Bright Shoes///Big City

A few weeks ago, when my friend Josh was in town, we all went out on a Saturday night. My experience with being the only girl on a "guy's night" (or at least a group of all guys) is that usually I will become Mother Goose instead of a fellow "rager".  By the end of the night, my premonition was fulfilled.
Now, on this blog, I talk a lot about fitness. I would consider myself in good shape. But by the time I got home, I would most certainly be questioning my fitness routine. After leaving the club we got in a cab and looked for a place to hustle some food.
As we left the all night taqueria, the boys were a little worse for wear to say the least. They both told me I was "so mean" over and over, and although they couldn't explain WHY "everything was my fault",in their mind, I had orchestrated their suffering single-handedly. 
Finding a cab, and getting it to stop for you are two different things. And after 10 minutes of trying and lots of whining from my cranky man-children forced me to consider walking home. It was only two miles, and I run at least that every day. And by the time a cab comes, we could already be home. 
So we started walking, and the farther we walked the more I decided TWO things. 
1. I'm not having children, because I can't stand the whining and complaining of even these two adult men who know better.
2. I am never wearing high heels again. Style be damned. 
That two mile walk became a two mile sausage grind of my feet through the holes in my peep toe pumps. There were tears in my eyes and blood in my shoes. I can't believe some people actually CHOOSE to work out in high heels.
The lights from our high rise came closer and closer, and I broke away from the monsters to run in my pumps to the gate and to our door.
My feet are still recovering, but I know now that a good way to test your own strength and character is to walk a mile (or two) in your own (high heel) shoes. 
Ever have a harrowing walk home after a night out? 
Live well, xx

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