"Home" referred to three different locations in 2014; work, two. A "place" is somewhere specific that your feet land more often than others, correct? Using this definition, my consistent "third place" is really a collection of places, but with a single common component. My feet consistently landed in my running shoes despite the changes this year fraught. I wish I could claim my third place to be the local coffee shop on the corner where every barista knows my name - and my order - and I sit for hours reading or writing with an oversized mug of something caffeinated and warm in my hand. This simply is not so. The coffee shop on the corner is a Starbucks and it's consistently frigid inside with a line 12 deep.
In the way of footwear, my Adidas running shoes are the ugliest, shoes I've ever owned - black, with a lime green laces and purple interior and designs on the sides. In my opinion, they look as if The Hulk swallowed some shoelaces, rubber, fabric and a bag of charcoal and preceded to barf up a pair of shoes.
I love them.
I've sweat in them, bled in them, hated and loved life in them and racked up miles in them. My Hulk barf running shoes are a testament to how steps turn into miles, and miles turn into marathons. A pile of small decisions equals a habit, and a collection of habits equals your life.