The Parable of The Stinky Trainers

Just before my latest CBT I had a brainwave.
In between work I'd been entertaining the girls all week and whilst they had been good, I also knew that the opportunity for some child free time was precious.
I decided to leave early and run to my appointment, killing two birds with the proverbial.
Nothing nicer than the wind in your hair, show tunes on Spotify and the sun on your back.
The run through Wigan was a pleasant one albeit a hot one and luckily I had time to sit outside and cool off before going in.
5 minutes to go and I went inside and was shouted before I had chance to sit down.
As I went into *Deirdre's office (*not real name) I sat down apprehensively having asked to switch therapists due to the last one being unable to spell PANIC amongst other things. We didn't gel.
Introductions out the way and I was already more confident that Deirdre could help me.
That was when it hit me.
Literally.
My trainers smelled like someone had wrung out the kits of 4 sweaty rugby teams in them them topped them with melted Parmesan.

They were vile.
The room was small.
I started to panic.
Should I mention it or show that I don't care??
They were all I could think about.
Neil and I had just got used to each other's exercise honk.
Like workers in a tip.
Exposure had numbed the horror.
I'd even had these bad boys in the washing machine the week before but that just added a soapy undertone to the resident evil and did little to mask the nast.

The panic was making my feet sweat more and as our session drew to a close, I had to acknowledge the elepong in the room.
"I'm sorry about my trainers. I work out most days and don't get many chances to wash them"
Deidre smiled and said:
"Jodie. No apologies needed. Smelly trainers represent to much more. You have slogged in them and persisted to better yourself despite wanting to quit so many times.
Your trainers are evidence that you are winning your anxiety battle with exercise and personal challenges"

Ok, so she didn't say that.
Just a quick "don't worry" and as she closed her door after wishing me a good week I'm pretty sure I heard her spray some air freshener.
Meh.
Prefer my version.

JD xx

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9 Comments
  • Jimmy Wallace
    Posted at 17:21h, 05 August Reply

    Put dried teabags in them overnight then .make neil his morning brew ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜

  • Jimmy Wallace
    Posted at 17:22h, 05 August Reply

    The teabag thing is genuine and works x

  • Helena Edwardson
    Posted at 17:38h, 05 August Reply

    Brilliant! You’ve also inspired me, I have a website with a blank ‘blog’ tab and I need to un-blank it i.e pull my damn finger out!! x

    • Jodie Danner
      Posted at 18:00h, 05 August Reply

      Do it Helena! Mine is almost 2 years old and it’s so cathartic! X

    • Helena Edwardson
      Posted at 18:19h, 05 August Reply

      that’s my thinking, I have a LOT to get out!! x

  • Mike Turner
    Posted at 17:53h, 05 August Reply

    Years ago I went to Egypt with 2 of my brothers and had cheap non leather trainers, that reacted to the sweat and stunk rotten, and I mean rotten. They were so bad they got thrown out of the room. Later they got thrown off the balcony in protest never to be seen again. So I have every sympathy for you lol

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