Big as grapefruits, big as pumpkins, yes sir.

So less than two weeks before the NYC marathon, I’ve found myself in the unfortunate position of having to buy new running shoes. Highly unpleasant for a number of reasons, and not at all recommended at this stage of the game. So that sucks.

But the most tragic aspect of the whole thing is this: I spent all of last evening shoe-shopping all over the city, helpful employee after helpful employee bent over in front of me, kneeling in my crotch, while I unwittingly sported some major mammal toe.