An Uphill Climb, with Shoelaces

It’s been a rough weekend-plus, mentally and physically. One of the great problems with rough times is that they tend to feed themselves. Or maybe I just get more sensitive to bad things when things aren’t going well. That certainly might explain why the shoelaces bug me so.

Let me explain. There are much badder things that have happened in the past few days. There was the party on Saturday, which was fun but also reminded me that I’m fat and weird and don’t truly fit in with my friends. There was the climbing session, which was fun but where I really didn’t make any improvements, and which left me feeling fat and weak. There was the diet going a bit off, which led to a massive swing in my weight, and even though I know that it’s mostly statistical noise, it still sucks. There’s some back pain, likely brought on by sitting for too long, but it’s worrying and it has affected a couple workouts. And there’s the job hunt—I found a couple jobs open that I interviewed for a few months ago being re-advertised.

(If I may go off on a slight tangent, that practice really pisses me off. The jobs that I’m applying for require certain skills, and not everyone has them, but some people do, and I know for a fact that I do, so the idea that they didn’t find anyone qualified is bullshit. And I’ve heard a lot of biz-types spout off lately about how important it is to find a good “fit”, but despite being weird I’ve successfully managed to fit in professionally with a bizarre menagerie of folks, so it’s not that fucking hard. I get conspiracy theory on this topic—there are HR people who need to over complicate hiring to justify their existence, and there are old people who want my generation to be unemployable to show that they were right all along about how worthless we are, and there are political types who want people to not get hired so they can score political points, and the result of these influences is that I get to waste huge amounts of time and energy and anxiety finding and applying for and preparing for interviews for and interviewing for jobs that don’t fucking exist. People who perpetuate this should be punched a lot.)

The thing is, my main reaction to all of this is more weariness than anger. I’ve experienced it all before, and I’ll experience it all again, and it sucks, but it’s a part of being.

The shoelaces, however…

I went to Sports Authority, which despite its name never seems to be a good choice for much of anything. But I also wanted to get a Swiss ball to try as a sittin’ option for when my back is hurting from being in front of the computer so much, and it’s the most convenient place I knew would have it. I figured they’d have shoelaces too, since shoelaces are required for many sports, and to be honest, they did. Nothing shorter than 54 inches, which are a good foot and a half too long for my 6-eyelet shoes. Which raises the question of, who uses these massively long shoes? I have big feet, size 12, and my shoes have never had more than 6 eyelets. If I had the 9-10 eyelets needed to use a 54-inch lace, I’d need to fit an extension on the front.

Anyhow, the sporting good store didn’t have the necessary sporting good, probably because it’s not a sporting good sporting good store. Never fear, I say, with élan and aplomb that I don’t truly feel. I’ll just try the DSW shoe store across the street.

Elton John in Tommy

Apparently Elton shops at DSW. (Edited Tommy screencap via

They did have smaller shoelaces… Eventually. Well-hidden. They had racks and racks of the 54-inchers, perfectly color coded, plus a thingy of 70s. Seriously. 70 inch shoelaces. Apparently Elton John from Tommy shops there.

But fortunately, while the DSW employees clearly know their colors, they don’t necessarily know their numbers, because behind the 70s, I did manage to find a pair of 45-inch laces. Still too long, but workable, and a lot better than trying yet another store. And by that time, I was actually angry.

Fortunately, I’m hoping it’s passed. I’m feeling a lot better now, mostly because of writing it out.* It’s a reminder that creating something is often a really good antidote for me. That’s something I knew before, but I seem to need reminders every so often.

Anyhow, I’ve been non-pissy during my second run of the year (even though my phone had a massive distance-tracking glitch, claiming that I ran the first kilometer in 3 and a half minutes, which I didn’t, and even though the app paused part-way through), and cooking (curry stuffed sweet potatoes, which were excellent, although next time I’m definitely going to add some extra veggies. And I even added a little shake of cardamom!)

*Specifically the Elton John from Tommy line. I’m pleased with that one. Thanks, Reg!


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Filed under Cardamom Watch, Cooking, Funny, Running

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