So ends another year of running with the inevitable highs and lows. A first London Marathon done and dusted, five half marathons, a worsening addiction to the instantly forgotten horror of 5Ks (still don’t enjoy them but somehow managed to do 35. Thanks, parkrun), two yes TWO spells in post-race first aid tents, and a hip injury (more of that later).
My running from May onwards was mainly done in what turned out to be a pair of miracle shoes, sold to me by a crocked professional ice-hockey player while on a shopping expedition to reward myself for completing the marathon in April.
The 4 months leading up to the marathon were plagued with an injury, which at times meant having to hobble my way through the first couple of miles of every run until the pain at various points around my left hip had been numbed away. I’d made several visits to an osteopath who tutted and shook her head but managed to patch me up and get me to the start line. I ran the 26.2 miles (in fact my Garmin said it was more than 27 miles) but it hurt and I wondered whether London might be my running swansong. Until, like a male Cinderella, I tried on those shoes.
I’d seen people wearing On running shoes before, and quietly scoffed at them thinking they were the runner equivalent of the kind of people who bought Sinclair C5 cars, all gimmick and no substance. However, I took a punt on them, sticking with my usual running rule of avoiding any hint of brand loyalty, impressed by the claims of “Swiss Engineering” and sceptical about the little cloud embossed “pillows” on the soles that were expected to cushion my future rides (hip willing).
The first few runs were done alone, in the dark, fearful that fellow runners might point and laugh at my new clown shoes, especially as the sky and mandarin colour combination screamed “look at me!”.
Ignorant of the claims that they provide a cushioned mid-foot landing with a barefoot toe-off (or something), the main thing I noticed was the immediate absence of hip pain. I could just go running again, without the grimacing. Later on I noticed they were light, smooth and people, even non-runners, commented on their good looks. And 450 miles later, with no injuries, I think my feet and On Cloudsurfers are an item.
Like all relationships, a bit of compromise and tolerance is sometimes required. My Cloudsurfers have a few endearing foibles:
1. Laces that don’t “stick” – this seems to be a problem with most running shoes. You lace them up and then they come undone again. Here are another pair you have to double knot to avoid mid-race flappy lace trauma.
2. Those “pillows” don’t work well with car pedals – I now avoid driving in Cloudsurfers as the pillows are like little hooks which cling onto your foot pedals with road chaos potentially ensuing.
3. Not sure how safe they are in the rain or ice – they make a a reassuring squelching noise as you hit and leave the pavement, and although I haven’t ended up face down on the sidewalk yet, in wet conditions I don’t get the impression they’re as grippy as they can be when presented with an accelerator pedal.
Overall the foibles are more like quibbles. Something’s helping me to continue to run slightly faster the older I get and as it’s certainly not careful nutrition and cross-training I suspect my footwear might have played its part. They also still look pristine, even after exposing them to most thee of winter weather.
A long term relationship with a brand of a shoe is a novelty to me, having been around the block with pretty much all the contenders over the past few years. However I’m now so monogamous that when it was time to retire the sky/mandarin ones, for the first time ever, I simply had to go online and order another pair (although in a slightly more sober black and lime colour way as variety is the spice of life) without worrying about size or gait.
So 2014, turned out to be the year when I tried a pair of running shoes so good I bought them twice.
Run Don't Run 