old shoes and new ones

I had this one pair of running shoes, back when I was training for the first half marathon (one of the two—it was a short career). They were black with thin, gold stripes on the side. Asics GT-2130s I believe. Those were the best dang shoes I’ve ever had. I loved that they were black instead of the typical white or gray with a few colorful spots. They looked tough, and I felt tough the first time I ran the 13.1 miles. You don’t even know how much I love those shoes. That was four years ago now that I bought them, and although I have purchased many pairs of running shoes since, I have held onto the black and gold ones. I wear them with sweats or jeans on Saturdays. I wear them when I’m comfortable and dressed down, and they still look awesome. I mean it, they are really cool.

Since the black and gold days, I hadn’t found another pair quite as good. Even though I’ve continued to buy that Asics series, I have not appreciated the changes to the model. UNTIL NOW. A few months ago on a longer Saturday run my knees started to hurt. My knees never hurt. My feet, yes. Toes, ankles sometimes, even my shoulders. But not my knees. I went home, showered, and drove straight to the sports store because I had a coupon and hurting knees can only mean one thing: New shoes required. They had one pair left in my size, and I was pleasantly surprised by the gray color with purple highlights, the soles that were neon green, purple, silver. Not tough, but really cool. I bought them. I brought them home. I ran on Monday. And I was in love, for the second time.

A few weeks ago Mark and I went up to Pennsylvania to visit some old friends. “Old” means that these are friends we made in college, friends that although we have moved on, grown up a bit, gotten hitched, secured relatively stable careers, are still some of our best friends. We had such a wonderful time visiting—laughing at old, ridiculous college memories, like when Mark and Nate dressed up as characters from the Die Hard series for Halloween one year, and when Lu and I used to run through downtown Harrisonburg, the vacation we took together last summer. And we talked about the future too, our hopes for this new year, our mutual cloudiness over what the next few years will hold. It was relaxing, fun, easy, so familiar. These are the old, black and gold friends. Old faithfuls. Even though we can’t run with them every day anymore, they will always be there in the closet, favorites and still perfect for certain times and dates.

We have made a lot of new friends these past few years living in Winston-Salem. When we moved here it was a bit of a gamble, only knowing a few people, but we have been truly astounded at the community that rose up. There is the Young Life community, our remarkable new church community (who would have thought what harvest we would reap when we sowed the seeds of my short part-time career as the youth director of a new church we hadn’t considered before?), and the surprise of new friends through Hannah and Josh, just twenty minutes away. These new friends know us as Mark&Ginny, rather than individually, and I love that, because it is the truth of us now. These are the new shoes, the friends that are now in the everyday of my life.

This has gotten me into thinking about these seasons of life through which we rise and fall, and the reality that the important thing is the people. I am thankful for my old shoes, and my new ones (I love shoes a whole lot), and I am thankful for our old friends and our new ones (I love them a whole lot more.)



(visiting those old friends)