Wednesday, September 12, 2012
I'm Too Sexy For My Shoes
This is my new wardrobe addition. Don't you love it? It's the sexist thing in my closet.
These days, these are the shoes I get to wear every day. With skirts, dresses, capris. I couldn't be more stylin.
The first day of school, a teacher said he thought that a) I had chosen a terrible pair of socks that did nothing for my outfit and then b) I had forgotten one.
It would seem that my ankle is a little damaged from life. Nothing exciting to tell you, about how I was diving off a cliff and kicked the side, or I was being mugged and to thwart the robbery, I roundhoused the guy and knocked him out or even that I fell off a stripper pole.
It's complicated and doesn't have a simple answer like a sprain, or a break, so I'm just not explaining it. Don't ask.
The ortho guy said to stop doing anything with impact, no stirrups when I ride, no standing when I spin and ice it twice a day for 10 minutes and come back in a month.
Oh and wear that svelte stocking all day.
The no stirrups thing comes at a perfect time because I've been riding bareback once a week anyway because I think it's improving my riding, so now I have no choice but to improve because with or without a saddle, I have no stirrups. So far, so good. No wild horse chases. No hijinks. No near casualties.
Not standing when I spin is also not a bad thing. I can still tell people in my class to do it, but I won't do it myself. And it doesn't mean I have to stop teaching the class. Another plus.
I was afraid I'd get a boot and have to keep it immobilized and that wasn't really going to work for me. I'm not the Driving Miss Daisy kind of girl and it's my right foot, so a boot would have meant no driving. I was ready to negotiate with the doctor. I came prepared with all sorts of "how about" and "what if we try" and "I see your big heavy boot and I raise you one day without running".
He must have seen me coming because he didn't suggest anything outrageous. And he said "I have a lot of patients like you".
I like to think he meant the lean, mean fitness machine kind of patients who need to exercise in order to function.
Not the neurotic, 100 mph nitwits who hop on and off the table like a jackrabbit every time he asks.
In the meantime, I'm the teacher who shows up to a parent meeting in a pretty dress and sneakers.
I am one classy beeee-otch.
Linking up here. and here