A well-heeled girl hits a low point

I've been having a low week. A very low week. I've felt flat. And my emotions have been constantly flip-flopping. I know what I need to elevate my mood; what I need to give myself a boost.
But I can't have them. Not yet.
My bad week started on Sunday when I met up with some girlfriends to go for a run. We met at one of their houses on a quiet, countryside road off Highway 15 in the city's east end.I was feeling good. It had rained the night before and the air felt damp and cool. My asthmatic lungs felt free. Breathe in. Breathe out.
I was so happy to be running and so happy to be chatting with my girlfriends, whom I don't get to see often.
And then - thud.
I had been running (and chatting) when my left foot hit the road's soft shoulder and I went down.
My left knee smacked loose gravel and my left hand automatically went down too to try and keep the rest of my body from tumbling. I heard my friend ask if I was OK.
Scraped hand. Dirt on my legs. Is that blood on my knee? Is that a piece of rock embedded in my hand? Wait, is that a second splotch of blood on my knee? I'm bleeding? From running?
Instead of having a motor mouth, I should have just been motoring and I wouldn't have fallen.
My pride kept me from stopping. I shook it off and kept going - another 9.5 kilometres in about an hour.
It wasn't until I finished the run and I was driving home that I realized it wasn't my knee or hand that was sore. It was my ankle.
When I got home, I limped into my house. Even when I've had low self-esteem, I've always, as silly as it sounds, loved my small ankles. No cankles here. (Dad: a cankle is when your calf doesn't taper at the ankle. Your leg looks like one long log. (Calf + ankle = cankle.)
But today, my plum-sized ankle had swollen to the size of an apple.
My husband ordered me to RICE it - rest, ice, compression and elevation.
(Did he forget we have an non-stop 22-month-old? I haven't had rest in two years. And I use all of our ice for my Diet Cokes. Compression? Decompression would be good. And elevation? Yes! That one I can definitely do if I can do it with shoes.)
I will always happily put on a pair of high-heel shoes to make myself feel better. Red patent-leather heels have chameleon-like powers. They can make you feel like a sophisticated lady or a sex machine.
"You know, Sarah," my husband said, while examining my ankle, "you're going to have to wear flat shoes to work tomorrow."
Not once, in nine years, have I worn flat shoes to work. Even when I was nine months pregnant, I wore my four-inch high heels every day (that's my wedding-day, high-heeled, happy foot in the photo above). And now, because of one fall, I have to wear flat shoes to work? Every day this week I had to wear running shoes or flip-flops.
I'm only five-foot-four (and a bit) and though I'm not now, I've been overweight - almost 50 pounds heavier sometimes - so heels have played an important role in my life.
Heels make you taller. When you look taller, you look leaner. And pointy-toed shoes elongate your body. Stacy London I'm not, but I've learned the tricks to make clothing slimming.
Am I shallow and insecure because I've let my footwear dictate my mood my all week? I don't think so. Some women get their confidence from dolling themselves up with makeup; some women like to accessorize with purses; some women love jewelry. I'm head over heels for high heels.
Don't understand the power of a heel? Spend a day walking in my shoes and you'll see.
And here is the rest of it.