I have too many running shoes for my small London flat. They are heaped in the bottom of a cupboard â€" 15 pairs at the last count. One or two get pulled out for a big race or a run round the park; the rest just lie there. But I won’t part with them. They may look neglected, but they’re all important.
I bought my first pair nine years ago. Running â€" exercise in general â€" didn’t come naturally to me: at school I had a permanent note from my mum to get out of PE, and, as an adult, aerobic activity meant wild dancing in sweaty clubs. But as 30 approached I wanted to change. I wanted to run.
Running looked easy; it looked free. I’d seen people in the park, running with reckless abandon. I envied them. So I did what most exercise-shy people do and joined a gym. This way I too could run, but without the embarrassment of being watched by judgmental dog-walkers and picnickers.
But running, it turns out, was hard. Really hard. After my first wobbly attempt on a treadmill, everything hurt â€" not helped by my “stylish†trainers. I hadn’t even realised there were different types of trainers; that the pub, aerobics class and a long-distance run might require different shoes. I soon saw a whole world of running kit open up before me. The only problem was, I didn’t feel like a runner. I was just an awkward gym-goer in a Beastie Boys T-shirt and an old pair of leggings. So I made myself a deal: when I could run 5km non-stop, I’d buy myself a proper pair of running shoes.
At first I could only manage a minute or two. But strung together, those odd minutes made a mile. In time, a mile became two, and I started my blog: Lazy Girl Running. Finally the treadmill’s display hit 5km. I felt proud, I felt slightly sick, and I felt ready to shop. Of course, running shoes have come a long way since then. My new shoes were big, white, ugly, and brilliantly comfy; they were what runners wore. And if I was going to be a runner, I needed to put my taste to one side and put on the uniform.
Along with their 500-odd miles, that original pair collected a lot of firsts. I wore them for my first outside run, my first 10km and, 18 months after I first stepped on the treadmill, my first half marathon. They made me a runner. In time a full marathon followed, then many more, then personal bests, triathlons, and even ultramarathons.
As I was picking up speed, so was the blog â€" it seems I wasn’t the only lazy runner out there. It led to a book deal, The Lazy Runner, and later another on triathlons. Then I made the decision to quit my job and start again as a trainer and coach, helping people learn to love running as much as I (eventually) grew to.
When I look into that cupboard, as well as the aesthetic headway sports gear has made in the past nine years, I see memories: the trail shoes I wore for an 80km ultramarathon through Paris; the spikes, still muddy from competing in the National Cross Country Championships; and the pair that helped me to a Boston Marathon-qualifying PB after years of unsuccessful attempts â€" they still give me a huge confidence boost when I wear them. And all of them, worn or not, remind me of how far I’ve come â€" and that I’m a runner now.
Whether you’re on the hunt for a new hobby or already obsessed, eBay can help you find your passion and connect you with the things you love. If it’s running you’re into, you’ll find all kinds of kit â€" trainers, wearable tech, clothing and more â€" new on eBay.
