Old shoes, new aches

I love early mornings in the summer. Dew and that sense that it is going to get hot later in the day, so if you're going to go you've got to go now. Its a great time to run. When I'm finished I feel like I've really accomplished something, which comes in handy while I'm sitting in seemingly endless meetings later on in the day. This weekend I found an old pair of sneakers in the trunk of my car, and even though I know that I wore them to run my marathon last year, they didn't look so beat up. I took them out yesterday for a little jog-around, just to see.
Yep. They make my feet hurt. Its something I always wonder about: the 250-odd mile limit on a pair of shoes. But it turns out, in my case anyway, I think I will keep logging the miles on my calendar so I know when enough is enough and changing shoes accordingly.
I still remember my first pair of real, serious running shoes. They were Sacony-hand-me-downs from my cousin, the first spring I ran track. When I got them they were already a little worn around the toe box, and comfortable to wear without socks. I loved those shoes.
Halfway through the season I sprained my ankle at a practice and my Mom took me to see a doctor--he recommended new running shoes and always wearing socks. Ah, wisdom and youth, so often at odds.