I split the difference

No Shox. No bogus kicks. No socks that say "Trailer Trash" on the bottom -- those "aren't selling very well," deadpanned the girl at the running store.

I went for the $85 Air Max Somethingorothers -- they were tight on the heel (mine is narrow) and cushiony in the front (my footstrike wears that area out pretty fast). And by the end of my 7 miles today (uh-huh!) I barely noticed them. Good shoes.

Oh, the highlight of my subsequent park trip was the nervous guy pulling up in his car and trying to get directions to adult bookstores -- "the ones with the private booths."

"Connections? Triangles?" he jittered.

"I have no idea if you are naming traffic patterns or adult bookstores, sir," I thought.

"Man, just follow such-and-such and go left at such-and such, and that'll take you right downtown," I said instead.

"And Triangles is at Jefferson and Broadway?" More twitching and voice-cracking.

"Man, I really don't know. Just go downtown."

And off he went.

So the 7 miles. It's the most I've run in one sitting since I lived on the beach. 5:32 for the first, 6:23 for the second for an 11:55 deuce. Then I dragged my dead legs through five slow, slow miles, including a jaunt into the woods on a dirt trail.