10 Best Womens Nike Shoes For Gym
Updated on: May 2023
Best Womens Nike Shoes For Gym in 2023
Nike Women's Air Zoom Winflo 5 Running Shoe, Black/Anthracite, 9
Nike Womens Free TR 8 Running Shoes Black/White 7 B(M) US

- Mesh
- Imported
- 3-D printing on mesh upper for flexibility and breathability
- Flywire cables integrate with laces for midfoot lockdown
- Full bootie construction creates a sock-like fit.
Nike Women's Air Zoom Pegasus 34 Running Shoe (7.5, White/Anthracite-Pure Platinum)

- BREATHABLE COMFORT. The one-piece Flymesh fabric is lightweight and breathable to help keep your feet from overheating. This version of Flymesh is updated with lighter materials while still providing excellent support around your foot.
- SECURE FIT. Flywire, incredibly strong cables, works together with the laces to wrap the arch of your foot for snug support, helping to keep the shoe in place as you move. A firm heel cups your heel for added stability.
- RESPONSIVE FEEL. A foam cushion works with Zoom Air units in the forefoot and heel to gives you a push as you run.
- A rubber strip along the bottom of the shoe helps you transition from heel to toe, while small cuts offer a flexible feel.
- Raised rubber sections on bottom of the shoe provide traction.
Nike Women's Shox Enigma Casual Shoes (8.5, Black/Black/Gym Red)
Nike Women's Reax Run 5 Running Shoes White/Metallic Silver/Dark Grey 9.5

- Mesh upper, lace-up front
- Synthetic sole
- Comfort
Nike Womens Free RN Flyknit 2018 Running Athletic, White/Black, 7.5

- Nike Women's Free Rn Flyknit 2018 Running Shoe
- Measurement Guide
- Women's Shoe Sizing Guide
Nike Womens Free RN Flyknit Running Shoes White/Black 8

- Brand: Nike
- Style:
- Materials: upper / outsole
- Toe Style:
- Closure Type:
Nike Womens Tanjun Running Sneaker Black/White 8.5

- Foam midsole/outsole offers lightweight cushioning.
- Breathable textile upper for lightweight comfort.
Nike Women's Run Swift Sneaker, Wolf Grey/Metallic Red Bronze, 6.5

- Shaft measures approximately low-top from arch
- Mesh construction provides targeted ventilation and support
- Fly wire cables integrate with the laces for adaptive support
- Waffle pistons enhance cushioning and response
- Wide forefoot allows room for toe splay
Nike Womens Shox Enigma BQ9001 100 White (7.5)

