Which shoe is best for sub-alpine climbs in late spring, when
there’s still some ice and snow, as well as some mud? Or for toe protection as
well as traction across acres of slickrock? And what about a shoe that will
easily go from sometimes-dtechnical singletrack, to asphalt and finally to doubletrack
fire trail?
Sure, these are important questions, and there are lots of
trail runners, running blogs and independent running store employees who will
attempt to answer them for you. So I won’t, at least not now.
Instead, let’s try this one: “Which trail shoe is best for
sprinting through the San Francisco airport at 6:15am, when you’ve missed a
connection the night before; have pretended to sleep on the airport floor for a
couple of hours (while simultaneously entertaining and feeding your three
children, including a seven year old who is determined to pull her first all
nighter); and have suddenly realized, after the plane has finished boarding,
that you’ve left an essential item somewhere between the nursery area in the
departure hall (good place to sleep, if you can find it and get in) and Gate
61?”
Hands down, it’s the La Sportiva Bushido.
Sure, it looks like it’s a relatively lightweight trail shoe
with a 6mm drop, which has the stability to handle some rocks, roots and mud on
single track, while also having enough cushion for the occasional swathe of
pavement. And like it’s a shoe whose bright colors will attract complements and
who’s snug midfoot fit and roomier toe box has a nice feel.
But it’s even better when one needs to move quickly over super slick airport floors, all the while dodging bleary-eyed Saturday morning travelers, flight crews and airport employees (hint: “On your left” is not terribly effective among an airport crowd).
I know this because, a few days ago, I found myself having
one of those “Oh, no, did I forget that???” moments. They usually end in relief
(“no, of course I didn’t; it’s right there. Stop obsessing.”). But it had been
a long trip already, with one car booster seat left somewhere between airport
security in North Carolina and the airplane door in California. As it dawned on
me that I was without the ever-important (for the mother of a five month old,
and someone who was headed to an out-of-the-range-of-big-box-retail
destination) breast pump, I began to panic.
The flight attendant let me leave the plane to check the
gate area. I made it back outside, but realized that it wasn’t there, and that
it must be at the security checkpoint. We had sailed through the check, but
then had to wait a while for our running stroller (damn running!) to clear
security, and I had been thinking more about coffee than about gathering all of
our belongings.
I asked the gate agent whether I could retrieve it quickly.
He looked at me skeptically. “I’ll be quick,” I offered. And then, “I’m a
runner,” to back it up. “You have five minutes,” he agreed. Of course, we had
used the shorter, elite status TSA line, which was furthest away. I ran all
out, making pretty good time – for a middle aged woman who avoids the track
like the plague.
The TSA agent confirmed that, yes, they had my lost item;
they wondered why it had taken me an hour and fifteen minutes to return for it.
And they needed to fill out and print a form before I could have it. And they
needed to scold me for having left the plane without my boarding pass. I
attempted to explain that time was of the essence – that my two minutes out
left me only three minutes to get back. After what seemed like an eternity, I
made the return portion of my sprint. Even though I was pulled off balance by
the extra five pounds over my left shoulder, and even as I was nearly blocked
by a gaggle of oblivious teenagers, the Bushidos performed exceptionally well.
I don’t think I made it back under the five minute cutoff,
but the course official – no, wait, the gate agent – was kind enough to re-open
the plane door for me. I think he sensed that I needed to be on my flight, lest
the screaming baby in 7D drive the rest of the plane mad for the next two
hours. Or perhaps he just liked my shoes.
They may not be a fashion statement off of the trails, but wearing them to fly leaves more room in the suitcase. And you never know when you will need to do some airport speedwork. |
I love to run. I love the physical challenges which running
presents, the mental health benefits it offers, and the camaraderie with my
running friends. I love running familiar routes near home and, even more, I
love running in new and beautiful places.
That said, there’s something fun about those times when
one’s running fitness is helpful in a direct way. It doesn’t happen often, but
when I have to run from the ferry dock to the Ocracoke Coffee Company and back
(2005…couldn’t give up our car’s place in line to go back for misplaced wallet),
or through Dulles airport to make a connection to fly to Italy (2011…guess
airports are a common place for this), it’s an extra running-related reward.
It’s even better, of course, if one is wearing the right shoes. (And, for what
it’s worth, the Bushido also has been great on single track trails in
Washington state…).
Next time: best running nutrition products for hungry, cranky preschoolers.