I remember almost every pair of racing shoes I've ever gotten. Such an important decision since this can contribute to you having your best PR ever or the worst blister of your life. The best pair I ever had was in spring of 2002 while I was smack in the middle of college. I'm not sentimental about too many materialistic things, but I still have these shoes. I probably will always have them. They are tucked away in their silver nike sling bag and taking up valuable space in the garage. But I don't care. These shoes helped bring me to State that year in the Steeplechase. They were obnoxiously florescent and felt like a feather. They were stained with my blood, probably contributed to a lost toenail or two and made me feel like I could kick it in that last stretch faster than anyone. They were also the last pair of collegiate race shoes I ever wore. After that year, I took time off to find my love of running again and when I found it, by then, I was long graduated and working in the real world. But whenever I see those shoes, they make me feel something. Even 15 years later. That's why they're my favorite and that's why they still are tucked away in the nether regions of my garage. For that moment here and there when I stumble across them and remember when I had the coolest last name for a runner. Quick.