Officially Chain-ed

Darn you, Nike, you’ve finally done it. You’ve slowly worked your way into so many facets of my life that I have to admit….gasp…brand loyalty.

It wasn’t enough that you gave money to build both the library and law school at my university. I spent what seemed an endless number of hours in those buildings. And being in Track Town, the legends of Pre and Bowerman were everywhere I turned. But my anti-establishment sensibility kept me skeptical, as the student newspaper intermittently ran reminders about the sweat shops.

It still wasn’t enough when I got hooked on your sponsored training runs four years ago. I fell in love with the routes and appreciated the freebies—like food and the Dri-FIT™ shirts. I made friends and came back religiously. But I wasn’t drinking the free promotional energy drinks—or so I thought.

Then there was the ad—the one for the Nike Free™. You know, with the guy reenacting the barefoot beach run scene from “Chariots of Fire,” then remembers he’s running on a city street. I laughed. I loved it. I told people about it. But I refused to demo the Nike Free™ at running club. Later I would use the New York Times’ article about the launch of the Le Brons campaign as an example in the class I was teaching.

I figured I was safe if I didn’t wear the shoes myself – and was proud when I would tell my runner friends that they just didn’t fit me right. But a few years later, I went for a special shoe fitting—and to my surprise, I came out of the store with a pair of Nike Air Structure Triax+ 11™. I’m reluctant to say it, but—they’re amazing and I’m on my second pair.

This was a turning point: I’d joined the cult. I messaged my friend who works for Nike to tell him. Not much later I found myself defending the company to a colleague, talking about the products and how the company provided the money to build that library where all of my knowledge came from.

But I didn’t realized what had happened until last weekend. As I headed to yoga class, I glanced in the mirror on my way out. I looked like a Nike poster child. The shoes. The track jacket. The yoga mat. “Top to toe,” as they’d say at the running club. All with a little swoosh peeking out to signal victory.