I was contacted by Brooks the other day about the possibility of wear testing their shoes. Either I've misled them about my skillz, or they're looking for chubby, slow runners to see how their shoes hold up. WIN.
I don't have the shoes yet - although this email was the "you've been chosen" email (not the "we might, possibly, one day down the road consider choosing you" email that I got ages ago), they were still careful to specify that it was not certain that I would be wear testing, basically until the shoes arrive. But they have already been shipped via FedEx...
I'm excited. I could say that I'm excited about FREE SHOES, which is true, or about, you know, being part of a chance to offer crucial feedback that can be used to improve the shoes, blah blah blah. But really I'm just excited because it's fun to be chosen and to be a part of something. I like feeling lucky and special.
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"