Dress up. Dress down.
Change shoes. About three times a day. Another summer working in Boston.
I love shoes, but this is getting to be a little too much. It feels like I consistently have three pairs of shoes on me that I'm actually wearing. Needless to say, my outfits are changing, too, almost a la Britney in "Womanizer." Almost, because I'm keeping most of my clothes on.
It doesn't go so far as "role play" [and it's not nearly as kinky]. It's just what anyone who bikes to work deals with - a change of more professional clothes carefully folded and packed in my bag with gym clothes, running shoes, and the odd energy bar. And when I scoot into the office, I change out the helmet for a ponytail, shorts for a skirt, and Sidis for heels.
The first time I've been in heels in what seems like forever, I've been feeling sort of tall this week. Which, at 5'3", is absurd. Walking around in a skirt and button down shirt added more weird to the whole mix. I might even have looked lawyer-ly, shockingly enough.
And at the end of the day, I switched out the heels for Sidis, and clipped back into my bike only to change into running shoes 15 minutes later.
In the grand scheme of things, running is closer to biking than, say, burying my nose in trial briefs and motions. Or so it would seem. Too bad I'm more comfortable with the latter two activities than the former. Stuck on a treadmill, following a running plan supplied by Jones, I tried not to hate life too much. At least it wasn't that crowded; only a handful of people got to watch a cyclist trying to learn how to run.
Predictably, I couldn't wait to switch out of those shoes for the cleats. At the end of the day, finally taking off my shoes for good, I wiggled my toes as I stretched and sighed. Another relatively physically productive day [at least my legs think so].
Summers mean shoes, shoes, and more switching out of shoes. Hopefully I'm on my way to getting shredded in the process.