Swift Scoots

I finally purchased a new pair of sneaks yesterday on my shopping excursion with Rocco.  We decided an outing was just what we needed to keep our minds distracted while we wait…and wait…and wait…to see where all these fun house negotiations take us.

When we were getting ready to put the Hoboken place on the market back in January, I put a whole mess o’ shit in storage.  Granted, I may have watched a few too many HGTV staging shows, but this place was going to be DEvine and DEcluttered if it killed me.  Come to think of it,  nearly did kill me as I was only two months off of chemo…but it was well worth it.

I was, perhaps, a little overconfident in my apartment’s sell-ability.  I put A LOT of clothes and shoes in storage.  I was certain we’d have sold and moved into our new home long before the end of March.  So I have exactly two short sleeve t-shirts, one skirt, one pair of flip flops, and all the sweaters, snow boots, and jeans a girl could ask for.  I’m facing a bit of an issue as the temperature continues to rise.

In a moment of sheer genius (yes, I’ll blame it on chemo brain…again) I sent all but one pair of pseudo sneakers off to the land of storage.  I guess I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to be playing tennis and power walking by March.  Hell, I’m not sure I was in March…but I am in May.  The weather is warm and I want to be outside and using my recovering muscles!  I’ve been faking it with these skinny-soled sneaks (and developing some big ass honking blisters) but I decided maybe I should just suck it up and buy a new pair.

I’m about as cheap as they come, so I’ve been scouring T.J. Maxx for weeks in the hopes of finding a bargain priced pair…to no avail.  After playing another sad set of tennis in my ridiculous footwear, I decided to bite the bullet and just go to an honest to goodness sports store…where I proceeded to buy the cheapest pair I could find.

I heart my new scoots.  I slapped them on earlier this afternoon and struck out to tour the Hoboken waterfront.  I felt like the fastest gal in Hoboken!  Wait now, that is certainly not true.  These people here run all the damn time.  Ok, the fastest 32-year-old cancer survivor in Hoboken.  On 14th Street.  With brown hair.  Married to Rocco.  Yes!  Definitely the fastest one of those.

Fast and squishy.  I forgot how fantastic a squishy supportive sole could feel!  I didn’t feel a single cobblestone, or brick, or sidewalk crack.  I was invincible!  I was ready to climb Mount McKinley!  I was half hoping to run into Patchouli Dude and his tightrope so I could achieve yet another impossible feat.  The trek down to Pier A felt like a relaxing saunter.  I even did a David Lee Roth kick at the end of the pier…just cause I’m that bad ass.

Then I ran up the stairs to Stevens…and nearly passed out.  Maybe not invincible.  I won’t be re-enacting any Rocky scenes this week, fantastic new scoots or not.  After an embarrisingly long session of wheezing, I managed to drag my ass back up to 14th Street  and my three flights of stairs.  The end.  I still don’t regret buying my Sauconys.  Today Pier A, tomorrow…THE WOLRD!  (or maybe just the stairs up to Stevens).