These boots were (not) made for walking

I attended the Festival of Faith that was held here in the Archdiocese of Chicago this weekend. I attended both Friday and Saturday. First of all, I have to say that from the parking garage to the exhibition hall was a LOOONG walk. I would say a good 2 blocks. Granted, you were inside the whole time (thankfully since the wind chill these days was like 20 below), but do it a few times a day and it gets a bit much, considering you're walking around the exhibition hall a lot, too.

Anyway, on Saturday I wore a pair of medium heeled boots that I've worn many times before - very pretty boots and I love them. For high heels, I have always commented that they are remarkably comfortable. Well not this time.

When I arrived Saturday morning, I went to the hotel next door for breakfast, then walked over to the exhibition hall. I walked to one of the breakout sessions a little later, and then Michelle (my co-worker) and I walked all the way back to the hotel for lunch, then back to the exhibition hall (are you adding? this already is like 7 blocks). My feet were starting to kill me! Especially the toes of my right foot. I took off the boots and saw that my sock was bloody. The boots had given me a cut between my two toes.

Later in the afternoon, I had to walk back to the parking garage to take out some stuff in suitcases. Well by the time I got there, I couldn't TAKE IT anymore. I unzipped the boots, put them in a plastic bag I had in the trunk and carried them, in stocking feet, all the way back to the exhibition hall.

I was hoping I was walking fast enough (and with no eye contact) that people would not look at my tan-with-snowflake-designed socks on my feet. But I couldn't prevent it when I got in the elevator. I was in there with only another man and woman and all of a sudden she said, "Where are your shoes? You're feet will freeze!" I held up the bag and said, "I've been walking all day, I couldn't take it anymore." And left it at that.

When I got off the elevator, I walked all the way back to the exhibition hall, eyes locked straight ahead hoping that all the people going in the opposite direction, coming from both the Festival of Faith and the Golf Show that was also going on, would not look. My mantra was "don't look down, don't look down."

My last worry was that one of the so-called security people working the entrance would not stop me and say, "Sorry - no shoes, no service" type thing. But I devised the plan that if they DID question me, I'd just tell them I was part of the liturgical dancing troupe that just performed and that no shoes was part of my costume. Of course, what a horrible thing to tell a lie at the Festival of FAITH!

Anyway, I snuck past them all, and made it back. Later I went into the bathroom and because I didn't have any Band-Aids with me, but DID have a couple of Purell Handiwipes, I took off my boots and socks and put one on the bottom of each of my feet for some cushioning. After the sting of the alcohol on the cut wore off (forgot about that!) it certainly did help.

After attending the closing liturgy for the Festival, Michelle and I walked (well, I limped) all the way back to the parking garage (so what is this now, about a mile and a half for the day?) What was funny now is that the Festival of Faith was ending, but a Mardi Gras Party was just beginning. So as this group of holy (ahem), Catholic faithful was departing, cowboys, geishas, and other various costumed people were arriving. Us going one way in the corridor, the Mardi Gras people coming towards us. At this point you couldn't tell which side of the hallway the nuns in full habit belonged on!

Anyway, me and my toes are recovering.