I Nearly Fought a Woman for a Pair of $770 Speed Trainers
I was getting my daily quad-latte, a staple of my diet and the only consistent thing in my life, when there, in line in front of me, a woman ordered a drink—something weird that required a lot of whispered instructions to the barista regarding temperature and special milk and the just-so number of pumps. This woman with the complex coffee wore something I thought I’d only view through the glowing window of my phone, a pair of shoes I never expected to see in the wild: The Balenciaga Speed Trainers.
Before, I could only imagine what they might look like on feet. Before, I had longingly stared at the glamour shots on the Balenciaga website, where they pose, unburdened by body parts, just perfect shoes on a white background. Before, I had taken up the habit of adding them to my shopping cart, knowing full well that I would never actually be able to afford a pair of $770 shoes, and knowing, too, that if I could by some miracle acquire these gems, I would never actually wear them, but instead display them on my bookshelf next to my collection of first edition books and Gregory Orr poetry.
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Because that is what they are—works of art. My eyes watered seeing the craftsmanship, the stitching, the purest of black uppers. The finest fashion shoe of their kind with perfect lines, the whitest sculpted foam midsole—a geometric figure that makes me think of how fantastic life would be if clouds were square. The logo is just an added bonus: “Balenciaga” gleaming from the sides, beauty at every angle.
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But I had questions. First, what were these shoes doing in a small Pennsylvania town, far away from their home in Italy, outside any major city? Ninety miles from Manhattan, where surely all of fashion’s elite own a pair. And how could this woman—faceless to me (though I could describe her calves: pale and bulbous with small scars)—defile them by trudging through the parking lot in this dusty shopping center?
The acne-faced boy with the beanie yelled from behind the counter, calling the woman’s name and the long list of crap she put in her coffee. Ruth, I believe was what he called her. I watched her magnificent feet glide up and retrieve her beverage.
adidas Marathon Tech Shoes
adidas Marathon Tech Shoes
$120 at ADIDAS
How quickly excitement can turn to vengeance-seeking rage. Who was this Ruth who dared to flaunt my dream shoe in front of me? I thought of asking her to explain her intentions but decided against confronting her, raging about how poorly she was treating her sneakers.
I snapped a photo while her head was turned, then stared her down. Ruth was fancy in her chic cropped pants, lots of jewelry, and short haircut found mostly in France. Not a runner.
My secret photo of the trainers.
Ali Nolan
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Disney+
Right, I know. You do not have to be a runner to own “fashion sneakers.” But if speed afforded one a pair of these Balenciagas, I’d own them. If old school street rules were acceptable among adults, I would challenge old Ruth to race me for them, and if she wasn’t a coward she would have to accept, and I would win that pair, easy, and leave her sock-footed and sobbing on the sidewalk.
Satisfy / Salomon SONIC RA MAX
Satisfy / Salomon SONIC RA MAX
$230 at satisfyrunning.com
But it’s okay that common decency (and law) prevented me from stealing her shoes. Here’s why: the poetry, to me, is what the Balenciagas represent. Running, but elevated. High-end speed. Fantasy.
So my longing continues. The quick glimpse of these beasts in the Starbucks jungle only made my obsession grow. (Now they come in black on black!) They sit in my online shopping cart, a browser I will soon close only to return to, where my curser will linger over the “add to cart” button, and my trembling, caffeinated finger will press down, only to repeat the process again the next day.
Ali Nolan
Freelance Writer
Ali Nolan is the former features editor for Runner’s World and the author of Master the Marathon.
