Running shoes are never meant for jogging, this I found out through painful experience last saturday whilst wearing me quite-new running shoes (the ones that make you tip forward, and has several pieces of soles at strategic points to minimize weight).
After one round around Choa Chu Kang with them, muscles on my legs which were normally not utilized to such great extent in jogging swore to abandon me if I ever tried funny stuff with them. On top of that, one piece of my sole was found missing. My running shoes never did promise to be with me for long (that's the nature of running shoes), but I had thought optimistic of our relationship. I thought we could make a great pair.
Went on another 4km backtrack, to no advantage of finding it. Miserable bloke I was, at 3am in the morning, walking about desolately looking like a madman looking for a portion of his soul that was never to be found.
I dedicate this non-rhythmic poem to my departed sole:
When I laid my eyes upon you,
I thought you were the one.
You shimmered on the display rack,
and I told us that we can try to work it out.
You were fast, and you could make me faster,
I see no two-ways about it, for we were meant to be.
The runs were good while we were good,
and we almost made a gold for IPPT (well, not exactly)
we had fun, we could run,
you were all that I need in the sun,
we then tried jogging,
but you were only compliant then.
But oh shoes! You and I both knew that we were never meant to be,
for I jog but you run,
you run, but I jog.
Our speeds were complementary, but we still had a good try.
You think me too slow for you,
I thought you too swift for me,
and it would not be any other day,
that you left me for nothing else.
I searched for you, I yearned for you,
please come back to me,
I will be true, I promise.
I will run faster than Icarus can burn in the sun,
or I will die trying to do that.
But we were never meant to be,
you have left me for good.
What of me then? What of me?
Oh well, time to get another pair of jogging shoes.