Shoe Dog PDF Book by Phil Knight


Click here to Download Shoe Dog PDF Book by Phil Knight having PDF Size 2 MB and No of Pages 405.

I was up before the others, before the birds, before the sun. I drank a cup of coffee, wolfed down a piece of toast, put on my shorts and sweatshirt, and laced up my green running shoes. Then slipped quietly out the back door. I stretched my legs, my hamstrings, my lower back, and groaned as I took the rst few balky steps down the cool road, into the fog.

Shoe Dog PDF Book by Phil Knight

Name of Book Shoe Dog
Author Phil Knight
PDF Size 2 MB
No of Pages 405
Language English
Buy Book From Amazon

 About Book – Shoe Dog PDF Book Download by Phil Knight

Why is it always so hard to get started? There were no cars, no people, no signs of life. I was all alone, the world to myself—though the trees seemed oddly aware of me. Then again, this was Oregon. The trees always seemed to know. The trees always had your back. What a beautiful place to be from, I thought, gazing around.

Calm, green, tranquil—I was proud to call Oregon my home, proud to call little Portland my place of birth. But I felt a stab of regret, too. Though beautiful, Oregon struck some people as the kind of place where nothing big had ever happened, or was ever likely to. If we Oregonians were famous for anything, it was an old, old trail we’d had to blaze to get here.

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Since then, things had been pretty tame. Shoe Dog PDF Book Download And then it happened. As my young heart began to thump, as my pink lungs expanded like the wings of a bird, as the trees turned to greenish blurs, I saw it all before me, exactly what I wanted my life to be. Play. Yes, I thought, that’s it. That’s the word.

The secret of happiness, I’d always suspected, the essence of beauty or truth, or all we ever need to know of either, lay somewhere in that moment when the ball is in midair, when both boxers sense the approach of the bell, when the runners near the nish line and the crowd rises as one.

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There’s a kind of exuberant clarity in that pulsing half second before winning and losing are decided. I wanted that, whatever that was, to be my life, my daily life. At different times I’d fantasized about becoming a great novelist, a great journalist, a great statesman. But the ultimate dream was always to be a great athlete.

Sadly, fate had made me good, not great. Shoe Dog PDF Book Download At twenty-four I was nally resigned to that fact. I’d run track at Oregon, and I’d distinguished myself, lettering three of four years. But that was that, the end. Now, as I began to clip off one brisk six-minute mile after another, as the rising sun set re to the lowest needles of the pines, I asked myself: What if there were a way, without being an athlete, to feel what athletes feel?

To play all the time, instead of working? Or else to enjoy work so much that it becomes essentially the same thing. The world was so overrun with war and pain and misery, the daily grind was so exhausting and often unjust—maybe the only answer, I thought, was to nd some prodigious, improbable dream that seemed worthy, that seemed fun, that seemed a good t, and chase it with an athlete’s single-minded dedication and purpose.

Like it or not, life is a game. Whoever denies that truth, whoever simply refuses to play, gets left on the sidelines, and I didn’t want that. More than anything, that was the thing I did not want. Shoe Dog PDF Book Download I was suddenly smiling. Almost laughing. Drenched in sweat, moving as gracefully and effortlessly as I ever had, I saw my Crazy Idea shining up ahead, and it didn’t look all that crazy.

It didn’t even look like an idea. It looked like a place. It looked like a person, or some life force that existed long before I did, separate from me, but also part of me. Waiting for me, but also hiding from me. That might sound a little high-own, a little crazy. But that’s how I felt back then.

Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe my memory is enlarging this eureka moment, or condensing many eureka moments into one. Or maybe, if there was such a moment, it was nothing more than runner’s high. I don’t know. I can’t say. So much about those days, and the months and years into which they slowly sorted themselves, has vanished, like those rounded, frosty puffs of breath.

Faces, numbers, decisions that once seemed pressing and irrevocable, they’re all gone. For that matter, few ideas are as crazy as my favorite thing, running. It’s hard. It’s painful. It’s risky. The rewards are few and far from guaranteed. When you run around an oval track, or down an empty road, you have no real destination.

At least, none that can fully justify the effort. Shoe Dog PDF Book The act itself becomes the destination. It’s not just that there’s no nish line; it’s that you dene the nish line. Whatever pleasures or gains you derive from the act of running, you must nd them within. It’s all in how you frame it, how you sell it to yourself.

