Being barely a 5'5 gal who always wanted to be 5'7 means that my closet is fully of heels, heels and more heels. The only other options that exist are flip flops and a pile of trainers...neither of which I can acceptably rock at work without a weekend pass, crutches or barricading myself in my office with a "no visitors" sign.
With that background, having a sore hip has been a bit interesting to say the least. I've dug out the most comfortable pair of heels (they do have a Nike Air cushion) and have made the best of it. A far more logical person would have hit the shoe store to pick up a pair of flats...but who said I was ever logical.
The reality that heels do not equal fun right now was made apparent when I ran two blocks down K Street this evening in the pouring rain to catch the bus. Though I made the bus, my hip was not thrilled with the unexpected activity. I guess I should stand proud --- all 5'5 of me --- and pick up a pair of flats...since a limping chick in heels isn't all that cute.
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