My shoes should be on VH1

And not in that washed up, they had a career, but now they don't Behind the Music sort of way. No, sir. My shoes should be on Best Week Ever. Last week at this time, my shoes were hanging out in the Grand Canyon. This Tuesday evening, in all of their red-rock-stained glory they took to the track to help a friend meet a lifelong goal of running a sub-five minute mile. I don't know about my shoes, but I wasn't exactly sure this would be an easy task for anyone involved. We set out to come as close to five minutes as possible. My shoes were in charge of pacing, since they had some experience in this endeavor. The first lap was 76 seconds, one second too slow. It took some convincing, but my shoes and I very carefully resisted the urge to panic about starting off a little slower than expected. My shoes carried us through the second lap at 2 minutes and 31 seconds, exactly on pace for a five minute mile if it hadn't been for that start. Knowing that the third lap can often be tricky, the shoes found some fortitude. The third lap is where a lot of shoes start to ask really poignant questions, most of those questions starting with "What the ???" So the shoes surged to fight off these questions, and together we rolled through the third lap at 3 minutes and 45 seconds, perfectly positioned to run a 5 minute mile. The final lap, with the imaginary bell ringing through my laces brought at the best lap of the day. Cruising in that painful way that only shoes on the track know how to do, my shoes moved to the outside and encouraged my friend's shoes up next to me. Coming out of the last turn our shoes mirrored one another. Pulling and gutting, our shoes charged for the finish line that just wouldn't get there fast enough, finally crossing in 4 minutes and 57 seconds.

Somebody buy those shoes an odor-eater, they're having the best week ever.