My biggest concern going into the Olympics was that someone was going to get injured. As much as I enjoyed these last two weeks, if Crunchy had come home all gimpy I never never never would have forgiven the Olympics. NEVER! And while the Sabres appear to have escaped the Olympic in good health, one thing I absolutely did not consider was a potential injury to myself.
Yes, my name is Katebits, and I managed to injure myself while watching the gold medal game.
Here is my tale of woe:
First of all, you should know that unless I’m going somewhere very fancy, I almost always wear Dansko clogs. (I know. I’m so sexy. Try not to lose your head over it.) Anyone who’s ever worn a pair of Danskos knows that while they are the MOST comfortable shoes in the world….they are also oddly tippy. Every once in awhile, Danskos just screw you. (In fact, some of you who were at the blogger gathering a few weeks ago may recall me practically falling for no apparent reason. You probably all thought to yourself, “Wow. Kate is a total drunken mess.” BUT NO. That incident was because of my Danskos, not because of excessive drinking. I swear on the souls of my future children with Steve Montador, it was the shoes. [I'm not kidding about these shoes- they EFF YOU UP sometimes. My sister broke her foot while wearing them, and my friend Debby fell to the ground while holding her toddler. THESE SHOES ARE HARDCORE.])
Anyway, when Zach Parise (who I assume Darcy is feverishly trying to trade for as we speak) scored the uber-exciting tie goal in the waning seconds of the third period, I did what any fan would do. I leapt into the air, while screaming at the top of my lungs. Then, I did what only fans wearing Danskos would EVER do, which is land, tip, and immediately roll my left foot awkwardly inward.
That hockey game hobbled me. I’m limping, and sore, and all around pathetic. The worst thing about of all is that I’m STILL WEARING THESE DEVIL SHOES (because I don’t even own any other shoes [except heels], and because I love them, and seriously, when they’re not trying to kill me they are just so so so comfortable).
And that’s my story. I’m married to the Blobby of footwear and everything is terrible.