These shoes are made for walking

1 Sep


These are my shoes. Not my only ones, not my current, exactly. But just mine. Over time, they became a part of me somehow.

These shoes were a gift from a girl called Sarah. I hope she would be glad to hear that they made it this far. Not only around-the-world-wise but also in my life.

They were first brought into this world in China, probably a couple of years ago. Then they traveled to Canada, where Sarah got them. Because she already had another great pair of running shoes, she almost never wore them. And because I was in need – desperately actually – of some decent shoes for a little hiking, she decided to give them to me. We were roommates in Vancouver during my ‚Working Holiday‘ and at that point of time, I only had some boots with me made of something like plastic fur – whose best times were over already. I thought of them as great winter boots. But since Vancouver has its own, very mild climate, those boots got too warm indoors and too slippery outside (because they had no grip anymore). My new shoes were just perfect. Besides the hiking, I also wore them during my job at the coffee shop, to walk the laundry back and forth and for everything else I can remember. They joined me in happy times and also when I was upset.

I took them from Vancouver to Las Vegas in Spring for a vacation, before we traveled on to Toronto. They got to see the Grand Canyon (although I am not sure about that, since there was this little wall and I didn’t take them to the edge of the rim), a lot of Casinos, the desert, carried me for hours and hours through this amazing world of imagination, nature and gambling. They crossed the borders of Canada and the USA and experienced flying in a plane (at least it was the first time on some feet, being able to breathe instead of just lying in a box like on their first flight).

We stepped on Canadian ground again, although it felt different from Vancouver. There was less nature and more urban space in Toronto, it seemed kind of dirty and older compared to the west (not judging, just thinking of my shoes). We saw everything there was to see, then moved on to the Husky Farm in Northern Ontario. My shoes got out in the wild again. They were sniffed at by dozens of curious little dog’s noses, had to step in a lot of different types of ground and finally carried me around over what felt like some hundrets of kilometers. I was so grateful for having them. Every. Single. Day.

They got to hit the pedals in a car and feel the ground of a boat, walk, run, jump, rest, climb and protect my feet. And then we went to see the Niagara Falls. My shoes got wet, like many times before, but they dry quickly. We rode on a bike and went on by foot and car and foot again. Then there was the day they got to see their third continent: We flew back to Germany (they flew on, to be exact). I showed them my home city, Hamburg, and took them to a lot of events. On some few occasions I even took them for a run until I got new specialized shoes for that. After all, they weren’t so young anymore…and you should be supported in a decent manner during a run.

I also got a lot of new pairs of shoes and even used some old ones, too. But no pair can replace my shoes. Sometimes I like to wear some nice footwear, sometimes a slightly warmer type, or lighter, more open style, for that matter. In summertime as in wintertime they don’t exactly fit every occasion and, let’s be honest, they don’t look as good as a new pair of pumps.I guess most women love their shoes, as in their many, many, many, beautiful, different accessories.

But this is how I am: I prefer to wear my old-by-now, a little worn out shoes and remember how many steps we already managed to take together, which wonderful people we met and all those amazing things we have seen, on what far away ground we stepped and how easy and nice it all felt with them.


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