Life

I May Never Heel Again!

When I started my professional career, I had never really worn high heels with the exception of an occasional wedding.  In those instances, the shoes came right off as soon as possible.  When I did start wearing heels, I purchased those really fat heels so that I didn’t look like I was walking on a tightrope the whole time.  I wore those chunky monkeys for several years before graduating to the real deal.

At one point in my career, I knew I was moving up the proverbial ladder, so I wanted to start dressing more sharply.  I purchased a new wardrobe, accessories, and of course shoes!  I began to don stilettos to work on a daily basis, only trading them in for sneakers on casual Friday.  Eventually, I even wore them on casual day, I would just wear a pair of heels that were a little bit more funky or colorful.  I got to where I could wear them all day with no issues at all.  I walked in them as naturally as I walked in bare feet.  I loved my heels.  I loved buying them.  I loved wearing them.  I loved how they made me feel.  For some reason, at the time, wearing the heels made me feel powerful.  I think part of it had to do with the fact that I was succeeding in a male dominated industry and when I wore heels it made me that much taller then my hot headed boss.  Body language says a lot, and when you literally look down on someone, it can have an affect.

I eventually progressed into wearing heels out more too.  I have never been one to have tons of nights out on the town, but when I did go out, I wore heels.  Girls night out? Heels.  Birthday party (even a kid’s)?  Heels.  Date night? Of course heels!  Run a 5k?…. Ok, not heels, but I did have one pair that I was so comfortable in that I swear I could have run one wearing them.  My shoe collection began to look like the stereotypical woman’s collection.  It was many pairs of heels in different heights, textures and colors.  I really did love my heels, some of which I wore way beyond their life span.  It’s tough to find comfortable pairs sometimes.  Heels and I were seemingly inseparable.  Even when I got into running and started triathlon,  when some people start making athletic wear their everyday apparel, I wore my heels.

And then, it happened.  One night in the middle of the night, I went to stretch my feet and had the absolute worst calf cramp I had ever had!  It was like I was in a sci-fi movie and had just been hit with a curse that was transforming me into stone, starting with my calf!  It seized up like a rock.  I actually shouted out loud, waking poor Darin in the process.  He helped me try to rub out the pain and eventually, it calmed back down and I was able to go back to bed.  I chalked it up to being caused by the way I stretched my leg and went about my business.  It happened again, a few nights later.  I was in agony!  I called my sister over and she used some massage techniques to ease the surrounding muscles.  I figured I was good and expected no more issues.  Boy, was I wrong.  It took some time but eventually, I had the same problem again.  My calf complete seized up in the middle of the night.

I did some research online (of course) and ended up stumbling on some information regarding what high heels do to the anatomy and I was forever changed.  I went shopping for cute flats and any shoes appropriate for work that didn’t have a high heel.  What I didn’t account for, was that all my pants were hemmed to wear with heels.  I had to have them all hemmed.  It took some getting used to, but I slowly acclimated to not wearing heels at work.

It had been many months since I had donned a pair of heels, when my son informed us of his fifth grade dance.  He didn’t want us to dress super fancy but thought nice jeans and heels would be appropriate.  Jeans and heels were one of my favorite staple items.  I love the way a flashy pair of heels looks with a great fitting pair of jeans.  I went for the big guns.  My 4.5 inch Jessica Simpson glitter covered shoes that graduated slowly from rose gold to a deep bronze.  I love these shoes.  I wore them to my brother’s wedding and danced for hours on end in them.  They are sexy, they are flashy, they are beautiful and comfortable.  They are perfect.  Well, they were.  When I put them on, I had all kinds of bodily reactions.  My feet cringed.  If my calves had eyes, they looked at me like I was crazy.  My walk was nowhere near the perfect saunter I had developed over the years.  I thought that it had just been a while, and if I gave it time, I would be back to my old heel wearing self.  We went out to dinner and just walking though the parking lot was hard.  We headed to the dance, and I was dreading the thought of having to even remotely consider dancing in them.  I told myself that if my boy wanted to dance, I would have to suck it up.  Thankfully, he didn’t want to dance.  I think he knew that when I cut loose, he was bound to get embarrassed.  I held on and finally made it to the car.  Once there, I immediately kicked the shoes off, looking at them as if they had just insulted my mother.

I have decided to clean the closet out and donate just about every pair of heels I own.  I may hold on to the  Jessica Simpsons should the occasion ever arise that I need to wear amazing heels, for not more than 30 minutes.  I think that society has trained us to think that heels are sexy, yet more professional.  It’s a funny juxtaposition.  Only once I started doing triathlon and trying to take better care of my body did I realize the damage they could do.  I do miss the look, and sometimes how they made me feel, but I certainly don’t miss the anguish they eventually brought on.  Sure, there are stretches I can do to offset the issue, but who has time for that?  I don’t stretch enough in general as it is.  Sometimes we have to give up one thing we love in order to move on to something we could love even more… like Vibrams.  Yeah, I went to the opposite end of the spectrum and now I love me some Vibrams!

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