I Call This Look…
Sara who’s definitely going to run a half-marathon
Sara first decides she’s going to run a half-marathon in June when she passes by the Upper East Side Niketown on what turns out to be National Running Day. Sara had no idea the nation celebrated such a day — but if Sara ran half-marathons she could have been cheering alongside all those runners who she knows are doing well in life because when she peered inside Niketown to check out what was going on, she saw that the socks cost 14 dollars in there. That’s seven dollars a sock!
Sara balances her finances at the end of the month and discovers that paying sevens dollars per sock is out of the question for her half-marathon training. So the next time she’s downtown near the Marshalls she picks up an 18-pack of socks, an electric vegetable peeler with three settings, an organizer for her desk, seven wicker baskets, a two-pack of OPI nail polish, some velvet hangers, and a pair of patterned running tights. Marvin, who works behind the register and used to run a 5-minute mile in high school, tells her that the tights that cut off just below the knee should give her the best flexibility.
They definitely make Sara’s ass look Niketown-fantastic.
Sara moved to New York to become a photographer, but the camera on her iPhone broke as soon as she got here and the Apple Store said there was nothing they could do. So, now she works as a receptionist at a company that produces locally sourced coasters and inflatable wall calendars. Sara tells everyone in the office, “If I look a little tired these days it’s because I’m training for a half-marathon.” And Catherine from Marketing who is always wearing the newest display clothes from Anthropolgie and just happens to be walking by Reception says, “I didn’t know you were a runner! Let’s get lunch soon and I’ll tell you about the speed-training I used in my first half.” Lunch… with motherfucking Catherine who is a director on the 3rd floor. They’ll probably go somewhere with chairs and order dessert.
Sara doesn’t get running shirts at Marshalls because she knows she has some in her boxes of fall clothes; but she’ll have to wait until her roommate goes out of town to use the whole apartment and really be organized about unpacking them. Maybe I should focus on finding tennis shoes right now instead, Sara thinks. Wait — do you call them that? They’re not for tennis. Half-marathon shoes? No, that doesn’t sound right. Sara knows! Just call them by the brand name so it’s clear right away that she’s a runner. I love these Nikes, but I swear, I got, like, 200 more miles out of my old Asics, Sara will tell Catherine over tiramisu.
Sara discovers that the packed away running shirts she was thinking of were actually just cotton tank tops from Old Navy, which really won’t hold up while training in the New York City winter. And she can’t go back to Marshalls because Marvin recently texted her to say, “It was fun hanging out, we should do it again sometime,” and Sara just doesn’t have time to focus on anything but her training right now.
In the meantime, Sara texts her family to see if anyone wants to run a half-marathon with her — they’ll be like those fathers and daughters you see on Christmas cards who traveled to France to run a race in matching shorts with the Texas flag on them. “Sara,” her father replies, “you can’t run a half marathon! You have that thing where your bones are hollow like a bird’s! And you’re allergic to the sun!” Sunscreen, Sara thinks. “Plus, you’re entirely uncoordinated!” her sister adds.
“We’ll miss you at Christmas, Sara, I wish you could come home,” Sara’s mom sends back with three running man emojis and one thumbs up.
Sara’ chest aches with the unseasonable cold while she walks to Niketown to get an analysis on which running shoes — oh, right, it’s running shoes! — she should buy. March employee-of-the-month Marissa tells Sara as they walk down to the treadmill, “Maybe you should think about starting with a full 26.2 because it’s hard to ever do a full when you start with a half.” Sara doesn’t even get the treadmill started before the running analysis app crashes, but Marissa says not to worry, “I’m not employee-of-the month for nothin’.”
Sara needs Nike’s latest running shoe which gets to the store in eight weeks and is a lovely watermelon color. And it will be so much warmer by then! Marissa adds as she swipes Sara’s card.
Sara goes back to Texas in May for her younger sister’s wedding where everyone asks her if she’s seeing anyone — Sara briefly considers passing along Marvin’s name but settles on, “There’s hardly time for dating when you’re training for a marathon in New York City.” Like a motherfucking marathon-running badass.
At night Sara tenses her leg muscles to see if they feel ready to train for 26.2 miles. Maybe a little weight training before she hits the pavement.
When Sara returns from Texas she heads to Niketown to pick up her Pegasus Flyer 1201s; she can hear the commotion from two storefronts down. Perhaps the socks are finally on sale or someone fell off the treadmill from running analysis exhaustion, she thinks. But, no — Sara has come to Niketown on just the right occasion: National Running Day.
What a perfect day to start training for my marathon, Sara thinks. She texts a picture of her watermelon Nikes to Catherine just for good measure and adds, “We really should get that lunch soon!”
