So, people keep asking me what this “Carey Scurry” thing I’ve been mumbling about is. Honestly, it started kinda dumb. My dog, the little chaos machine he is, decided my brand new running shoes were prime chew toys last week. Total write-off. I’m standing there holding one gnawed-on sole, feeling silly, and I remember this old pair of sneakers in the back of the closet.
Dusting Off The Old Gear
I dug those things out. Cobwebs, dust bunnies, the whole nine yards. The rubber on the soles? Hard as rock. Felt like walking on bricks. But hey, they looked like they could still function, you know? Waste not, want not, right? That’s when the dumb idea hit: could I actually run in these fossils?
I figured, “What the heck. Let’s give it a whirl.” Threw on some shorts and a ratty t-shirt, laced up the decrepit kicks, and stepped out back. Took maybe two strides down the drive before my feet started screaming bloody murder. No cushion, zero support. Every pebble felt like a knife. Barely made it past the mailbox. Total facepalm moment.
Alright, Plan B. I ain’t giving up that easy. Thought, maybe I can give these clunkers a new life somehow. Dug around the garage – my kingdom of misfit junk. Found that leftover can of textured spray paint from the patio chair repair disaster last summer. Grabbed some cheap gardening gloves that always felt too stiff for actual gardening. Started cutting the top parts off the shoes, just leaving the soles. Sprayed that paint on the soles – looked awful, lumpy and weird. Then I super glued those stiff gardening gloves onto the painted soles. Boom, instant “yardwork specials”. Looked ridiculous, like something Frankenstein would wear to pull weeds.
The “Scurry” In Carey Scurry
Next morning, I actually put these monstrosities on to tackle the front flower beds. Look, they weren’t winning any beauty contests. Felt clunky and weird. But here’s the kicker: standing around in the garden? Fine. Squatting down to pull weeds? Actually kinda comfy on the knees. Bending over to get at those stubborn dandelions? My back wasn’t barking at me like usual. Walked around a bit, did some light raking. It wasn’t a sprint, more of a… careful scurry. Hence “Carey Scurry”. Sounds fancier than it is, trust me. My neighbor waved from his porch, just shaking his head. Probably thought I’d finally lost it.
Whole thing took maybe an afternoon of tinkering and a messy garage cleanup afterwards. Point is? Sometimes you gotta just grab the stupid idea and run with it, even if you only make it to the mailbox at first. That useless pair of shoes? Now I wear those ugly glued glove-soles whenever I’m doing yard chores. Saved my bum knee more than once. Looks nuts, works okay. Win in my book.
