Tag Archives: Pain Don’t Hurt

Day Three in Heels


If these had a Meowth and came in red, I would wear them every day of my life.

I went to high school in the late 90’s, when it was required by law that all girls shoes have at least a four-inch heel, because the Spice Girls were popular and nothing shows “Girl Power” as much as limping late into math class on a twisted ankle in sweet black stretch knee-high dragon patterned boots from Hot Topic.

But in high school, walking to math class was about as far as I ever had to go, so it was easy to strut around in ridiculous heels.  Once I got to college, I switched to sturdy, mid-calf Doc Martens, dependable punk boots I would stand at one of my several low-wage jobs in all day and dance in all night.

But now that I have a job that requires me to sit at my desk all day, I’m really enjoying wearing heels.  The furthest I have to walk is from the bus to my office, and yesterday, when I was wearing my Betsey Johnson booties and skinny black slacks, I just about caused a traffic accident from all the drivers turning to stare.  Yeah, I felt awesome.

What DIDN’T feel awesome was when I strut my stuff down to the post office, which gave me a blister and reminded me why I stopped wearing heels.  But damn, I looked good, and a little ego can balm any wound.

The windmill worked wonders for my waist, but that’s about all I can say.  Maybe if I kept doing them longer, I might see some more serious results, but seeing as how I pulled my back and tortured my neck doing them, the first time,. I think I’ll try something else.

To be honest, I’m really not a fan of workouts.  I had one I followed for a little while, but when we moved, I fell out of practice.  Ian goes to the gym, but I’m just waiting out spring so that I can get back on my bike.    I like my exercise to have a purpose, like going to the store to buy chips.  I like to get somewhere.  I like to see scenery and I like to go at my own pace. And when I’m on my bike, I can daydream, I can sort through the day’s worries, plot new story ideas or just breathe deep and not think at all.  When I do a workout routine, I’m just watching TV, which is something I do too much of anyway.

So maybe biking isn’t not ladylike, but it sure as hell beats laying on the floor writhing around like I’m possessed by Satan.

Ice Station Bathtub

“Most women complain they cannot take cold baths.  Not because of ill health, but because the shock of the cold water is too much for them.  I have a way of getting into my cold bath that overcomes the shock . . .I grasp the sides of the tub and lower my body into the water so that the base of my spine touches the water first.  Then I lower the upper parts of my body until the water touches the base of my brain, at the same time splashing my chest and throat.  Then I let my feet down and am wet all over”  Edna Hopper Wallace, “My Secret of Youth and Beauty” (1925)

I’ve been dreading this one all week.  My apartment doesn’t have a bathtub, so I had to wait until I was in a hotel to try this one out.  A hotel, I might add, in Maine.  In January.

When I was a kid, my sister Hilary, our friend Lando and I used to do Polar Bear Jumps at the Hidden Lake girl scout camp in the Adirondacks   We’d get up at 6 a.m, sing a Polar Bear song, then jump into a freezing cold mountain lake and swim until our lips turned blue. Maybe three summers worth of that explains why, as I edge up on 30, I still occasionally get carded for R-rated movies.

Matthew, my assistant/writing partner/BFF, helped fill my bathtub my hotel ice and cold water.  I followed Edna’s instructions carefully, and ten seconds later was screaming “TAKE THE PICTURE TAKE THE PICTURE TAKE THE PICTURE!!!!!”


The Blogger, Wet, Miserable and Possibly Insane

I have never been so cold in my entire life.  I don’t care what Edna said, easing my body–no matter what part first–into a bathtub filled with ice water cannot be not-shocking.  My core temperature immediately dropped to absolute zero.  I felt like my flesh was being scraped off with a vegetable peeler. I catapulted out of the tub, grabbed a towel and stood shivering in the elevator until I could get to the hot tub, where I shivered for a good two minutes until my body temperature rose back up to just above freezing.

On the plus side, Matthew did say I had a nice glow in my cheeks.  I thanked him through chattering teeth.