Running shoes aren’t just a purchase—they’re an existential crisis with a predictable ending.
There comes a time in every runner’s life that hits with clockwork precision: the indecision over buying a new pair of shoes. A moment suspended between logic and desire, between your bank account and that little voice whispering, “Come on, they’re on sale.” And there you are, Googling whether being a “neutral overpronator with latent supination” is a medical condition or just a decent excuse to buy a new pair.
Because it’s not just a rational decision. It’s an internal cold war. On one side, your pragmatic self crunches the numbers and reminds you that you already have a pair that’s basically new. On the other, your runner’s soul dreams of a faster, lighter, and—why not—more stylish version of you.
The dynamics of desire
It always starts the same way. A little suspicion: “I think the sole is wearing out a bit on the right.” Then you inspect your shoes with clinical precision, like a modern art expert analyzing an abstract piece: “Is that wear? Or… artistic expression?” You start seeing flaws you hadn’t noticed in months of use and decide they’re beyond saving: time to toss them. Next thing you know, you’re reading reviews on U.S. websites about models that haven’t even launched in Italy—and might never.
Meanwhile, you’ve got 27 browser tabs open. Eleven are online shops, six are articles titled things like “Best Running Shoes of 2025 (That Won’t Break the Bank),” and one is a forum where some guy from Wisconsin swears his Sauconys shaved 20 minutes off his half marathon time. You trust him. You don’t know him, but you trust him.
The guilt (that never lasts long)
Then comes the guilt phase. You’ve clicked “Add to Cart.” Your heart beats a little faster. “I’m not actually going to buy them… come on, close the tab.” But you don’t. The tab stays open. For days. You keep going back. You look at them. They look at you. You’ve even adopted that technique you read somewhere: leave stuff in your Amazon cart for days or weeks. If you still want it later, then hey, the decision’s made itself—you really need it. You already see them on your shoe rack, on your feet, on your Strava profile.
When you finally hit “Buy Now,” there’s that little dopamine explosion only online shopping can trigger. And then: the void. “Did I need them? Maybe not. Or maybe yes.” Then they arrive. You unbox them. That new rubber smell—smells like the future. You try them on. You look in the mirror. And you forgive yourself. Instantly. Completely.
The never-ending cycle
The truth is, runners are always chasing a new feeling. And new shoes, however logically unnecessary, have that power: they tell you you’re ready for one more run, one more comeback, one more version of yourself. After all, we runners are always chasing improvement, our best selves. And what’s wrong with helping that along with a solid new pair of shoes? It’s part of the discipline. It’s part of the plan.
And come on, admit it: that 10% boost you swear you feel? Maybe it’s not real. But if your brain believes it, who are we to say otherwise?
So—are you going to buy them or not?
Spoiler: yes. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But you’ll buy them. Not because you really need them. But because, deep down, even just for a moment, they make you feel like you’re starting something new. Even if it’s raining outside and you only jogged for twenty minutes on the treadmill. And to ease the guilt, you promote your old pair to “going-out” or “everyday” shoes. They’re still in good shape, after all—and you don’t have to suffer through tossing out something that, honestly, still has a lot to give.