STRANGER THAN FICTION: HIGH-TECH SNEAKERS DON'T MAKE ME RUN FASTER, JUMP HIGHER

To read the tag, you'd think NASA had created my newest pair of walking shoes.

The price of exercise shoes these days is utterly ridiculous.

Seriously, you almost need a bank loan to buy a pair.

And then you need a college degree to understand what they're going to do for your feet.

Runners want more cushioning here than there, aerobicizers want more there than here. There's gel cushioning, air chambers and let's not forget "pumps" -- no, not the versatile women's dress shoes with heels, I mean actual air pumps built into athletic shoes for better performance.

None of that stuff mattered 20 years ago. I don't even remember brand names mattering that much, although they must have to some folks.

My uncle had a fascinating T-shirt that said, "Have a Nike day." As a 9-year-old, that really cracked me up.

At our house, where a new child appeared every few years, Mom used to load us kids into the station wagon and take us to our local major discount department store once a year for sneakers. We're talking those no name, navy blue jobs with the three white stripes on each side.

Man, we thought we were hot stuff in those things. That is, until stupid Jason G. pointed at my feet in seventh-grade P.E. one day and said, "Buddy-L's! Heidi's wearing Buddy-L's!"

Apparently, that was the name of my no-name sneakers. Of course, Jason was the same boy who held out cherry pie filling on his finger every day at lunch and asked me if I wanted some of his pie -- you get my drift -- so I'm not exactly sure why I was so affected by his fashion judgment. Obviously, this was no Gianni Versace, but I started saving my allowance for name-brand shoes anyway.

I still wouldn't buy the no-names, but now it's because the athletic shoe industry's publicity machine has gotten to me. I truly believe that, if I don't drop at least $60 on a pair of walking shoes, I'll end up a broken down, old woman barely able to walk because of my fallen arches, bum knees and artificial hip joints.

So imagine my excitement two months ago when I saw a pair of name-brand, men's walking shoes on sale for a mere $25.

These weren't just any walking shoes, according to the tag. They even came with a warning. "You may hear a slight whooshing sound of air transferring from the heel to the ball of your foot," it read.

A whooshing sound! Darn! Now THAT'S scientific progress!

I bought them with high expectations. They still don't feel right.

Maybe because I crossed the line from women's to men's shoes. I always thought the only difference was the way companies express the size in numbers and the color scheme. You never really see men's athletic shoes with teal or hot pink accents.

I've actually done a couple of 5K walks in them. On the last one, I didn't get passed by a single 80-year-old woman or wheelchair. That actually happened the first time I did a 5K. No, I'm not kidding. But I don't think my recent victory over senior citizens and the disabled had anything to do with my new shoes.

The shoes still aren't comfortable after all that breaking in. I guess a whooshing sound isn't everything.

Maybe I'll head to my local major discount department store and look for a pair of Buddy L's.

~Heidi Nieland is a former staff writer for the Southeast Missourian who now lives in Pensacola, Fla.