#BlogLife40 - Walking on broken glass

Remember that Annie Lennox song about heartbreak? It's really catchy. I was trying to find a suitable title and that was only one that fit anywhere close.

I'm not going to be talking about heartbreak. Today it is about obsessive workouts. 

The reason I am not a feet/shoes person is because at my most compulsive phase I did a lot of walking and for some reason, my feet bruise really easily.

I used to go for hourly walks at night. I would walk, back and forth to College which was about 45mins-ish. My feet were cut up and bleeding, a large majority of the time.

I still have scarring and bruises from that era and that was so long ago. I never wore stilettos because I couldn't walk in them but I did wear block heels.

Nothing was comfortable. I tried trainers for a while but I felt so unclassy. I just remember limping a lot of the time and yet I still carried on walking everywhere.

The reason being that at that point in my life. I didn't want any body fat at all, such was my preoccupation with weight. I did actually achieve that on my tummy area but not in a healthy sustainable way.

I just couldn't halt from comparing myself to women around me. They were all effortlessly skinny and I looked at food and just piled on the pounds.

Now I just wear loose fitting ankle boots and they are sooo cosy but I still used to panic about what on earth I would couple with a dress or a skirt?

My boots were casual out the outfits were smart. They just didn't go together. I recall buying these luxurious black velvet thin mini chunky heeled shoes..

And wearing them to a club with friends. I honestly thought I had broken them in prior and I did wear a mini foot slip to go with them..

But within possibly fifteen minutes my feet were in agony. I couldn't dance, there was no place to sit. I was miserable and the sweetest guy, not in a romantic sense,

But in a caring way, was trying to cheer me up. He kept me from losing my mind as we walked to the car and he let me sprawl out on the backseat with my feet up and my shoes off.

Everybody was laughing as I walked to my door with my shoes removed and promptly threw them in the bin. They didn't cost an obscene amount.

I think they were on sale £20? I reckon. I just wanted that to be the last time I suffered to look good. It wasn't but that was my hope.