When I named this blog "My Feet Hurt!" I did it half jokingly. I was expecting my feet to be a tad sore from all that pavement pounding. I even expected a minor injury, perhaps from putting my foot down funny or slipping on some gravel, all of which I am told are the common perils of running. So when my first foot injury arose on Friday you'd think I'd have been celebrating. I would now be able to proudly show off my battle scars, proof of my dedication to my chosen exercise regime. Not so. I didn't hurt my foot out running. How, you ask, did I injure myself? A slip? A fall? No, no, no.
My shoe bit me.
Yes you read that right. Friday night I made my way to the tube station to go to my fiancé's work party, and my shoe bit me. My sensible, flat shoes that I had worn specifically with the aim of preventing foot injury. The sensible shoes I was planning on later swapping for the highly impractical 5 inch heels. My sensible shoes have a funny sense of irony that's all I'm going to say. In all honesty I had noticed a slight pinching sensation on my (5 minute) walk to the station, but I figured I must have just got something stuck in the shoe. Picture my shocked, disbelieving face when I pull the offending shoe off at the station to find my heel completely red with blood. Blood! My sensible shoes made my foot bleed! This is the type of injury I would expect had I decided to run a marathon in my aforementioned 5 inch heels! Or just taken part in an Army-style march across the Brecon Beacons. In the rain.
My lady readers might understand this sentiment more than my male ones, but you place your trust in your sensible shoes and mine betrayed me. Traitors.
Anyway, for those of you who like seeing this kind of thing, I have thoughtfully included a photo of my heel. It has healed over somewhat now and is no longer actively bleeding (yay) but still hurts to the point where conventional shoes (ie: anything that's not a welly or a flip flop) are agony to wear.
Oh, and for those of you (probably not) wondering what happened to my night out? Well I went to the work party anyway, in my pretty knee-length cocktail dress with my handsome dinner-suited-up fiancé. And what did I put on my feet?
Flip flops. I wore flip flops.
PS: special shout out to my fiancé who left work early to go on a mid-winter mission to find and buy me said flip flops.