Life

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!

Life, Triathlon

Wants, Needs and In Betweens

Every human being needs air, water, food, shelter and sleep to survive.  Every human being also has a list of wants.  Sometimes they classify them as needs.  Some are simple, people want to be happy, to be loved, to surround themselves with good people.  Some want things like money, important sounding job titles, to look a certain way, to dress a certain way.  The list is endless.  Like everyone else, my wants have changed over time.  I used to want the big titles and the money.  I’m so glad that I made the decision to change all of that.  Now, my wants circulate more around time enjoying life.  I work to live, I no longer live to work.

When I started doing triathlon, I wanted a few things.  I wanted to put myself out of my comfort zone.  I wanted to embrace my fears and eventually overcome them.  I mean, I picked a sport that consists of three: Swimming, which I suck at and was terrified of for the longest time.  Cycling, which scares me only slightly less than swimming.  And  running, which I used to loathe, but now love, so I am good there.  In case you didn’t keep track, that’s 2/3 I struggle with.  Another thing I wanted, was to get healthier and lose weight.  I wanted to feel fit and strong.

I knew that to get healthier, I needed to eat better.  I used to eat McDonald’s for lunch several days a week and it would not have been unheard of to have it for dinner too.  I used to not care what went in my face as long as it tasted good and was quick and easy.  I’ve done well changing that for the most part, but it’s something I still struggle with.  I do want to slim down more.  I would love to see abs one day, but lately I have been somewhat complacent.  You see, I feel so much better than I used to.  I am sure that can even be better, but when I compare that to the trade-off, I am not sure it’s worth it.  Therein lies the problem.  I am, well, satisfied.  If I were to be honest with  myself, I would love to lose that last bit of chub around the old mid section.  I’d love to one day feel like I wasn’t two pounds of jelly in a one pound bag in my tri-suit…. But the thing is, I apparently don’t want it bad enough.  If I did, I would do more, I would do better.  I don’t want that more than I want the sweet taste of a chocolate ice cream cone from DQ.  I don’t want it more than zesty wings and amazing fries on Thursday nights.  I just don’t, and that’s ok.  For now.  I hope one day I want it badly enough to put in the hard work and sacrifice it takes to really get my body to the next level.  Until then, I just have to suck it up, buttercup…. Or better yet, suck it in, I guess!

What I do want bad enough, is to be a better triathlete.  For that, I am ready to put in the hard work.  (Yes, part of me hopes that hard work ends up pushing that other “better bod” goal along too.  Is that asking too much?)  I have gotten accustomed to waking up at 4:30 every morning and am slowing building up my workout time each day.  I start a new training plan in about a week and I can’t wait.  I’ve been hitting the pool more regularly, which is something I used to be horrible at and I plan to eventually join the group swim.  I am still hesitant to believe that I can really become good at the swim, or even comfortable with it, but I will do my best.

The bike is the one thing that I really know I can improve on.  My biggest obstacle there has been fear, especially since that one bad wreck.  I did pretty well on the group ride, which was great but it really reminded me that I need to be out on the road more.  I think I may have jumped from having not ridden in years, to clipped in to a road bike, a little too soon.  I decided to take it down a notch and start riding a standard commuter bike out on the streets.  I still work the road bike on the trainer and will join as many group rides as I can.  In the meantime, I plan to run errands, work on handling in general, and ride more in the rain with the commuter.  This will be my stepping stone.  Once I build a comfort level that I can translate to the road bike, it will be smooth sailing.  I hope.  Maybe one day, I will even shoot for a flying mount!  Ok, I need to slow my roll on that one.

When it comes to the run, I am pretty happy with where I am.  I still have mega room for improvement, but at least I have seen progress there.  It’s what I enjoy  the most and I know I won’t let that go.  My focus for running will be maintaining while I focus on the other two.

The other thing that I want, and maybe even need, is to be around more like-minded people.  As much as I would like to, I can’t convince existing friends and family to get into triathlon.  Nor do I think they would enjoy it much.  This is that challenge I didn’t even know I wanted for myself.  This is the extra bonus item I have gained along the way.  Putting myself out of a totally different type of comfort zone, has brought me the opportunity to relate to people who love this sport as much as, or more than I do.  It has given me the opportunity to fill my days with new energy and encouragement.  I always tell my son not to confuse wants with needs.  Not to make himself think he needs things that he can surely survive without, but I will admit there are some things above those five survival items.  For me, I need  all of this.  Not in the sense of life or death, but in the sense that it brings me joy…..and what is life without happiness?