Don’t laugh.

Okay, I know that I am so hilarious that me saying that is the equivalent of telling my dog to not be excited when I come home. But really, I mean it.

I’ve decided that if I manage to run the half-marathon I am going to reward myself.  Now this does not mean if I show up, start

Bret Michaels

and eventually finish.  This means: I run it, I’m happy with it. I don’t break any part of my body, or hurt anything, faint, vomit, poop myself or publicly humiliate myself in any way, shape or form. I manage to not piss off the man-friend so much that he leaves me there. AND that I get to take my picture again with the Rocky statue.  City-Mouse, we may need to make that a yearly tradition. Not that I’ve ever seen even a single Rocky movie.

This particular course has bands along the way, and Bret Micheal’s will be performing at the end, so it will also mean that I have to enjoy that too.

My reward:


Stetson Alexa Rae Red Boots


I think it’s perfectly logical.  I fell in love with these last weekend.  It still makes me sad that I don’t own them.  Grant you, they are sold out of my size on, but if i try hard and don’t care what I pay, I’ll find them. Really.  I could be running along Route 209 in Hurley and see a horse that clearly needs to be tamed, and I don’t own the proper footwear for such a task.  Honestly, I think it’s a safety hazard. Really.  What am I going to do if that happens?  OR if I suddenly decide I have rhythm[1], and need to take a line dancing class?  I seriously need to fill out this section of my shoe wardrobe.


They are really pretty.  And I love the detail of the stitching, the precise shape of the toe, and the rich, demanding color of the leather itself. And I absolutely adore the shading on the sole of the boot (Is that called a sole?).  I know that I will walk all over them (there’s a lot of restraint in not making a Nancy Sinatra reference), but the shading will be there for the first few wearings, and I’ll know it.  It’ll make me smile to know that I even love the sole of these boots.

I love them. So I have to earn them.  Or if they aren’t around then, another pair that suits my needs.  Or slightly unhealthy shopping habits. Obsessions.  No, maybe needs.  There is that horse scenario.  Grant you, to tame a horse encountered on a run, I would first need to go home and change out of my running sneaks, and into the boots.  But the horse will wait.


[1] This is less likely than needing to tame a horse