Purple reign

The countdown to the Indianapolis half-marathon is now less than a month.


The countdown to the Chicago Marathon is less than six months.


And a certain someone just got a new pair of purple Air Pegasus.


I'm thinking now of all the steps those shoes are going to take. I'm also thinking how much I love that I now have purple running shoes.


I adore anything purple. And the idea of pairing these shoes with my UK socks -- the official socks of any and all race days -- is so delightful, I'm just about ready to run Chicago right now.


It's important to note here that I am cheap. I mean, CHEAP. I don't spend money lightly. It just about made my brain implode to pay $135 to register for Chicago. And then to spend $95 on shoes! I'm the girl who shops at Shoe Carnival, for crying out loud. I get my hair "done" at Great Clips. 


But these kicks are special. They're purple.


Like grapes and Professor Plum and pansies and my first 10-speed bike. (Thanks, Mom!)


They're purple like Northwestern's football pants, making them all the more perfect for the Chicago Marathon.


They're purple like the Pie Man who was always menacing Strawberry Shortcake (& Friends), and like the Corvette my bevy of Barbies shared. 


They're purple like my sophomore year Homecoming dress and its corresponding dyed shoes. Like the amethyst stud earrings I wear every day, and like the East Carolina T-shirt I slept in for something like 15 years. 


They're purple like eggplant, which is stunningly beautiful yet not so terribly tasty when you get right down to it.


My new shoes are purple, by God. They're gorgeous. And they'll help make me strong.


And after we cross the finish line in Chicago, maybe we'll take the El to Evanston.


On the Purple Line, of course.