Writer's Notebook

Okay, so you want to buy me. Now let me tell you right away that I'm really choosey about who I want as my new proprietor. Looks, personal hygiene and all that sort of stuff don't interest me in the least. But, I do need regular exercise, so only come here if you plan on using me for at least one hour solid walking every day.

What's that? Oh, you think if I'm used that often, then I'll soon wear down. Man, you've no idea. I'm not like some ordinary pair of sneakers. I'm a top-athlete's sneakers. Which means the more I train and the more I compete, the fitter and better I am. I've already competed in over ten marathons on two different continents. I even started an Olympic Games 50 kilomentre walk, and we would have got a medal too, but my owner got too eager as he was about to enter the stand and got disqualified for a running movement. Fame transformed to shame! My toe caps still blush red whenever anyone tells me about it.

So, as I was saying I'm not looking for any old person to buy me. You have to be a true sportsman, and in the old amateur tradition at that. I know only too well, what it's like with the professionals. My dasidda used to carry one of the world's best cross-country runners. But after his first world-championship victory he turned professional and signed a lot advertising contracts with all these famous sportswear firms. And he was out on his ear, or rather his heels. Very painful it was, but worse was the effect it had on his morale. For a month or two things weren't that bad, but when he slowly began to realise that he would never run seriously again, he got really depressive. First, he hit the shoe polish, and a number of times I saw in a more than inebriated state running circles around himself. He was shouting and screaming like one of those television commentators during a race. After that, things were never quite the same and within the month, he hung himself up by his laces. And I'm not talking about retirement either.
So I don't want any professionals. You don't have to be a champion. I'll make you that once you slip inside me. But you do have to run for the love of it.

Tempted? Good! Let's go out for a run, and I'll try and size you up. See, if you can really work together. Pardon! Neglected! Who are you calling neglected. Listen, if you'tre going to talk like that, then we can split up before we even get together. I'm just not having. You wouldn't talk to a trainer like that, so why do it to me?

Ooh, that's what the web site described me as. Neglected sneakers! Oh yes, well there's a simple answer to that one. You see they don't mean I'm neglected. Far from it. I'm one of the most sought after sneakers in this country. What they mean is that I am best bought by neglected runners. You know, those runners who nobody has ever heard of and no club wants. I'm ideal for that type of runner. After one month with me, they become one of the most sought-after runners on the track. No, no. I don't mean all the girls will be running after them. Let a girl in my sight and I'll run like the blazes in the other direction. Don't want any of that stuff going on in my presence.

No, I'll help you become such a great runner, that everybody will be talking about your exploits. Not that it's fair, mind you. But it's the one thing we great people all have in common. Take Sherlock Holmes, for instance. He was one of the greatest detectives in the land. But it was the Scotland Yard inspector who always got the fame, and Dr. Watson who got the fortune. Holmes went home empty-handed. Well, so do I, but at least I'm not empty-footed.