In 102 days – or 3 months and 12 days – I will be getting married. I’m OK with this. The list of things to be done between now and then is staggering, but as long as there are more than 100 days to go, I will feel as if there is plenty of time. Lots of time to get the wedding dress finished and make sure all of the bridal party have their outfits sorted out. Time to book the DJ and the photographer, and get our invitations sent out. Time to arrange hair and makeup trials, speak to the florist, decide on guest favours. There is time for us to make up our friggin’ minds what we want the cake to look like (we both want something highly original, but we have differing ideas, and mine is definitely better).
As long as there are more than 100 days to go, there is loads of time to take care of this and everything else that I haven’t even thought of.
On Saturday, when there are 99 days left, I will probably go into total meltdown. I even know what the meltdown will be about. It won’t be about all of the stuff I just mentioned, which might stress me out, but I know it will get done on time. Most of it has been started in some form or another.
It’ll be about the shoes.
On Saturday, I will wake up and realize that I have only 99 days to find, purchase, and break in the perfect pair of shoes.
I hate shoe shopping with a passion. I find it next to impossible to find shoes that meet both of the following two basic criteria:
1) To be comfortable
2) To be pretty
When I look at the shoes that other women wear, it boggles my mind. How are these ladies able to squeeze their feet into tiny little capsules that compress their toes and are on four-inch heels, and still walk normally? If I tried to pull that off I’d stumble around like a drunk giraffe and then fall over in a very undignified manner and twist both of my ankles.
My feet, you see, are too important to me. I am addicted to running, so I kind of need my feet just for the sake of maintaining my sanity. I need to take care of them, so my shoes have to be comfortable and stable. I have to have space to wriggle my toes around.
“Open-toed shoes!” I hear you call out. Yes, open-toed shoes do tend to be more comfortable for me, and in the summer I wear them a great deal. Open-toed shoes do have a lot of potential to meet the “be comfortable” requirement. The “be pretty” requirement is another story altogether.
My feet are ugly. I do not say this with embarrassment, but with pride. My feet with their calloused heels, and with their blackened and missing toenails, are a testament to my running. They tell the story of many hours of training in the gruelling heat and the biting cold, the accomplishment of personal best times, the amazing feeling of triumph at half-marathon finish lines, and most importantly, the funds raised through my running to benefit people with autism.
Yes, I am proud of my feet in all their butt-ugly glory.
They look crap in open-toed shoes, though.
I am looking at getting running shoes for my wedding. On Friday (when I have 100 days to go) I will start my quest for running shoes with bling. Shoes that will be comfortable and look pretty, and have the added bonus of reflecting who I am.
Or maybe I should just go barefoot. No-one’s going to see my shoes anyway.
