The Running Company

Today I decided to walk from the East 80s to 36th and 8th for a meeting. It was beautiful out, and if I couldn't run because of said meeting, I was going to enjoy a nice leisurely stroll. My local JackRabbits epically failed me today, and I was forced to figure out another place I could purchase particular running accessories. Conveniently, The Running Company is located on Third Avenue between 62nd and 63rd Street.

So I'm bopping along (literally - I have a very distinctive way of walking) and I spot the store, and head on in. I find one of the items I'm looking for, but I have a question about the other, so I go to the counter to talk to the cashier. I am going to give this man, who shall remain nameless although the website has a nifty Meet the Staff section and I could easily identify him, the benefit of the doubt. He was probably just crabby because he was stuck inside working on such a beautiful day, but - he was really snarky. The reason I had so many questions about these items is that they are gifts, and I do not want to give gifts that suck. I think he interpreted my questions as ignorance about running. Perhaps he would've been nicer had I worn my running clothes. Instead I came dressed in my puppy skirt!

After about 3 minutes with this guy, I start getting annoyed. Who does he think he is? I may look super adorable in my pooch-covered silk skirt, but I am a badass runner. I've completed 34 miles of trail - with a bum leg! I won my last 5K! I wake up at the crack of down, spend all day battling for control of my small nation, work out for two hours, and then still greet everyone I see with a nearly glow-in-the-dark grin. My hair looks like that from sleeping on it! Clearly he did not understand he was in the presence of greatness... so I signed my receipt, wished him an awesome! afternoon, and left.

The Running Company has a sick store with awesome-looking inventory. We haven't decided if we are going back yet.