- Rubber sole, Textured outsole, Mesh upper for breathability
- Flywire cables and a new lacing system create a secure fit
- Twin plates with foam cushioning under the heel provide the distinct Shox comfort and style
- Nike Shox foam and plate design improve ride and rebound
- Grip on heel and tongue allows for easy on and off
How to Make Duct Tape Feet a Part of Your Next NYC Road Trip and Madison Square Garden Adventure
On a Friday afternoon roadtrip to NYC, two Dispatch fans dazzle drivers with their crafted duct tape feet, then worry if duct tape feet will meet the shoes required rule.
We were driving (really, I, was driving and they were riding, but the royal we endures) from Boston to NYC to get Max and friend, Mike, to their 13th row seats in the must-see, last-ever Dispatch concert. Max and Mike are both too young to know that Dispatch, like Cher and every other performer on earth, WILL be back on stage again in one form of the original band or another sooner than later. It was not worth deflating their excitement over the final extravaganza, so I was the kindly volunteer chauffeur for this musical adventure.
At the time that this Rules about The Wearing of Shoes conversation began, we were about two hours away from our NYC destination - urban jungle driving home stretch. Max was insisting that NYC stores and restaurants or managers of say, Madison Square Garden, would most certainly make the obvious distinction between shoes required on feet (as in visible human skin and bones feet) and shoes required on duct tape feet.
Yes. Duct tape feet. You read correctly. What are duct tape feet exactly, you ask, and WHY are we discussing them?
WHAT! You are not aware of this latest teen boy adventure fashion! I am shocked.
NOT.
I am an open-minded chauffeuring Mother of teen boy type. It takes much, much less to shock me than it used to.
Duct tape feet are, as the name suggests, feet disguised, covered, decorated, suffocated, strangled, smothered, wrapped in, you guessed it, duct tape. Please feel free to choose whatever action verb you might prefer since this fashion statement most definitely involves prolonged, focused, repetitive action by said teenage boys to create the desired duct tape feet fashion.
The width, color, brand, and length of the duct tape or the cardboard roll at its base is not significant. In the case of my son Max and his friend in all pranks and disasters, Mike, the duct tape selected was basic gray. It was not one of the many creative duct tape colors available (17 standard, 4 neon plus assorted Hollywood and other fashion hues by initial research count) for choice on www.ducttapefashion.com or other similar online favorite sites of duct tape-obsessed personalities around the world.
In this particular case, basic gray was perhaps the best color choice, allowing duct tape feet to stand out distinctly when Max and Mike insisted on displaying newly-created duct tape feet out through the side rear windows of our moving Honda for all New York Rte. 95 South traffic to observe and ponder.
As far as I am aware (being the somewhat ignorant parent that I know I am), Max and Mike do not have any long-standing deep-rooted fetish for duct tape or for camouflaging their feet or any other limbs or body parts. They do most surely have a well-earned passion and impulsivity for creative experimentation, shall we say? These exploits are sometimes fully pre-meditated, as was the Natick Mall scene they created, with Mike as the costumed Halloween gorilla in pursuit of Max as the costumed Halloween Banana at high speeds through the mall's retail and food court aisles, parked cars, and beyond. Amazingly, they got in a good two hours of holiday shopping mall exercise before security escorted them off the retail premises. Other times, their teen boy antics are entirely spontaneous and inspired in the moment as this Friday highway hardware pedicure of sorts seemed to be.
I must admit that I am not entirely sure how the duct tape made it into my car. It was not my duct tape. (Officer: I had no part in this boyish foolishness, I practiced saying silently to myself....) I do not believe that my son brought the duct tape on board. (Not MY son, officer. HE was NOT the instigator of this illegal activity!). The tape may have (MUST!) have come along with Mike.
I also do not know when the duct tape fashion effort began exactly. At some point three hours or so into our ride, my daughter awoke from her nap in the front passenger seat, turned around, and giggled.
"Max! What ARE you guys doing?" she asked, awaiting whatever absurd but always entertaining Max explanation she was sure would follow.
"We're wondering... if we could make... sandals...out of... duct tape, you know? And we could actually walk around in them... ,"Mike and Max offered, more to each other than in response to Glenna, alternating, seemingly forming, the emerging words very slowly between them to gradually complete this sentence of ridiculous intention.
Suddenly alert and somewhat intrigued, I tried to sneak a peak in the rear view mirror. Unable to see any part of anyone's feet, I did a quick head turn to the back seat.
"If your goal is to make sandals, why does it look like the tape is going ON your feet?" I inquired. "Are you trying to calculate size for your sandal mold?" I asked, thinking I was being so clever.
Said Max,"Do you think we could wrap it around our toes so they could still move?"
"Max!" Glenna was screeching now. "You have really hairy feet! You idiot!"
"YOU idiot!" Max retorted, continuing to layer his feet in sticky duct tape, or so I gathered from Glenna's wide-eyed stare and pleading glance my way.
"You are going to be soooo sorry," she repeated in a futile effort to interrupt Max's concentrated tape-wrapping, around and around and around.
"You are going to be in such agonizing pain later trying to pull that tape off your feet. MAX! Are you CRAZY?"
MAX! continued to ignore her.
After that, she gave into the game, pointing out better ways for them to maneuver the duct tape in and out around their toes, watching for areas they had missed.
"You've got a big skin spot showing on your heel, Mike," she reported. "Max, Mike has no hair on his feet. You are going to be so sorry."
Max was too into the now of his Duct Tape Feet to care about worrying about later.
I must admit that these glowing gray, seemingly metallic duct tape feet were quite the visual art! When we slowed to a crawl 10 miles or so from the George Washington Bridge, I gave in and let them hang their creations fully out the windows for all to see.
The reactions were hysterical! Double-takes, head turns, and pointing, jolly, belly-rolling laughter from truck drivers, kiddos in back seats bouncing at their windows, lady drivers caught completely off-guard, even the limo driver finally gave in with a high-five.
When I insisted the feet come in, the boys whined: "We need to be noticed! Our feet need to make a statement!" They proclaimed.
I called friend Rob, laughing through high-comic wet cheeks, to ask him to get online to check out highway rules re: extended body parts.
"These are NOT body parts," Max insisted. "These are duct tape feet. These are not real feet."
Had an officer appeared, I would have pleaded dumb blonde ignorance, of course. (Sometimes natural gifts come in handy.)
And so the duct tape feet tale wound down to its sticky ending. The boys hopped out at Madison Square Garden, attended their concert, enjoyed take-out at an NYC McDonald's, roamed Times Square at midnight, all without police action against their duct tape feet. They did squeeze shoes on during at least part of their city strolling, I am told.
Come 2 a.m., Mike easily unwound his Duct Tape Feet, with little grimacing and much relief at the feel of cool air surrounding his previously breathlessly-trapped-for-hours tootsies.
Max, on the other hand, winced and sighed and grimaced for a good 45 minutes, curled over his feet on the hotel room floor, trying to inch the tape away from his screaming foot hairs, one tiny hair at a time. I did suggest perhaps a soapy washcloth? Moral support I was not extending. His sister slept peacefully just inches away, probably dreaming up lyrics for a song called 'Stupid, Boy!' With each slight pull of the powerful, extra firm hold-anything-in-place duct tape, Max cringed and whimpered, but he continued until he had viciously ripped every piece of duct tape away from the oh so delicate roots on his big, hairy, manly formerly duct tape feet.