Heels

 I used to not think of myself as a shoe person, but over time, I realize I have a finely cultivated collection of heels. First up?

The ones I wore for Fred and I's first date, exactly 364 days ago. Not that I'm counting. So yes, it was early February, and yes, even though we live in the 70% of the country NOT hit by this week's snowpocalypse, it was still cold. Did I mention the short black skirt I had on, too?? Oh, and clearly the heels (and skirt) worked :D

   

After a night of wearing heels like that, I wore shoes like this A LOT the next few days!  And yes, the heels seem to be torn up. This is on purpose. I have size 10.5 feet, as does KR. Its how we became friends, true story. As a result of this mammoth, and thus, unusual, size, lots of the cheap brands- payless, targay- don't make 10.5. Its 10 or 11. Pick. So I picked smaller for these, clipped out the heel, and thus spared my Achilles tendon many many blisters.

 The next two pairs are my usual go-to during the winter. If I'm going to be walking around a lot, I go for the Sperry's, aka boat shoes, aka most versatile things ever. I wear them with socks in the winter, barefoot in the summer. They go with jeans, dresses, and even khakis if I'm running late for Sunday morning church. According to NC natives, they're the official shoe of the state, and base on how many pairs of them I see on campus, I tend to agree. 

My other go-to shoes are my boots! I bought these on a whim, totally expecting to return them. Instead? Love. Adoration. Worship. I only wear them with jeans, and always under! Well, unless it dumped 6" of Boxing Day snow on you, but that's a rarity.  They're comfy enough to stand in, make little noise, and give me an extra heel to make me feel even more intimidating, if needed :)

 These I talk about often. I log my miles, wear them religiously only for running, hit heel first, pushing off with the ball of my foot. The amazing Mom got me contraptions to basically turn them into slip-ons, but I haven't done it. Yet.

And last, but certainly not least, are the actual heels that slip into all of these. Yes, I have a tattoo. Its easily hidden, obviously, not offensive, recognizes 3 years of my life, and makes the occasional great conversation starter. 

But back to the heels... These things have been dragging recently. The token example came this past Saturday when, about 1/2 mile in, I lost it. Couldn't breathe, broke down crying- well, as much as I had the water/energy to- and could feel any and all mental resolve to keep pounding the pavement slipping away. With 3.5 miles to go. It had nothing to do with running, everything to do with my life off the road, but when you're that stressed out, the mind-body connection takes over. That same drive that tells you "YOU CAN DO THIS!" can also tell you "what's the point?!" It sucks to listen to that, but its like a Patronus charm in Harry Potter- you have to have a stronger positive thought to overcome it. At that moment, I had zero happy.

Runs like that make you dread everything from figuring out a route to lacing up again. Tuesday morning, 2 days of no running, and I couldn't even figure out a route, much less a distance. I ended up walking out the door and running about 1.4 miles- up a long evil hill, then back down it. I'd never run up it, always taking the shorter, more compact hill , so it was a nice mental victory, pounding out the long slow hill. No clue pace, and that's how I wanted it to be. My podcast was weird. Really weird. I changed it at the top of the hill. Seriously, who talks about selection for the perfect astronaut by talking about "flautus" for 10 minutes?!?! 

After runs like this and the general feeling of this quite often, after this Saturday's race (omg so excited to do it, then tell you about it, and most importantly, NOT PUKE!), I'm diversifying. I'll still run, but more yoga, pilates, weights, cardio classes. Less "run x in y miles." Run when you feel like it. Stretch it out often. And as always...

Here's to the next TV timeout :)

-Syd