Me and My MBTs

A few days ago I bought some MBT shoes. Actually, the manufacturer prefers the term “anti-shoe.” I had to roll my eyes at that. Is anyone really going to say, “Hey, look at my anti-shoe!”

Anyway, the deal is that MBT footwear is supposed to give you a better workout when you walk. Evidently, regular shoes neglect your body’s supporting muscle system. In fact, they not only neglect these muscles, they openly scoff at them.

So there I was in the shoe store, trying on the MBTs. And I have to tell you, they looked weird.
They are big. And they have these huge, curved soles. It basically looks like your feet are wedged into two large foam eggs. Only less cool.

Undeterred, I bought a pair.

The next day, I laced them up, ready to go. They say that your first time walking with the MBT shoes can be awkward. The curved sole throws you off balance and you have to really think about each step. I found this to be true as I set out on my inaugural walk.

Progress was slow. And eventually my abs started to hurt. What the heck? I bent over, massaging my stomach.

I plodded along, bent over and stepping gingerly so as not to fall. With my weird gait, frizzed out ponytail, big glasses and even bigger shoes, I made quite a picture.

It was at this point that I ran into my friend and his four-year-old daughter.

I planned to explain my shoes to him, but I was momentarily distracted by his daughter’s necklace. It looked like one of those necklaces that’s made of candy.

I attempted to take a bite.

“I already tried that,” my friend reported. “It’s not candy.”

Darn. Then I remembered my shoes. “Check these out,” I said, and (with some difficulty) lifted my huge right shoe in the air.

He seemed mildly impressed.

But was he impressed with the advanced footwear or with the fact that I had actually ventured out in a pair of enormous, neon-white moon shoes? Hard to tell.

I explained the benefits. “They say that walking in these shoes is like walking in bare feet on sand,” I said. “A much better workout.”

A pause.

“You know you live at the beach,” he said.

Hmm. This was true.

“It would be pretty easy to go walk on the sand. In your bare feet.”

I thanked him for this informative and unsolicited insight, then I resumed my exercise.

As I trudged back up the hill to my house, I realized that even though I was progressing slower than a pill bug, I was indeed getting a workout. My muscles ached.

I thought about my shoes. Sure they were big. Egg shaped. Wobbly. But they were mine—unlike the beach, which belongs to everyone and their mother.

Could I go walk barefoot on the sand? Yes. But then my feet would be covered in sand. And I might get hit with a big wave or an out-of-control volleyball.

No, I preferred it this way—my feet ensconced in technologically advanced footwear. Stepping along the same path I’d taken for years. Looking like a slow but determined dork.

“You are the anti-shoe,” I told my new footwear. “And one day you’ll conquer the other shoes.”

Until that day comes, I’ll keep walking with my MBTs. And I’ll proudly tell passersby, “Look at my anti-shoe!” … as I lie on the ground, trying to recover from my exercise.