best.”|
|Related: Past weekly column entries.|
|Pictures: Crappy drawing to symbolize their disrepair.|
|Written On: December 17th [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: First draft; final draft.|