So I have changed gyms recently. It was a tough decision and felt like a genuine break up. Oestracising myself from our happy little group and leaving the training studio for the last time was performed with a heavy heart and a sense of dreading that I would not have the motivation to push myself as hard as my trainer had. I was wondering if the new trainer would be able to work me as hard.
I am now paying for my doubt...after the second session with my new trainer two days ago my old nemesis DOMS has moved in and I am aching in the deepest darkest recesses of muscles that I clearly hadn't developed yet. My thighs are so tight that you could bounce a coin off them much like the sheets on a Marine's bunk. I am walking with awkwardly straight legs, not unlike a young Forrest Gump (before the corrective leg braces miraculously crumbled about his ankles and fell away, leaving him with such perfect alignment and muscle development that he was able to evade his would be agressors with ease). And because the ferocity of the spasms generated during a regular step forward are such that one could be forgiven for thinking that collapse is imminent.
I have thankfully found relief from my aching thighs in the form of a pair of beautiful, slouchy charcoal grey 5-inch hidden platform stiletto booties from Tony Bianco. These boots were introduced to my shoe family last winter as a placebo for the Louboutins that I had been lusting after. These babies have been on temporary hiatus; vacationing for a little R & R with my wonderful little European shoe repair man. He is a God. There is not shoe that he cant fix...not even me with my 7 pairs of stilettos which really only need the right heel tip replaced from a couple of years of favoring my left leg after previously mentioned incidents left me somewhat limpy, have stumped him.
Joy and rapture, they have returned and are of the optimal height, encompassing the perfect angle from the top of the heel to the platform in such a manner that all pressure is alleviated from my burning thighs.
Therapeutic, ergonomically designed and aesthetically pleasing. I may have found the perfect bootie.
5 inch heels make everything better.
They make you smile and swoon, they fill you happy feelings and their continued acquirement makes warm and fuzzy in your capitalist sensibility places. More importantly they turn you from a fictional ambulationally challenged southern boy whose older self will be played in Oscar winning perfection by Tom Hanks to a runway model...or at least someone with the shoes of one.
They fix shit.