By D.C. Lucchesi
I’m not saying I’m old, but I’m old enough to remember how we used to buy running shoes. Or at least how I did. It wasn’t all that long ago when running shoes were shelved along the walls of the neighborhood sporting goods stores – the same ones where you bought your baseball mitt, fishing license and other bits and pieces for playing outdoors.
The shop in my part of town was York Arms Sporting Goods. Yeah, they sold guns, too. Go figure. It wasn’t “Duck Dynasty,” but I recall my wispy freshman frame being more than just a bit out of place in a joint more famous for outfitting the backwoods expeditions of Memphis’ cotton kings and its state championship football teams. Running – as a solitary pursuit – was well into its first boom, but would still elicit an “I don’t get it” head waggle from the guy selling said shoes, who likely equated running as punishment from his former glory days. Meh. But at least they had a size 9.5.
My first real running shoe came from that shop. The Adidas Oregon. I remember it well. Nike was still an upstart, and nearly everyone on my cross-country squad ran in the Oregon. We’d spike up for meets, but this shoe did the lion’s share of the weekday work. Forget specialized needs for overpronators, heel strikers, midfoot runners and all that jazz. The only real question was could you get them in your size.
A lot has changed since that boom, which then birthed the specialty running shop. Shoes are more complicated than the old Adidases I bought back then, and just having the right size isn’t close to enough. The features change faster than Apple releases new renditions of the iPod. Deciphering the differences, and oftentimes critical nuances, between makes and models can be as perilous as acting as your own attorney – or, worse yet, cutting your own hair. Well-trained staff that know their stuff and the products they sell are essential.
Getting the runner in just the right shoe is no small feat, says Mark Allard from Raleigh’s New Balance store. “It’s a multi-step process that you’re just not going to get on the Internet or through a ‘big box’ store.” But that’s only part of the reason your local specialty running shop will never go out of style.
“We don’t ‘just’ sell shoes anymore,” says Chris Elkins, who owns the Run For Your Life shop in Charlotte’s university area. “If you’re going to be a real part of the running community, you need to do more than that.”
Training programs, fun runs, races, injury clinics, nutrition seminars, even yoga – it’s all part of what makes the specialty running shop the hub of that running community. It’s listening, learning and forming relationships with the folks who come through the front door.
“It’s not something that’s contrived,” says Cheri Armour, from Fleet Feet Sports in Raleigh. “It’s the real deal. We want the best for the people who come in here and we want to see them do well.”
Armour says the clinics and programs Fleet Feet offers are a direct response to requests from clients who frequent the shop. It’s no different for Elkins and Run For Your Life.
“You wouldn’t have thought five years ago we’d also be offering yoga for runners, but we’re doing that, too,” he says.
Sure, your specialty shop won’t always be able to beat the price of some online retailer or big-box store, but that’s not their goal. And the siren’s call of a deep discount on a discontinued old favorite may sometimes be too much for even the most loyal local shopper to resist. But some things can’t be measured in dollars and cents.
“It’s that personalized experience,” says Christie Garella, who shops her local Run For Your Life store and is part of one of their running groups. “It’s motivating, it pushes you … it’s great to be a part of something like that.”
Try getting that on the interwebs.
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D.C. Lucchesi runs, rides, and writes from Charlotte. When D.C. isn’t planning or participating in his own “next adventure,” the award-winning writer and former television producer can be found freelancing and waxing poetic on subjects ranging from health and endurance to schools and politics. When he’s not volunteering or coaching in some capacity with school-aged kids, he still enjoys interacting with grown-ups. Find him at dclucchesi@gmail.com.
