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My dads running shoes
Those bright pair of running shoes, they are always bright and in pairs. My dad loves his bright running shoes, he loves them for running, my dad loves them for walking, my dad loves them for working, my dad loves them for going to the park, and my dad loves them for going to the plaza. I have never seen my dad without his shiny running shoes, they are not always the same, and he has had many pair of running shoes, sometimes even two pairs of them. Some of his running shoes have been neon blue, sometimes fluorescent yellow, green or orange, but they are always bright. My dad is a runner, he has run since his very first stories, he has run because he is late, he has run because of an emergency, he has run behind my mom, and he has run. My dad says that running makes him feel alive, that running distinguishes him from the bunch of walking zombies that call themselves people. My dad is a great runner, but there are two types of runners, those who run away to escape from things, and those who run to achieve their goal. My dad always try to achieve his goals, he never runs away from things. My dad says life is too short to go that slow, that running is better than walking. My dad doesn’t realize that sometimes it is necessary to slow down, that if you rush to everything you won’t enjoy life, he also ignores that if you rush you won’t see everything. My dad is a really good runner; he has more mileage than any other person I know. Sometimes I think that he must slow down a bit some when, that he must take a moment for appreciating things and enjoy life, that not everything in life is a race. Those running shoes tell many things about my dad. My dad loves his running shoes, after the races they come back full of mud and dirt, but that’s no problem. I remember that one time when my dad was really angry, that time he left his running shoes in the laundry room because they were all dirty, in that time we had a puppy, at the time the puppy saw the running shoes he chew them until they were useless, when my dad saw his running shoes he wasn’t sure if he should throw away to the trash his shoes or the “minion of hell”. My dad’s running shoes are very important to him; they keep along my dad in all his races, in those moments when my dad feels alive and happy.
