Friday, March 13, 2009
These Shoes Were Made for Pain
I was reminded once again this weekend why it is I don't wear high-heeled shoes. Well, there are actually quite a few reasons in my personal case. However, none was more obvious than when lying on my back in bed Friday morning, just wanting so badly to make it downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. I was unable to move because of the excruciating pain I inflicted upon myself the previous evening by wearing heels. To answer a few questions I am sure you already have: yes, I can be a hypochondriac and yes, the heel was in fact above one-inch. This was not an instance where my hypochondria was in full swing though because the shoes I wore out had a little over a three-inch heel. This is a little over three-inches above the average heel size I normally wear out. I am a flats kind of gal (to give off the perception of being graceful, I actually like to say I am a ballet flats kind of gal). The most heel I will venture out in is that of a wedge or thick two-inch heel. So when Thursday night rolled around, my feet went into a sort of height and support shock. Not since the days of costume boxes and dress-up fashion shows had my feet been elevated to such a height, especially with their only support being the width of a pencil.
The thing of it is, I really do wish I could wear this fun and fancy footwear. The main reason I have always steered clear of them though, is not because I am tall by any means. Flats are just a better match for me because they keep me closer to the ground, so should a trip or fall occur (which the probability of such an occurrence with my coordination is very high), I may be able to escape with less injuries. That's why the last thing I concerned myself with Thursday was making sure I had a sufficient supply of pain relievers, heating pads, and walking aids available for the next morning. As a result of such neglect, I had a streamline of pain that went from the tips of my toes to the top of my neck. Those heels had a whole lot of girl to support. I was especially glad that I chose that day to be adamantly productive too. Post-it notes and messages surrounded me to reminding to shut off the computer and tend to my tasks at hand. I could not let those little vibrant colored papers down. It was time to build up some endurance in my flippers. I walked all through campus and Downtown Columbia, and I feel that I am better for it. After all what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Well I am still alive, albeit a bit sore still. However, I think did acquire some strength. The strength to say "no" to any heel shoe no matter how much it may complement the rest of the outfit. Sometimes you just have to go with practicality and agility. In case you were wondering, there was a small victory to be had: no falls were experienced. Maybe I also acquired some grace with that strength. My knees and shoulders can only hope.