On THE Road

ENDURANCE SHOPPING

I should begin by saying I am not a shopper. I generally associate shopping with anxiety and guilt, so I put it offuntil absolutely necessary (like my little toe starting to poke through the upper of my running shoe). People like to say, “Oh, it’s because you’re from New England.”

That might be true but itis also the way I grew up. My friends would go to the mall on the weekends and come in with new clothes on Monday. We went to the Kittery Trading Post in Maine once or twice a year to get Levi’s and we survived quite well. For this reason it is significant to me that Ispent a good hour and a half or more in Niketown NYC this morning— shopping.

It was a terrific spring day and the city was looking great, trees with new leaves and everything in flower. I breezed in, gift certificate in hand. (Otherwise, I would have had to be content to press my nose against the glass or maybe splurge on some socks—this place is not cheap.) My husband, Joe, had won a $500 gift certificate at the Niketown Run for the Parks four-miler. In fact, he ran it with the express purpose of trying to win this prize, knowing I was a bit hard up for shoes, and he was successful by six whole seconds. The store is just steps from 5th Avenue on 57th Street and is surrounded by Tiffany, Bulgari, and Burberry, to name just three of the luxurious neighbors in the epicenter of high-end Manhattan shopping. It was a Cinderella moment or maybe Breakfast at Niketown.

To be sure, everything it sells is nice. It is stylish, elegant even, but somehow I have never been able to justify spending $70 ona pair of shorts and a shirt to run in. I have broken down abit on this front when it comes to shoes. I spent over $100 for a pair of shoes once in my life. It turned out that they were totally wrong for me, huge and heavy and way too much shoe. After getting major blisters wearing them in a 50K, I concluded that more is not better, in price or shoe. Reinforcing this were the looks I got from the other runners and at least one comment (“You’re racing in those?”).

There are several floors at Niketown, and as I wanted to hurry up, buy, and get out to the park for a run, I headed to the elevators and looked for a store guide. There was

September/October 2002

none to be found. I’m sure I could have asked one of the staff, but I felt ashopping experience without human interaction would be the most efficient. After all, I knew what I wanted and I didn’t want to be distracted or persuaded in any other direction. Such isthe mind-set of one who spends very deliberately. So I took the elevator to the top floor, figuring I would escalator it down until I hit the women’s running area. As luck would have it, it was on the top floor. I spied what I took to be women’s running shoes and made a beeline, not totally sure it was what it appeared to be.

The departments there seem to blend into one another and everything seems vaguely similar. Was I in the running section or was it the training section and what exactly is training anyway? Lifting weights, maybe? Yoga? Taking a power walk to Starbucks? I headed for the shorts, which I needed pretty badly. I have five pairs total, I think, which isn’t bad, but twice-a-day running means I must always be aware of the laundry situation and what is where and is it clean and/or dry?

I was immediately descended upon by asalesperson who introduced herself as Candace and who I guessed must work on commission because of the interest she took in me. I’m not used to that kind of attention, nor am I terribly comfortable with it; but in this case it was actually helpful, as it appeared that much of what I might want was not out on the floor but stored somewhere and had to be requested.

September/October 2002

With my gift certificate tucked in my bag and resisting the urge to hightail it out of there, I was feeling blithe and quite at ease in my role as consumer, with a capital “C.”

This is not to say that I am not aware of what there is out there to buy. Iread the magazines and the Web sites; advertising is not lost on me. In fact, I’m sure advertisers have me in their crosshairs. Compared with some places, there are no deals here. There is no sale rack loaded down with last season’s or last year’s odds and ends. This place is all about presentation, and I was looking at the latest that Nike had to offer.

Oddly enough, the inventory was really low. I found a pair of shorts that fit and had pockets (great for ultras). I went back to find three more of the same pair in that size and color. Tomy surprise, there were none. Not that there weren’t other shorts in other sizes, but I was surprised that a store of this size would have just one of anything. So I asked Candace. She would check on whether there were more somewhere in stock. She asked whether I liked the prints or the solids. I said I preferred solids in dark colors. I was hopeful and passed the time checking out the “training section,” which somehow mysteriously morphed into a mini-maternity section. I retreated immediately.

Bad news, Candace told me. The one pair I had in my hand was it. Amused to be holding the only pair of shorts of their kind in all of NYC, I found another pair that fit and was

ON THE ROAD WITH ELLEN MCCURTIN M13