Every runner knows this. You run and run, mile after mile, and you never quite know why. You tell yourself that you’re running toward some goal, chasing some rush, but really you run because the alternative, stopping, scares you to death. When I broached the subject with my father, when I worked up the nerve to speak to him about my Crazy Idea, I made sure it was in the early evening.

That was always the best time with Dad. He was relaxed then, well fed, stretched out in his vinyl recliner in the TV nook. I can still tilt back my head and close my eyes and hear the sound of the audience laughing, the tinny theme songs of his favorite shows, Wagon Train and Rawhide. It was one of my nal classes, a seminar on entrepreneurship.

I’d written a research paper about shoes, and the paper had evolved from a run-of-the-mill assignment to an all-out obsession. Being a runner, I knew something about running shoes. Shoe Dog PDF Book Being a business buff, I knew that Japanese cameras had made deep cuts into the camera market, which had once been dominated by Germans.

Thus, I argued in my paper that Japanese running shoes might do the same thing. The idea interested me, then inspired me, then captivated me. It seemed so obvious, so simple, so potentially huge. I’d spent weeks and weeks on that paper. I’d moved into the library, devoured everything I could nd about importing and exporting, about starting a company.

Finally, as required, I’d given a formal presentation of the paper to my classmates, who reacted with formal boredom. Not one asked a single question. They greeted my passion and intensity with labored sighs and vacant stares. The professor thought my Crazy Idea had merit: He gave me an A. But that was that.

At least, that was supposed to be that. Shoe Dog PDF Book I’d never really stopped thinking about that paper. Through the rest of my time at Stanford, through every morning run and right up to that moment in the TV nook, I’d pondered going to Japan, nding a shoe company, pitching them my Crazy Idea, in the hopes that they’d have a more enthusiastic reaction than my classmates, that they’d want to partner with a shy, pale, rail-thin kid from sleepy Oregon.

I’d also toyed with the notion of making an exotic detour on my way to and from Japan. How can I leave my mark on the world, I thought, unless I get out there rst and see it? Before running a big race, you always want to walk the track. A backpacking trip around the globe might be just the thing, I reasoned.

No one talked about bucket lists in those days, but I suppose that’s close to what I had in mind. Shoe Dog PDF Book Before I died, became too old or consumed with everyday minutiae, I wanted to visit the planet’s most beautiful and wondrous places. I looked up. He wasn’t laughing at me. He was laughing with joy, with glee.

He was impressed. It took balls to put together an itinerary like that, he said. Balls. He wanted in. Days later he got the okay from his parents, plus a loan from his father. Carter never did mess around. See an open shot, take it—that was Carter. I told myself there was much I could learn from a guy like that as we circled the earth.

We each packed one suitcase and one backpack. Only the bare necessities, we promised each other. A few pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts. Running shoes, desert boots, sunglasses, plus one pair of suntans—the 1960s word for khakis. I also packed one good suit. A green Brooks Brothers two-button. Just in case my Crazy Idea came to fruition.

I did some research and found that this job had two things going for it. Shoe Dog PDF First, it was with Investors Overseas Services, which was headed by Bernard Cornfeld, one of the most famous businessmen of the 1960s. Second, it was located in the top oor of a beautiful beachside tower. Twenty-foot windows overlooking that turquoise sea.

Both of these things appealed to me, and made me press hard in the interview. Somehow, after weeks of being unable to talk anyone into buying an encyclopedia, I talked Team Cornfeld into taking a yer on me. Our sense of carpe diem was heightened by the fact that the world was coming to an end.

A nuclear standoff with the Soviets had been building for weeks. Shoe Dog PDF The Soviets had three dozen missiles in Cuba, the United States wanted them out, and both sides had made their nal offer. Negotiations were over and World War III was set to begin any minute. According to the newspapers, missiles would fall from the sky later today.

Tomorrow at the latest. The world was Pompeii, and the volcano was already spitting ash. Ah well, everyone in the dive bars agreed, when humanity ends, this will be as good a place as any to watch the rising mushroom clouds. Aloha, civilization. It was one of the Big Eight national rms, but its Portland branch ofce was small.

One partner, three junior accountants. Suits me, I thought. Smallness meant the rm would be intimate, conducive to learning. And it did start out that way. Shoe Dog PDF My rst assignment was a Beaverton company, Reser’s Fine Foods, and as the solo man on the job I got to spend quality time with the CEO, Al Reser, who was just three years older than me.

I picked up some important lessons from him, and enjoyed my time poring over his books. But I was too overworked to fully enjoy it. The trouble with a small satellite branch within a big accounting rm is the workload. Whenever extra work came rolling in, there was no one to take up the slack.

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