I should have learned this lesson extremely well after walking the Bay to Breakers last year--in my converse. To be fair, we started walking at mile 3. Being the genius that I am, I brought the dogs along--and didn't think about how we would get back, as the Muni wasn't going to be a very dog friendly place post-race (think sardines in a can, then triple it). Total round trip: 9 miles in those damn shoes.
Oh but I didn't learn. Not the first time anyway. I wore those same beautiful, hurtful shoes to Disneyland. But by the afternoon of day 2, I was in podiatric hell. I decided to buy a new pair of shoes, even if all that was available were overpriced Nikes or something like that. Oh, if only they had overpriced Nikes of something like that! The only pair of adult shoes sold in Disneyland? Behold:
(And remember what I said about Disney characters.)
I wore the crap out of those shoes, and my feet were at least 35% more comfortable, making me at least 47% less irritable. But I forgive my converse. I still love them the most of all shoes. You'll see my feet in nothing but flip flops each summer, but every other time of year it's converse for me. I just don't learn. And now I have a pair of emergency Mickey Mouse shoes in the back of my car. Just in case.
1 comment:
are you SERIOUS? see, its stuff like this that makes life WAY more interesting than fiction. WAY more. those shoes are freaking priceless, deb. priceless.
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