So this week has just been kind of ho-hum. I did, however, buy a new pair of running shoes. The time finally came because this week when I was running at the park. I about bit it on some wood planks from the wet surface/no traction combo, and after doing to quick look around to see if anyone saw me, I swore that I was going to get a new pair. If it says how long it's been since I bought new running shoes (and no, according the shoe guy, my Sketchers don't count), I was wearing my pair from 11th grade track. Folks, that was about 9 years ago. Browsing through the wall of shoes, I discovered a new found appreciation for my parents. I about crapped when I seen how much running shoes were. Lord have mercy on me for begging the 'rents for those $100 Nikes back in the day. Well, I found a pair on sale for $80, which the shoe guy also told me is people's biggest mistake–letting the price come before what's best for you, but you know–I just don't frickin care. When Nike starts making a good quality running shoe so I don't screw my feet up or do a full leg-in-the-air slip at the park for a cheaper price, I'll care. Until then I'll save $50 and go for the stlye that is about a year old instead of the new, up to the minute look. Oh, and answer me this, why could I not get Forrest Gump out my head the entire hour I was out doing my routine?
So I've been running a few days in them and they feel pretty good. Of course I have 2 huge blisters on the bottoms of feet–not from the running shoes, but from my black pointy toed- skinny heeled-knee high boots, which I'm sorry to say, hurt like hell. But, being the champ I like to think I am, I stuck some padded bandaids on them, gave 'em a good wrap in gauze, and laced up to go run. Of course I am highly regreting that decision right now. Between my feet looking like I just came from the burn unit, and the heeled limping I've been doing, I think I'm going to have to take a break from the trail for a couple of days.
I ate dinner tonight at a nice restaurant, and I think I did OK, until dessert came. Oh, the kryptonite was unvieled as the waiter brought out the dessert tray. Of course he stood right nex to me, like I had a big target on my shirt with the heading, "I'm on a diet, please try to screw me!" Well, I caved. I'm forgiving myself and moving on. I didn't get a full slice of whatever, but rather took a spoonful of the 3 the table ordered, so I got just a taste. I've done so well, I deserved that sliver of dark chocolate WHATEVER that was made with no flour and tasted like a bite of pure heaven. Besides, I paid for it dearly tonight with my blisters–karma much? I think it just might have been. But my oh my, was it worth it? Yes my friends, it was worth every little dark chocolate calorie.