I Sometimes Wear Women’s Heels for Fitness

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Abstract

als on the Bike of Fitness were not designed for sock-usage. My feet would constantly slip off of them causing me to get distracted and miss another Arsenal goal. This was unacceptable. At first, I considered wearing my shoes. However, every time I step outside, they — inexplicably — accumulate three cubic feet of suburban Maryland soil. Bringing them into the sun room would be folly since it would take <a href="https://brettchrest.com/christmas-tree/">Roomba</a> 18.3 hours to clean up 37.2% of the dirt. Sure, I could vacuum it myself but I’m not really an “effort” kind of guy. I briefly considered moving the TV to warmer climes, but again: effort.</p><p id="8cd3">So I quit. I’m good at quitting. I quit being a vegetarian in less than a day. My dalliance with yoga was fleeting. Still, when it came to pass that not only those treacherous stairs became an issue, simply going to get more delicious Tostitos got me winded, I knew I had to try harder.</p><h1 id="dbfb">The solution</h1><p id="8399">My wife and I have the same sized feet. In fact, the salesperson we bought our ski equipment from was flummoxed that we had the same exact boots (which we have used once in more than ten years). I’m passively aware that my wife has “heels”, which appear to be nothing more than regular shoes with superfluous extensions at the rear of the foot. So I got to thinking — what if the “heel” could catch the back of the pedal? My feet would be secure and I would be warm(er). I could devote my attention to the random English Premiership soccer that was on

Options

TV. After all, that is the real priority here. Fitness is just a crutch to make sure I don’t have to take a 30-second timeout after giving the kids their goodnight hugs.</p><p id="1be1">And it worked! I am a genius. In the midst of watching West Ham United get throttled by Manchester City, my feet were glued to the pedals. It was just like those fancy shoes that real bike riders use to click into their pedals during wholly unnecessary 200km rides.</p><h1 id="f7c2">Walking</h1><p id="dad3">When I was working in the District of Columbia, I saw women walking in heels. They would ably traverse long distances without suffering severe tendon issues. Surely, an elite athlete such as myself could make it from the bedroom — where my wife’s closet is — to the sun room — where the bike is. I was wrong.</p><p id="65a4">How on Earth do people walk in these things? Our sun room is roughly 25 yards from the bedroom. By the third FOOT, I had realized that I had made a poor life decision, and would be begging for forgiveness from my ankles for weeks. Thankfully, both rooms are on the same floor. If I had to tackle stairs, I would have several crushed vertebra, endured a compound fracture in both legs, and be staring at several months of surgery. It would be a rather ironic end to trying to get healthier.</p><p id="e0a8">The fix was easy: carry the shoes out to the sun room once, use them to ride the bike while watching meaningless TV, burn calories, and then just leave those devil’s inventions next to the bike that goes nowhere.</p></article></body>

Hear me out — this is actually a brilliant solution to a complicated fitness problem.

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I do not like being cold, but I like to think that I am, at least kinda, into fitness. Even though the winters in suburban Maryland are not the same as those in Edmonton, Canada, they are cold enough for me to not want to go outside. Therefore, my robust (one time a lunar cycle) running schedule is suspended. The first few weeks of winter are met with a sense of health ennui. After awhile, when I need to rest after walking down the stairs to the basement, I decide to take action.

I took the stationary bike out of mothballs and plopped it into our sun room. This is, arguably, the coldest room in the house, but the one with the best TV/stereo. Priorities — you have to give a little to get a little. I found myself plodding along on the bike in 14 layers of expensive workout gear while watching things like Leeds United getting blasted by Arsenal. Seriously, it is frequently (men’s) running tights, sweatpants, one of those tight undershirt things, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt (the shirt Triple Crown). Oh, and the socks.

The problem

For some reason, the pedals on the Bike of Fitness were not designed for sock-usage. My feet would constantly slip off of them causing me to get distracted and miss another Arsenal goal. This was unacceptable. At first, I considered wearing my shoes. However, every time I step outside, they — inexplicably — accumulate three cubic feet of suburban Maryland soil. Bringing them into the sun room would be folly since it would take Roomba 18.3 hours to clean up 37.2% of the dirt. Sure, I could vacuum it myself but I’m not really an “effort” kind of guy. I briefly considered moving the TV to warmer climes, but again: effort.

So I quit. I’m good at quitting. I quit being a vegetarian in less than a day. My dalliance with yoga was fleeting. Still, when it came to pass that not only those treacherous stairs became an issue, simply going to get more delicious Tostitos got me winded, I knew I had to try harder.

The solution

My wife and I have the same sized feet. In fact, the salesperson we bought our ski equipment from was flummoxed that we had the same exact boots (which we have used once in more than ten years). I’m passively aware that my wife has “heels”, which appear to be nothing more than regular shoes with superfluous extensions at the rear of the foot. So I got to thinking — what if the “heel” could catch the back of the pedal? My feet would be secure and I would be warm(er). I could devote my attention to the random English Premiership soccer that was on TV. After all, that is the real priority here. Fitness is just a crutch to make sure I don’t have to take a 30-second timeout after giving the kids their goodnight hugs.

And it worked! I am a genius. In the midst of watching West Ham United get throttled by Manchester City, my feet were glued to the pedals. It was just like those fancy shoes that real bike riders use to click into their pedals during wholly unnecessary 200km rides.

Walking

When I was working in the District of Columbia, I saw women walking in heels. They would ably traverse long distances without suffering severe tendon issues. Surely, an elite athlete such as myself could make it from the bedroom — where my wife’s closet is — to the sun room — where the bike is. I was wrong.

How on Earth do people walk in these things? Our sun room is roughly 25 yards from the bedroom. By the third FOOT, I had realized that I had made a poor life decision, and would be begging for forgiveness from my ankles for weeks. Thankfully, both rooms are on the same floor. If I had to tackle stairs, I would have several crushed vertebra, endured a compound fracture in both legs, and be staring at several months of surgery. It would be a rather ironic end to trying to get healthier.

The fix was easy: carry the shoes out to the sun room once, use them to ride the bike while watching meaningless TV, burn calories, and then just leave those devil’s inventions next to the bike that goes nowhere.