of whoppers and runners

Sean eyed the runners as other men eyed power tools or nice cars and big trucks. Instead of oohing and ahhing over torque, attachments or versatility or instead of paying attention to the details in the signature fender or custom interior or even the 72-point surround sound system – Sean watched those people run. Each step coming down just in front of the other; the calf muscles flexing and then relaxing; every inch of fabric in those short shorts and skin tight shirts moving in sync with the body of the runner. While other men listened to the revving engine of the 8 cylinders rotating in order and humming a symphony of metal on metal, Sean listened to them panting, breathing in short quick breathes and yet never to be seeming out of breath.

Sean took another bite of his double Whopper with cheese as he watched the pack of them start to turn the corner. As he squeezed the cheese between his teeth and his molars obliterated any form that beef had to being at one point a living creature, Sean contemplated the diet of a runner – yogurt, berries and granola. Sucking on the straw of his extra large Pepsi, he admired the physique of those rushing by the window: Arms up and half fisted swinging back and forth against those shirts, rotating at the shoulder cuff. Stomachs flat and trimmed, with the breasts of the women runners strapped close to the body. Sean looked down at his physique and noticed a bit of ketchup his belly had caught as it had drooled out of his burger. Using his index finger, he wiped it up and then licked it off his finger.

As his gaze left his belly he found himself watching their shoes. Scientifically designed to be light, airy, aerodynamic and comfortable. Each step coming after that shoe had glided through the air with the most advanced technology moving it along. Each shoe breathing out the sweat, heat, and exhaustion. Every step proving the rise of greatness is in simple leather and laces.

And that’s when it suddenly dawned on Sean. Like all of those men before that have lied to themselves about how one more sub woofer or a new attachment for their less than adequate drill win bring them from the world of admiration to the world of being admired – Sean told himself that he needed new shoes. And he promised himself that after he finished his fries and fresh hand scooped vanilla ice cream shake, if there was time left in the lunch break, he would go to a shoe place. And when he is there he will ask the sales person for the best, top of the line quality running shoe. He promised himself he would slip them on in the store and use them right away – running out to his car. And he promised himself he would run every day and he promised and he promised and he promised. And he spent so much time promising, that he ran out of time and went back to work without the shoes that were going to project him into greatness. Because surely it was in the shoes that that group out the fast food restaurant window that made them who they were. What else could it be?