RIDE A MILE IN THESE SHOES

After boarding the puddle-jumping plane bound for Marquette, Michigan, I collapsed into my seat breathless and on the verge of vomiting over-priced airport sushi. But what can I say? I like to live dangerously.

I’d just sprinted from one end of the Minneapolis airport to the other, reaching the gate moments before the airplane door shut. The relief of finally being on my way to the lasted a cool 30 seconds before my pounding heart kicked up a notch at the realization that my decade-old Marzocchi Bomber shoes were packed in my luggage. It didn’t