Dear Nikes
I know you're mad at me. You have every reason to be. You have up until now lived a peaceful existence in the back of my closet. Serene darkness surrounding you like a warm pillow. Only seeing light once a week when I would open the door looking for my Crocs.
Then out of nowhere I shake things up. I put you on my feet, where you haven't been in years. And as if that weren't bad enough. I take you jogging!
Oh the horror! The inhumanity of it all! And the pressure. Oh dear God above the pressure you must have felt with each horrendous step!
How your poor threads have managed to keep it all together I do not know. But I apologize. And I thank you.
I only hope you can find it deep within your sole to forgive me.
While you are at it, try to get my feet, shins, thighs and lungs to forgive me too. They think I set them on fire. I know thats how they feel. Im writing their letters next.
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