Lately when I walk into the store I feel an overwhelming sense of frustration: all I can see is what isn’t right, the unfinished. The construction that costs too much and is taking too long, the missing espresso machine that can’t seem to be delivered (and I have yet to figure out if we can even legally sell), the brands we don’t have on the shelf and alternatively the ones we have too many of.

The highs and lows of starting a business are extreme. It’s too easy for the lows to work their way into the back of my brain and take up residency because they prey on all the insecurities that already live there. All these little insecure neighbors dropping off ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ casseroles on their doorstep each time a new one moves in.

• a comment from someone walking by as we were opening the store one morning, asking if we did gait analysis and proceeding to advise that ‘he’ (the owner of the store; i.e.me) would lose a lot of money because the answer is no, we don’t do gait analysis. We don’t think it’s the best way to find a pair of running shoes - we’d rather encourage runners to try a variety and feel which one is the best. Trust me, no one wants me watching them run with an ipad analyzing their stride (conversely I also wouldn’t want someone watching me run w an ipad analyzing my stride).

• the person who came in, perused our assortment and proceeded to tell me his favorite running shoe brand was one we didn’t carry (yet) and that he was looking forward to shopping at our store because the other running store in town is always so busy, always a line out the door (it’s worth noting he was the *only* person who’d come in all morning). He also told me he ‘hoped people heard about us’ in a way that seemed less like he was going to be spreading the good word and more like he wasn’t sure we’d be around in a year.

• the man who asked me in a not inquiring way about what it’s like to open a store ‘so niche’, wondering out loud in a not inquiring way how ‘stores like this make money’.

As Alanis once crooned : These are the thoughts that go through my head / In my backyard stockroom on a Sunday afternoon / When I have the house store to myself and I am not / Expending all that energy on fighting / With my boyfriend husband.

I joke but seriously nothing strains a marriage like having a three year old *and* a new store.

We’d maybe been open a week when a woman came in to purchase a few things and asked me how it was going. I said great but also admitted I was impatient, wanting things to hurry up, be a certain way and because of this impatience I’ve had to often stop, take a deep breath and remind myself it’s a marathon and not a sprint. She also kindly reminded me that when running a marathon you’re never out on the course alone; there are people cheering you on at every mile along the way.

Some of the highs:

• the aforementioned conversation (and others like it)

• our opening party. I naively thought it’d be my friends purchasing logo apparel (which some of it was and I love you all) but I was floored by how many new faces came in that day and bought real running products. New shoes, apparel…I just had no idea. I often feel quite alone in SF, especially post pandemic since having a kid, watching our friends slowly leave the city but in this moment seeing all my friends, family and neighbors in my tiny little 900 sq foot store I was reminded how very not alone I really am.

• the woman who came in, purchased a Circle long sleeve and on the way out turned to her partner and said ‘thanks so much for coming with me, I’ve been wanting to check it out’. (never in a million years did I think my store would be one someone had on their list to check out)

• the woman who needed new socks and then proceeded to get more and more excited about all the extra little things we sell (dry shampoo, running journals that look like field guides) before exclaiming ‘I love female owned businesses’

• the person who complimented my selection of running shoe colors

• the husband who came in with his wife and daughter, who on their way out mouthed to me ‘I’ll be back’ after his wife tried on an outfit she loved but put back on the rack (he never came back but it doesn’t matter…still made my night. Hopefully he found something even nicer to gift her and she’s not currently unwrapping a robe)

• the woman who stopped me on my way home after work to tell me she absolutely LOVED running in the New Balances I recommended for her

• the other woman who came into the store when we opened one morning to tell me the same thing

• the guy who walks buy every day walking his dog and tells me how much he loves his shoes (while wearing said shoes). he’s since bought two more pairs.

• the other guy who ran by in his SAYSKY jacket giving me two thumbs up through the window

• the friend of a friend who shopped over facetime because she couldn’t make it to the city but wanted some new run gear. (bonus : she’s also a nutritionist so I’ll finally figure out how to appropriately feed myself while working all day)

• every single person who’s ever shown up for a group run

• every single person who says ‘me too’ when I lament about how much online shopping sucks (ecomm site coming soon?)

• meeting really amazing people on the regular - it’s helped me realize that I am happiest when I’m out in the world, connecting and talking to others

The common thread of all these moments : a feeling of human connection, confirmation I’ve charted the right course, that others want what I’ve been wanting too and a feeling of support, whether it be the promise of ‘I’m so excited to start buying my shoes here’ or just someone coming in to welcome me to the neighborhood.

I’m still impatient. The cabinet maker is supposed to be installing everything this week while the store is closed. I found out last minute Sunday and had no time to clear out and move things so I have absolutely no idea what I’ll be walking into when we reopen Thursday.

I suffer from mom guilt from being at work so much (esp on the weekends), wife guilt from being half present at home and store owner guilt from closing the store for the two days leading up to Christmas. We’re always closed Mondays and Tuesdays so really our schedule is no different this week but I still went back and forth trying to decide if I should open anyway. In the end I decided not to, because the lure of three full days to spend as a family leading up to Christmas was far too luxurious to concede.

I found myself thinking back to last year at this time, mostly because I was trying to discern if there were any new years social media trends the store needed to participate in. Last year it was ‘more/less’ lists, which I’ve already written about but thought I’d revisit for fun, to see if it followed the trajectory of the past 12 months. TL:DR sort of. There were definitely more of the mores, but not necessarily less of the lesses. One didn’t seem to replace the other and that’s ok. If I were to make a list for 2025 it’d probably be the same. Only I’d add ‘guilt’ and ‘perfectionism’ to the less list. Make ‘rest’ and ‘sleep’ their own bullet points under more, add ‘family’ in there along with ‘compassion’.

It seems I make lists for everything these days. To-dos, budgets, whatever I need to extrapolate and capture from my overly stuffed mompreneur brain. Perhaps compassion should go at the top next year, as a reminder that they way things are is the way things are and the way things are is perfect. Messy, half finished, missing espresso machine and all.

*k