The last few weeks have been filled with all things shoes and feet. Not sure why – maybe my feet are telling me something.
“I have come to an age where I am comfortable in my own...shoes!” My friend proclaimed. We were walking down the street and a woman 3-inch heels teetered by.
She further exclaimed “Get it? Instead of saying ‘I’m comfortable in my own skin,’ for me it’s ‘I’m comfortable in my own shoes!’”
Although I did agree with her, I thought of how I often longingly gaze at all the pretty too-high-for-me shoes in the stores and magazines and wish I could wear them. Yet I know deep down I have likely missed the boat for uber-fancy shoes: I have no practice wearing them (‘better late than never’ shoe-fashionistas everywhere would say), and my body/back/legs wouldn’t be able to handle anything other than what I typically wear now.
We were wearing our trusty, comfortable, flat, loafer-like shoes. Trendy yet still ‘in style,’ our shoes are best for us and our lifestyle; we are always on the go. We don’t need 3-inch heels to trip us up or slow us down. And yes, I know there are women who can go for miles all day in their heels, and I’m not saying those who do are less busy, but those angle-twisting ‘ways’ are not for us, not anymore. We used to wear those, back in the day, we reminisced, but we’re happier with who we are and what we wear, now.
But these days, I don’t have time to be worrying about my heel catching in a crack in the pavement. I’m busy! I have stuff to do! Being comfortable, safe and secure without risk of tripping and falling (mind you, I can do that even without heels) is what’s important to me. Sure I love little kitten heels, glamorous uber-expensive high heels, and I long for the days when I could get away with wearing cheap barely-there flats, like I did in my teens. But time and necessity has changed my needs and priorities.
All this shoe-enlightenment came on the heels (yes, pun) of my months-long struggle with a sore foot and quest for finding better shoes. On a Friday I was told by a doctor it was likely plantar fasciitis, and on the following Saturday, I tripped and fell, twisting both ankles and spraining the same foot!
Great, just great. I REALLY don’t have time for all this, I moaned as I limped home. It was putting a cramp in my style, a limp in my step, and a pain in my butt (literally, as my limp was aggravating my sciatica).
In the end, I had to rest my sprained/plantar fasciitis-plagued foot for a few days, and after the black-and-blue bruising faded, I was somewhat good as new.
Good thing my shoe closet doesn’t consist of only heels.
Two weeks later the city was abuzz with overnight snow warnings. We ended up getting only two centimeters, but my tendency to trip and fall and seriously injure something, even without snow, had me pulling out my trusty hiking boots. My dad bought them for me for a group hiking expedition up when I was 14 years old. I know those mathematically keen will figure it out my age.
The boots have been everywhere – through the interior of BC, to Alberta, and to the many Gulf Islands. Oh, if these books could talk…
They’re comfortable, dry, sturdy, and dependable. I’ve never had a blister with them, I’ve never twisted an ankle with them, and I’ve never tripped and fallen with them.
And with my foot being ‘challenged,’ the boots worked out fine – no problem.
So to say I am comfortable in my own shoes – or boots, as it were – is an understatement. I truly am happy with me, who I am, and what I wear. I'm not out to impress, I'm out to have fun - and be comfortable!
Maybe all these shoe/feet issues/enlightenments/encounters mean something. Maybe I need to slow down and take better care of myself (yet again, another reminder). Without happy, healthy feet, there is so much I would miss, otherwise. I got stuff I gotta do – things to see, places to go!
And maybe I, too, have come to a point in my life where I am comfortable in my own shoes, or boots, and forget about the heels.
And keep going......
(My old trusty hiking books - approximately 28 years old)
Thanks for reading! Lisa