Vegas

Only one closet of several, lined with dresses
and shoes, none of which belong to me

In the Bay Area, this past weekend was the Head of the Port, held in Port of West Sacramento, hosted by River City Rowing Club.  Results are posted here.  It looked like a good day for Lake Merritt and the Cal Lightweight men who raced several heavyweight crews.

Instead of doing anything productive, such as racing at Head of the Port, the weekend was spent in Las Vegas for a good friend's bachelorette party.  Living it up in style at the newly-built Planet Hollywood Westgate Tower suites, there was plenty of sleeping space, alcohol, junk food, and bathroom space for ten girls.  If you have not figured out by now, I am an old lady who is married, has a kid, and just struggling to get by with a clean house.  Partying and Vegas are not really ever in the cards.  So this trip was a trip to see how this whole Vegas thing is really done.

Going out to town required a three to four hour getting-ready, make-up period and the experienced party girls made it look like a controlled massive production line--shower, make-up, dress, hair.  Apparently, for girls, it is key to look the "part" in order to cut lines at clubs and get free admission. To my chagrin, my one-and-a-half inch black heels that I normally wear to work was not going to cut it.  After much peer pressure, we went shoe shopping (luckily, the Miracle Mile shops were right downstairs).

I have this bad habit of acquiring new shoes when I travel.  My husband who owns maybe three pairs of shoes and who wears his shoes until the soles are falling apart, always has this skeptical look of when accosted by the latest shoe acquisition.

Latest and greatest (and absolutely non-function) pair of shoes

Unlike the last pair of shoes I brought home from Colorado, this pair from Aldo were wedges, which, as I was informed, are quite in-style now, and had a heel about three-and-a-half inches.  Trust me, there were many other more extreme choices, but this was the pair in which I would not break an ankle and which I might possibly where on another occasion.

The first night was spent at two clubs.  By the third hour, I felt like Cinderella who had managed to squeeze her foot into the glass slipper, but found out that the more she stands, the larger her feet become.  Every other woman was wearing shoes like mine or even more ridiculously taller and uncomfortable.  If there was a woman there who said that her feet did not hurt, she is LYING.  The absolutely stupid things women do for beauty.

The second night, I ditched the new shoes and wore my plain black, grandma shoes.  Much more comfortable.  Thank goodness.

Picture with the bachelorette and grandma shoes

Shoes

Monday:  This morning, I was still somewhat recovering from the weekend and still adjusting to the altitude.  Ever feel like you have a headache and mild nausea like you are car sick?  Might be from the altitude!

The day started off with a steady state run in the nice suburban neighborhoods of Louisville, Colorado.  After working all day, I managed to sneak a quick trip up to Boulder.  Now, Boulder is more of what I thought the rest of Colorado would look like--beautiful scenery, mountains, and lean, in-shape people walking around.

View of the mountains on the way to Boulder

I made a stop at the Boulder Running Company, located right off of the main road, US-36.  The store was an impressive running boutique store that offered quite the selection of running shoes and accessories.  When you think of a running store, a small store like TranSports in Berkeley or Forward Motion in Danville comes to mind.  The Boulder Running Company was about three times the size of a typical boutique store, but obviously, no where near the size of a Sports Basement or Sports Authority.  The walls of the store were lined with running posters and I even found one of my sources of inspiration, Haile Gebrselassie.

Posters of Haile Gebrselassie and Steve Prefontaine in the Boulder Running Co.

Next to the signed poster of Gebreselassie is a larger poster of Steve Prefontaine, a popular American, University of Oregon-Bill Bowerman-born runner who ran in the late 1960s and early 1970s, but died an early and tragic death.  One of my favorite running books is Bowerman and the Men of Oregon: The Story of Oregon's Legendary Coach and Nike's Cofounder, which talks about the rise of running at the University of Oregon and about some of the school's stars including Prefontaine, Frank Shorter, and Kenny Moore.

My husband swears that whenever I travel, I always come home with a pair of new shoes.  I tell you that he is exaggerating.  I, like many other normal women, love to go shoe shopping.  I, unlike many women, do not come home with shopping bags full of shoes.  He should considering himself lucky.  Instead, I would prefer to spend my money on other things, such as food, books, and new rowing gear.

Unfortunately, my husband might be right this time because I am coming home with a pair of new trail running shoes (and a few pairs of compression socks and a box of Easy Laces), purchased from the Boulder Running Company.

I had better come home and hit the trails running or else my husband will never forgive me for spending an arm and a leg for shoes!