I’m back in physical therapy. I likely qualify as a lifer because I rehab injuries as well as attempt to prevent stuff. Like knee surgery.

When I enter the large open therapy room, my PT stops what he’s doing – even treating another patient – to watch me walk in. It’s not that I’m fabulous – or a famous runway model – but I have a tendency to toe in.

Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t, dependent on the state of my hypermobile knees.

The next thing he does is scan my shoes. Always Asics. Always worn with orthotic arch supports inside each shoe. Always relatively new and purchased when Zappo’s has a sale.

The story of how Asics became my brand is another instance of God-incidence, another miracle that I feel privileged to notice and give thanks.

My Life as a Miracle.

After a stop at the Apple Store at a nearby mall, I hobbled a hundred feet and stepped inside the sporting goods store, which was nearly empty, though everything was on sale. A single man attended to the needs of a father and daughter. After they didn’t purchase shoes, he quickly stepped into the storage room to replace the shoes.

He didn’t return for a long while, yet I was determined to get a deal.

When he returned, he startled when he saw me standing in front of the running shoes. “Sorry. I thought you were with them.” (the black dad and daughter)

He took a tremendous amount of time to fit my foot. My sole stipulation was that the shoes were white and not the garish color combinations so popular in that era. Finally, the Asics pair was the perfect choice. “Though New Balance, which you wore into the store, is advertised to be the best shoe for women, Asics brand is your best fit. Remember this.”

As we chatted at the register, I learned that he was the store manager and the store was closing that day. A miracle – amen again.